Wednesday, 22 September 2010

Blindly Staring

I replace the cover over the 12 inch mirror of the reflecting telescope and return it to the darkness, but it continues to seek light. Continues to seek light.

"The beauty", I tell Her Indoors as I cover it up, "is that it continues to work as a telescope, even though there is nobody looking through it". Even though there is nobody looking through it.

In a way, this is true, but a part of me suspects that - like Schroedinger's Cat - it may, simultaneously, be both alive and dead, defined in reality only by the observer. Only by the observer.

I think this may be the same for all that we observe around us. The reality is constantly staring us blindly in the face. Blindly in the face.


  1. That's certainly true in my case. In my case.

  2. I heard you the first time. The first time.

  3. Is this a new form of Tourette's. Tourette's?