FANCY a headache? Well, try and get your brain around this bit of news.
Scientists, it was reported this week, have managed to separate an object from its speed and observed both, at the same time, but in different places!
They have produced evidence that shows a neutron can be observed in one place, while its movement is in another. They’re calling it the Quantum Cheshire Cat theory.
I’ve tried to read the research paper … it should come with a large whisky.
This mind-numbing discovery raises serious questions about the role of science in our lives.
The main questions being: Have scientists not got anything else better to do? … and why the obsession with cats?
The findings would probably have made a bigger story in our media outlets, but Kim Kardashian in a bikini taking a selfie of her backside knocked it off the news schedules.
The Quantum Cheshire Cat theory has come around too soon for me. But I can empathise with it.
Something similar can be observed when I play football on a Sunday night.
Richard Ord, the object, has been separated from the speed he once possessed 20 years ago.
Where I differ from the theory is that while I can be seen lumbering around the five-a-side court in one place, my speed cannot, as yet, be observed in another. I’ll leave that with the scientists.
To be honest, I’m still reeling from the research that revealed men become invisible to younger women when they reach the age of 39.
After their 39th birthday, according to research published earlier this month, men are no longer viewed as sexually attractive, more like friendly uncles or father figures.
Being of ginger hair and sporting goofy teeth and a big nose, I was ahead of the curve on that one.
I became invisible to young women at about aged 22.
Not only am I now invisible to women, but I’m also invisible to my children. It’s part and parcel of being a dad.
Unless our two boys need money or a lift somewhere, they don’t see me. You may have experienced the same.
All questions our children have are directed at my wife.
A typical conversation held in our kitchen will go like this.
Isaac, aged 10: “Can I go out and play with my friends?”
Me: “No, I need you to clean up your dishes.”
Isaac (louder): “Mam, can I go out and play with my friends?”
Wife (from upstairs): “Yes.”
Me: “Erm, no, you’ll clean up your dishes.”
Isaac (heading our the door): “Thanks. Byeee.” (door closes).
Like I say, invisible.
The Quantum Cheshire Cat theory, while giving me a headache, would pose no problems for our boys.
They accept the seemingly impossible without thinking, or questioning.
Take their bedrooms. They leave everything lying about during the day. When they awake, the room is immaculate. They accept this without question.
Dirty shirts are dropped on the bedroom floor, only to magically reappear clean and pressed on a hanger in their wardrobe several days later.
It’s their Quantum Cheshire Cat theory. It doesn’t make sense, but, hey, clean shirts!
I believe the theory has close links to the current Dark Matter school of thought amongst physicists.
In fact, while invisibly cleaning up our children’s rooms I came across Dark Matter down the side of our Isaac’s bed.
It’s not a Dark Matter discovery which will excite today’s astrophysicists. We will, however, stop Isaac from eating bananas in bed in the future.