My Cat, the Physicist. Who Knew?

When I was fourteen I didn't know anything about alternate universes or time travel. I didn't know anything about the frozen cities under the pole and I had never been to the acrid wastelands where the shifting sands move space and where the wind blows thoughts from a thousand years ago into your mind to confuse and bewilder you. I didn't realize that most of the people I talked to had been dead for years and that no one else could hear animals when they spoke. Ah, the innocence of youth. As the years went on I began to take all of these things, and more, for granted and lived a blissful existence somewhere on the edge of sanity, but still hoping I could reconcile this mess of a world and boil it down to one defining thought. So much for the broken dreams of children.

The one thing that adults never bother to tell children is that try as you might the world will never make sense. Call me a loony but I labored for years under the impression that I just wasn't working hard enough to reconcile religion with science, politics, human resourcefulness and human depravity. Don't get me wrong, it's been fun trying to weave together the strands into something useful, like a picnic basket or a sun hat, but sadly all I've got is about fifty yards of very pretty matting, sort of like a floor covering that stretches in all directions and dimensions at once. If you happen to live in a multi dimensional house with portals about two foot by three foot have I got the flooring you need to keep your toes warm.

Recent events have forced me to concede that my brain just isn't big enough or subtle enough to sort through all the crap. And while I've got a varied assortment of pretenders all whispering in my ear at the same time, each has his own version of what the world is all about, so it's no good listening to them, especially the damned cat. Right now he's trying to chew his own foot off so what kind of credence can I give to his theories about ribbons of consciousness that ripple across space/time assembling and disassembling reality as they go. He might be a good physicist but some of his theories are just too far gone to be useful to me.

My New Year's Resolution, then, is to cease and desist. I'll be here whether or not I come up with a good reason for it, so I might just as well get comfortable and enjoy the ride. Speaking of rides, did I ever tell you about the time I rode a toboggan down into an ice cave? It took me three days to pull the stupid thing back up the hill and when I got home my mother was under the strange impression that I'd been dead for years. Or about the time that I lost my shoes in dice game with myself? I had to go buy a new pair because I wouldn't give them back. Good times. So that's it then. I'm going to stop trying to figure out why the world is the way it is and just go with the flow. I think that's a pretty good New Year's Resolution.