If you write in a journal infrequently, either online or on paper, you will often find yourself writing about why you don’t write. In fact, if you write rarely enough, every entry will have to start that way, and before long you have a lengthy journal that’s concerned entirely with why it hasn’t been written. I won’t do this.
Instead, I’d like to talk about wormhole singularities. I’d like to, but I won’t do that either, because I don’t know anything about the subject. To be honest, I get into serious trouble when the conversation enters the realm of relativity and multiple universes. I’m sorry to disappoint my readers — I know how many find this site by searching for “Schwartzchild wormhole”. That and “jolene blalock nakid”.
I won’t dwell on this disappointment, however. I’ll go right on typing until I settle on a completely different topic — like coffee, for example. Why does a cup of ordinary, black coffee cost two dollars? Back in my college days, the cafeteria offered cups of coffee for 30 cents. Sure, it was acrid brew that sat on a warming element for several hours, but it was affordable acrid brew, and there is no reason, in my mind, that a cup of coffee should cost more than a few dimes. After all, when an entire pound of coffee beans at the grocery store costs only a little more than the cost of a single cup at Starbucks or Blenz, one has to wonder if maybe there’s a small chance that the coffee bars just might be overcharging a little bit.
Admittedly, I don’t fully grasp the intricacies of brewing coffee in the professional manner. Of the items of exotic tools and machinery behind the counter at the local coffee bar, most baffle and frighten me. I appreciate and admire the skill and workmanship that lends itself to these young coffee artisans in the preparation of my daily brew. Their deft hands, their artist’s hands, fairly dance on the various buttons, knobs, levers, and lumps of soggy things, captivating onlookers in their aura of coffee zen.
So, on the subject of coffee or singularities, I’ll have to acknowledge my ignorance and simply accept that there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my coffee. A cup of coffee from Starbucks is worth over six and a half times more than a similar coffee at my old college, two universes are connected by a wormhole at the horizons of a black hole and a white hole, and I don’t write very often because my blog entries usually turn out to make no sense whatsoever.