The world died pretty.
Walking home tonight the sky was scraps of visible mass of liquid droplets or frozen crystals made of water or various chemicals suspended in the atmosphere above the surface of a planetary body (:wikipedia).
The sky was clouds. It was beautiful.
Scraps of white, high up, heading inland before a storm.
As a schoolboy I used to know my clouds. Cumulus and nimbus. It was about the only science I knew.
I’ve forgotten all that now but that’s no matter because so has the world. Science matters no more.
Now we’ve got Rupert and Bolt and swivel eyed lunatics to sniff the air and tell us what’s going on. They know, apparently. Who would have guessed the world was streaming towards this light?
Or is it a black hole?
It’s all over now, baby blue.
Just as well we’re defunding CSIRO. Difficult times. Etc. Doing it tough. Etc. No time for science or the future. Etc. Profits holding up. Etc.
Sydney is towards the end of yet another record month of warm, dry weather. It is glorious. We’ll all die with a tan.
On the bright side, I found a hat. It was on the path as we walked home. It has a 3S label on it which I’m prepared to guess is fashionable but I will not risk Googling it in case it is a Bangladesh sweat shop. It probably is, even though the owner paid big for it in Newtown.
Wallington thinks this is stealing – picking things up from the ground. Found objects. One minute they have meaning and value and then they are dropped by accident and become rags. Scraps. Clouds on earth.
There are clouds on the internet now. You can store stuff in them for when the planet gives way. As a gesture to the quaint art of science I think we should give an -us name to these clouds as well. Benedictus? Write in and suggest.
Profits holding up. Etc.