I’ve been watching more of The Universe on The History Channel. The show is baffling. And not because it talks about worm holes and quasars, but because it seems intent on scaring the hell out of me. They have any number of great interviews from scientists and professors from all over, and every one of them is smiling and happy and excited to be talking about what they love. One guy can’t stop grinning about possibly sending a probe to crack the ice on Io, another gets wide-eyed explaining how the first planet outside of our solar system was detected, and a third chuckles describing the intense heat and radiation on the surface of the planet Mercury. And it’s all good until the narrator starts talking. Then it always takes a strange turn because all the narrator does is paint horrible pictures in a low booming doomsday voice explaining how whatever the happy scientist just said could possibly spell total destruction for all of us. It’s very odd.
Anyway, this is to say that I think The Universe is going to influence my next story. I made this threat awhile ago while I was writing “Black Eyed Susan,” and it didn’t really pan out…but this time I mean it.
On the other hand, I realized this morning that over the past three stories I’ve gone from a burnt out genius in Jacob, to an evil genius in Mr. Skullcrusher, to possibly the greatest genius ever in Isaac Newton. I’m sick of geniuses. This next story is going to be about a moron. And worm holes. Somehow.