They tried but couldn’t affect the laws of universe to do anything catastrophic … but they keep firing the thing without really knowing what will happen until it happens.
It’s like a bunch of kids with access to firecrackers and thousands of pounds of TNT.
That is so meh… The entire thing started with some scientist made the mistake of not using dumb normal people terms when speaking with a journalist and instead used scientific terms. So there’s a theretical possibility it may destroy the earth. There is also a theretical possibility that the atoms of a pencil may randomly align with the atoms of the table it’s resting on and fall through it to the floor below.
It will never happen of course but there is a theoretical chance it will happen just as there is a theoretical chance the the collider will destroy the earth.
That second one happens all the time to me, though. I’ve stopped counting the things that have presumably phased through the floor. Most infuriating, only one out of a pair of knitting needles I have scoured that entire room for four times. It’s gone. Finito. It’s shaken off this mortal coil and returned to Sarah Hauschka.
They tried but couldn’t affect the laws of universe to do anything catastrophic … but they keep firing the thing without really knowing what will happen until it happens.
It’s like a bunch of kids with access to firecrackers and thousands of pounds of TNT.
Maybe nothing will happen … maybe something will.
That is so meh… The entire thing started with some scientist made the mistake of not using dumb normal people terms when speaking with a journalist and instead used scientific terms. So there’s a theretical possibility it may destroy the earth. There is also a theretical possibility that the atoms of a pencil may randomly align with the atoms of the table it’s resting on and fall through it to the floor below.
It will never happen of course but there is a theoretical chance it will happen just as there is a theoretical chance the the collider will destroy the earth.
That second one happens all the time to me, though. I’ve stopped counting the things that have presumably phased through the floor. Most infuriating, only one out of a pair of knitting needles I have scoured that entire room for four times. It’s gone. Finito. It’s shaken off this mortal coil and returned to Sarah Hauschka.