My eyes! What happened to my eyes!

5 Conversations

by Michael Bywater, h2g2 Staff Voyeur

Every night for millennia, people all over the planet have fretted about darkness. Except for really stupid people, who don't notice that anything has changed, the regular workings of what we now know as 'The Solar System' have been a constant source of worry. Neurotic people worry that their eyes have packed up. Suggestible people worry about ghosts. Single people worry that everyone else is getting laid. Married people worry that, given the way things are going, they may never ever get laid again. Greedy people worry that other greedy people are stealing their money, somewhere in the world where it's still light. Reactionary people worry about people who believe that somewhere in the world it's still light, since it obviously can't be on account of the world is flat. Morally degenerate people worry that it will be light again soon, then everyone will see how old and raddled they really are. Morally upright people worry about falling asleep and having unwholesome dreams. Nervous people worry about death. Undead people worry about dawn. Clever people worry about the superstring model of the Universe. Very clever people worry about proving that the superstring theory of the Universe is b******s. Really really clever people worry about what to wear. And nerds worry that it's 4:03 a.m. and even though Internet congestion should have died down now they're still only getting 30% maximum throughput which either suggests problems on the backbone or some inexplicable degradation in their own machine which will in turn mean ordering in a pizza (American Hot with extra everything) and taking the back of the computer and poking around until they black out and wake up just before lunchtime with their head on the motherboard and a DRAM chip lodged in their ear.

As usual, we are here to solve your problem. Night is nothing to worry about. The mechanism is simple, once you understand that there are two competing theories:

  1. Night is caused by the orbit of the Earth about its own axis, in accordance with Newtonian physics (and subsequent elaborations thereon), which is obviously a lie, or...

  2. Night is caused by the Devil releasing tiny globes of blackness ('darkons') into the atmosphere which burst, releasing a phlogiston-like fluid ('darkiston') which forms a veil over our eyes, rendering us unable to see. The reason the nights are shorter in the summer is that it's hotter then, so the darkiston evaporates faster and then we can see again.

See? Now you can settle down to enjoy the main benefit of night, which is that it enables you to see into other people's houses. Why, from where I am now sitting, I can look directly (with the aid of a pair of £1,075 image-stabilising 20x80 binoculars, into a room opposite where, swinging gently from the chandelier, three warm, golden and totally naked[THIS IS A FAMILY-ORIENTED SITE, YOU SLEAZEBAG, SO WATCH IT! - Ed.] [I am watching it, you fool. That's what this is all about. - MB] lightbulbs cast a soft glow over the intimate scene within. A man in his shirtsleeves is sitting there, clutching a fried-egg sandwich in one hand and scratching his gut with the other. He is staring desultorily at the television, his face a mask of boredom. I have watched him often. He Does It Himself. (The television, for example, is suspended from a complicated sling-and-pulley arrangement that he Did Himself, and could clearly crash to the ground at any minute.) Now an aircraft roars overhead, inbound for London Heathrow. The man crosses to his window and peers up at the sky, then remains there, oblivious to the rain, sunk, presumably, in a reverie of his next year's holiday. He catches sight of me, shakes his fist, grimaces and pulls his head back in, like a tortoise.

Did you enjoy that little tableau? Quite so. That's what night is for. Next week: The Two Swedish Girls In The Flat Below Who Are Bored Without A Man So They Go Into The Bedroom And [I WARNED YOU. -Ed.] Get Dressed Up And Go Clubbing Somewhere.

Meanwhile, the thought of television, DIY, aircraft and holidays all lead me inevitably to reflect on the life of Faraday. Join me if you wish.


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Infinite Improbability Drive

Infinite Improbability Drive

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