Male intelligence and the abyss of black holes |

Male intelligence and the abyss of black holes

Bob Sweigert
Grasshopper Soup

There was a strange noise outside while I was trying to organize my computer files. I knew I could master the Microsoft Works word processor software eventually. I started in 1993.

After all, I am a man. Men are the most intelligent creatures on the planet. When confronted with a problem, we hardly even have to think about it. We have answers for everything. Just listen to us.

At first it sounded like paper being crumpled. As my ears adjusted, keenly scanning my experienced memory for sound association, I finally recognized the familiar clickitty-clack of someone tap dancing on my porch.

Isn’t it amazing how perceptive the male mind is? It can piece together random impulses, connect them all in a perfectly logical fashion and figure out, in milliseconds, what those impulses are just by comparing them to the other noises in our head. We reach brilliant conclusions on a regular basis this way, though we certainly don’t have a monopoly on jumping to conclusions. We can jump further than girls though.

I knew I had to be open to the possibility that the clickitty-clack I was hearing outside my door was my mind short-circuiting. Maintaining an air of humility is always a good idea when faced with the daily burden of having to actually figure things out alone. Relying on superior male intelligence is just too easy at times. It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m still waiting for the universe to throw me a fast one.

I must be as smart as I think I am, and, oblivious to the possibility of being wrong, I looked out the window but ” for crying out loud ” there was no tap dancer. I couldn’t believe it. I know tap dancing so well, too. No matter that I had never heard anyone tap dancing on my porch before.

Instead, I saw little shiny things flying through the air. They were raindrops. They started off slowly at first, with a groovy jazz beat. What a strange and wonderful sound. Errant sunlight lit up each raindrop like a diamond. Now they were coming down like good old Rock and Roll.

With all its problems, I’m happy to see we still live in a world of such wonder and beauty. One of the beverages we can’t live without just falls out of the sky. Food grows on trees, grazes on the grass, swims in the water and flies through the air too, which is a good thing for us men who hate grocery shopping and can shoot straight. The rest become vegetarians, which is an old Indian word for “bad hunter.”

After realizing it was rain making the noise, I understood how Einstein felt when he figured out that E = mc2. Except Einstein was wrong.

Energy doesn’t equal mass times the speed of light squared. It equals sleep times the speed of a man’s brain stopped. That’s why there’s so much energy in the universe. Men have to keep their brains stopped just to stay smart.

A lot of brain mass can mean less brains, no matter how much sleep you get.

It’s all relative. And that goes for aunts and sisters and grandmas too, not just men.

One thing’s for sure. A fat relative sleeping at the speed of light is more likely to forget his car keys and be late for work. A skinny relative sleeping at the same rate is more likely to disappear into the sheets and bedspreads forever, as if he fell through the black hole at the center of our Milky Way galaxy. I do that a lot during the off-season. But, because I am a man, I have figured out how to disappear through a black hole and still return. I didn’t even have to stop to ask for directions.

No matter what your body mass is, when you wake up the speed of light is still 186,300 miles per second, so you better hang on when you get out of bed, stand up, use the bathroom and go to work, or you will start hearing ballet dancers on your porch. Wrong again, that would be snow, man.

Bob Sweigert is a Sierra Sun columnist, published poet, experienced ski instructor and commercial driver. He’s lived at Lake Tahoe for 25 years.

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