Theoretica

In the twilight of unemployment, man wonders.  Perhaps as an escape from the quandary of his usefulness, he observes things like never before.  The absence of structure is a chasm beneath his feet and he dangles from the world by a single unraveling cord.  The puppeteer’s strings - once firmly stapled to every joint - now trail from his limbs into space, over the abyss of government subsidy and friendly charity.  He considers turning that lifeline into a noose.

There are few distractions in this space, and few resources.

And then one day, as if by accident or divine intervention, he begins to wonder.  The longer he hangs, the more he wonders.  The more he wonders, the better he gets at wondering.  And the better he gets at wondering, the more he begins to wonder whether the world, in fact of matter, is really the densely-packed sureness he once assumed it was.  And the earth to which he had so desperately clung, begins to look more and more like a balloon - a big blue balloon - tied to his wrist while he walks through a thorny thicket of space.

There are endless distractions in this space, and endless resources. And THIS is Theoretica.  An earnest perspective on things both tired and unheard of.  The obligation and occupation of the unemployed.  The contribution of the bored and smugly depressed.  Wondering with abandon.  Wondering because no-one is listening.  Writing the laws that govern the physical world of crazy.