Researchers discover brief existence of Marnegie Cellon
Scientists have been studying unusual patterns of molecules in space for decades now, which tend to be artifacts of well-known universal phenomena, like supernovas.
However, one of the latest studies of these molecular “fingerprints” has yielded a result far more surprising than anyone could have ever imagined: A specific arrangement of particles that must have been an exact replica of Carnegie Mellon floating free in space some couple million years ago.
If that seems impossible, you’re not alone. Dr. Fizicks Nuerhd was startled, too, but explains that while incredibly unlikely, it is fully possible for random atoms floating around to spontaneously arrange themselves into any format, even that of a small Pittsburgh trade school.
“Atoms don’t normally create universities out of nowhere because of this thing we like to call the Second Law of Thermodynamics,” says Nuerhd. “However, this law is purely statistical. The only reason it holds up is because it’s really, really unlikely for atoms to spontaneously form into universities, not impossible.”
However, what makes the discovery of this Carnegie Mellon replica especially strange is that it appears exactly the same except for being named Marnegie Cellon everywhere.
“It’s hard to wrap your head around, I know,” says another scientist, grad student Gnough Itaul. “But what you have to understand is that Marnegie Cellon would have only existed for a brief instant, before immediately falling apart.”
The grad student then proceeds to eagerly explain that this discovery is proof of the Boltzmann Brain theory that asserts that it is perfectly possible for a brain to be spontaneously formed with all the memories of human existence, perceiving reality as we are perceiving it right now, and then immediately disintegrate into nothingness.
“I mean, think about it,” Itaul implores.
“How do you know that anything is real? Given a universe that exists for infinite time, it’s perfectly possible, and the mathematics seems to point to a higher ratio of Boltzmann brains being created than regular brains, either way.”
This begs the question: How do you know that anything is real?
Well, after interviewing several more scientists, who all have looked at me quite uncomfortably, it seems that no one really knows. The best physicists can do right now is hope that further research will disprove this theory.
“Mmh, I dunno,” says Professor Staurtreich Geich, shrugging his shoulders. “Perhaps reality is an illusion and everything is meaningless, but that doesn’t mean I get to avoid my wife wanting that divorce.” Geich isn’t the only one becoming increasingly apathetic when faced with this possibility, as my boss didn’t seem to care enough to edit my article at all after reading its contents once. Instead, he looked me dead in the eye and said, “Guess I don’t need to worry about dying anymore.”
“It’s only a theory,” my office colleague Sheryl argued. “I mean, I guess, so is everything we believe now. But—” She sputtered. “I don’t…I don’t know.” She then proceeded to burst into tears and call in sick the next day.
I’m thinking about doing the same. In fact, I don’t really know why I’m still writing this. Why write if I’m only delivering bad news to the public, confirming that they might live in a “Matrix” they cannot break free from? Truly, why do anything at all, if you cannot be sure you’re doing it? If all of reality is fake, perhaps the most we can do is accept it, and welcome our approaching deaths with open arms. Maybe in the next instant, it will all be gone anyways—life reduced to nothing more than a statistical fluke.
Just like Marnegie Cellon.