Everything is Everywhere

Here, there and quite probably down the back of the sofa, or – if you are not careful – somewhere in the midst of Hartlepool. That is the trouble with stuff – it is all over the place. Although, if scientists are to be believed, and on the whole we should believe them, after all wishful thinking hasn’t got a patch on verifiable evidence – then there is stuff throughout the universe (and Wales).

Still, on the whole, it is probably better to be in a universe of stuff, because after all we are stuff too and if there was no stuff there would be no us. Admittedly, that would solve some of Earth’s more pressing parking problems and reduce the queues at nearly all the supermarket checkouts in the known universe, but it does – on the whole – seem rather a steep price to pay, even if it does make the place a lot tidier.

Of course, on the upside, it would solve humankind’s most pressing problem of finding a cure for religion and politics, but it would seem to entail a severe curtailment of existence. Which is always a bit of a bugger, especially if you spend those last few minutes of existence embroiled in some mundanity of existence like putting the bins out, rather than pondering the eternal verities, or doing something very rude indeed with a bevy of naughty acquaintances of your preferred sexual orientation and compatible level of erotic imaginings.