I don’t know why I got up this morning thinking about Carl Sagan. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I went to bed last night thinking about the meaning of life.
If you’ve not heard of Carl Sagan (or not read something he wrote, which is a real sin in my books), you’re either quite young or not scientifically inclined, or both. I’d hate to think that you haven’t heard of or about him, because you’re disinterested. Besides being one of my favorite authors, Carl Sagan was one of the greatest scientists that ever lived; but was probably more famous for his hit television series, Cosmos. Ah! Some of you, do now remember.
Anyway, back to this morning: I was thinking what a damn shame it is that Carl is no longer around; what with all the fantastic experiments being undertaken in the Large Hadron Collider (LHC) at CERN. I’m sure Carl inspired many (if not all) of the physicists working on the LHC project, and he would surely have been the happiest man alive if he could have been a part of that group of scientists, trying to decipher the secrets of the universe.
I can only imagine how he would have described the CERN experiments and the findings in that inimitable literary style, that has inspired so many people around the world. If you have read any of Carl’s books, you would know what I’m talking about; that ability to induce a feeling of absolute wonderment about the natural world in a reader, is something special. What a find; a scientist who could explain science to the layperson, in such simple and awe-inspiring terms.
And… oh yeah! About the meaning of life? There is none. Life has no meaning other than that, which you create for yourself…