Pure Randomness about Cats and Quantum Universes.

Let us assume that the concept of quantum universes holds; i.e., that there are an infinite number of universes where a new universe forks into existence every time we make a decision. (That's my 21 word description. Put as much or as little stock into it as you deem.)

This means there are a multitude of quantum versions of ourselves interacting with each other in this multiverse, no two versions quite exactly alike (cf. Fringe for the best-known current fictional example. Or Spock with the goatee).

I am starting to be convinced that these multiverses must have common fixed points that anchor them to one another. And those anchor points would, of course, be cats. It would explain why my cat is constantly staring at me; she's either studying different quantum versions of me as some sort of quantum physics comparative study project, or, more likely, she is simply just trying to figure out which universe she has slipped into this time. (Now, my cat's name is Schrödinger, so it may just be her special skill to bring forth multiple quantum versions of me.)

That would explain why cats can disappear in seemingly closed quarters. They are not hiding; they have simply phased to another universe. It would also demystify the old adage that cats have nine lives. They do not actually have multiple lives; they simply skip to a different universe to avoid deathly danger.

The human Schrödinger may well have been on to something...


Sent wirelessly from my BlackBerry device on the Bell network.
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