As regular readers may have noticed, it’s been a little while since my last post. The reason for this is simple – I have absolutely nothing to write about.
Even now this remains the case, making this post an experimental attempt to be both entertaining and informative, whilst simultaneously saying almost nothing at all. By reading, you are implicitly offering yourself up as a participant in this experiment – please ram the electrodes forcibly into your head when the red light flashes.
Are you sitting comfortably? No? Well of course you’re not – I’ve strapped you down and inserted an unnecessarily bulbous probe into your startled rectum. All in the name of science. In any case, we’ll begin with the informative section.
As you may be aware, NASA’s Kepler telescope project has recently announced the discovery of 54 Earth-like planets, far beyond the reaches of our solar system. This is incredibly exciting, and a great achievement, but it will be some time yet before they are able to establish whether any of these planets support life, let alone sentient species with the power of language.
This means that, of the 55 Earth-like planets now known to science (including Earth, which is about as Earth-like as you can get), the total known to have developed a word for the strange taste of a stainless-steel spoon currently stands at zero. I find this incredibly disappointing.
After all, scientists have finally conceded that noodles and pasties have a taste that is neither sweet, sour, bitter nor salt, and declared that this flavour shall henceforth be known as ‘umami’. I defy you to go to the kitchen, lick your cutlery with every inch of your tongue, and tell me that a word exists which accurately describes the flavour you’re experiencing. Only an advanced, sentient species, with millennia of spoon-licking under their belts, can help us now. NASA’s search continues.
Right, that’s it - I think I’ve provided quite enough value for money for one post. The entertaining bit is cancelled. Please remove the soiled scientific apparatus from your tender orifices, and form an orderly queue for the complimentary lollipops.
Are you an alien from a distant world? Do you lick spoons? What about a fish-slice? No? In that case, I won’t bother suggesting that you leave a comment below. And you certainly won’t be interested in e-mailing pithytitle@live.co.uk
