As I sat sunning myself yesterday, my foot began throbbing.
It’s my own fault. My cardio form has been so bad, I imagine I look like some flaccid Gumby push puppet when I take to the treadmill. My tendency to fall into a woe-is-me wallow moment was curtailed when I realized no one was there to cry to. Even my dog was throwing shade at me from the shady spot in which she sat. Then I realized something.
(Well… not exactly. But close.)
I realized – as I gazed into the periwinkle abyss above with its descending rays embracing me and meeting the light breeze at an ideal halfway point, while dandelion bits danced down to my browning flesh like a summery snow… that I was being an asshole.
I mean, if you go too far out of our breathe-o-sphere, you implode from the cold. If you wander too near to the sun, you disintegrate. And if you went to Mars, you’d land yourself a pop-eye Sci-fi Schwartzenager facial. So, if the worst thing I’ve got going on is a few days off from running, I’m doing arrright.
(that’s two for two on the sardonic Jesus gifs today #DerisiveChristSunday)
That’s why I find stuff like this interactive cosmo-site nuts-osaurus rex. It’s just as simple as it is hypnotizing. You move from planet to planet and see how the universal layout looks on any given day at any given time.
But in multilayered inception-esque irony, do I write about this. How’s that? ’cause this same celestial internet siren that distracted me during my writing Odyssey today… now becomes fodder for this very article. The object of the site itself is to witness Earth’s passage through time – and I sat there for 49 years watching Earth and his planetary posse bob around in a black infinite vacuum before I realized there was that calendar thingy at the bottom. And that I was now a cougar. Or an old maid. Or dead after my tragic matcha tea overdose of 2040.
Whichever it is, only three real world minutes had passed.
Yet, I felt like Adam Sandler in “Click”. The irony is in that when massive time passes IRL, it only seems like three minutes – while the opposite happens in solar site world. The inception-irony is that I’ve spent so much time drooling while trolling the web in general, that it’s really not just simulated seconds. It’s been been more like – since the advent of every alter reality Disneyworld online – from Myspace Mountain to Zuckerland.
Unlike that whole narcissism spectacle, however, sites like these are just as awesome as they are parasitic to productivity. But as I missed the meteor shower last night (on account of a cloudy evening, light pollution, and my Moses Kenesis being too exhausted after a full day of tanning n’ stuff to raise my staff and will the clouds to part), I settled for this thing.
For example, here’s our crew channeling Bradley Cooper & Co:
Yep. That’s you, me, and the green-drink blender lady you ignored this morning while giving her the “Shaddup and take my money” face.
I can’t say why this shit makes my eyes well up with wonder. Maybe it’s just nuts to me that we live on a rock of Goldilocks conditions and can realize it enough to be overcome occasionally. Maybe it’s that momentary capacity it offers to see outside of our individual Lilliputian problems.
Or maybe I just, ya know…
Like to pretend I’m god by playing planetary ping pong.