Happy New Year
Imagine a large group of particles floating through the void, minding their own business (or not), when suddenly – BAM! – a bunch of particles decide to get together and form... YOU. And not just any version of you, but a perfect replica of you, complete with memories of humanity having existed in this universe for eons. According to Andreas' favorite physicist, Ludwig Boltzmann, this very scenario — a spontaneous eruption into being — is more probable than the notion that complex processes of cosmological evolution are the driving forces behind life and everything we call reality.
Effects and their causes have perplexed philosophers and physicists for millennia. They have also perplexed Andreas, whose brain seems hellbent on reliving the most absurd moments of bicycle-induced misfortune.
Picture this, a perfectly orchestrated cosmic joke: nearly one year after Andreas' first spectacular crash, he lost control of his two-wheeled velocitor, transforming his face into an abstract sculpture of fractured bones and wounded pride1, and stripping his consciousness of the reliable metronome of time. The recursive insistence of unanticipated events punctuated Ritu’s year no less. She entered the year serving under one president, only to find, two days later, another at the helm, first for an interim period of unknown duration and then, thankfully, for the duration itself (or three years, whichever comes first). The interregnum was full of unrest; it seems, in retrospect, a test.
As a consequence, our social life shifted into a state that can only generously be referred to as… rare. If we were museum artifacts, we would be classified as “critically endangered connections.” This year, we were living proof that friendship can exist in theoretical quantum states — present yet completely unobservable.
The problem is not reality, but the folly of our faith in continuity. We expect each moment to follow continuously from the last, a clear chain of events tying the present to the past. But when we look back over the events of the year, only the absurd — that is to say, the discontinuous — appears.
Take, for example, the six-hour storm in Nahant in April which resulted in six months of repairs. One is never quite prepared for waves pouring in through the chimney.
Then there’s New York. In a futile attempt to wait out traffic, we ended up buying an apartment instead. The story is simpler than it has any right to be. We walked into a building next door to Ritu’s home of 25 years on the Upper West Side, ostensibly to pass some time. We made an offer that night. Thus far, no regrets.
If the absurd creates room for the new, Andreas and a group of old and new business partners and friends are taking full advantage. They have engineered a new kind of complex adaptive system: one that crafts cocktails. This mechanical marvel is Andreas’ new favorite Boltzmann brain. It pours classics like Old Fashioneds with precision and flair; it accounts for shifts in the zeitgeist with creations like the Quantum Sour (incorporating a hint of citrus and a dash of whimsy); and it keeps all atoms in their place, maintaining the right temperature regardless of the mix. Ritu nevertheless remains waiting for the hottest new drink: Time to Spare, on the rocks.
As the year 2025 is upon us, the contraption will emerge from its workshop to delight patrons in bars and possibly even at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe2. But beware, for in Boltzmann’s world, even the most seemingly perfect creations can harbor hidden flaws. Will the appliance live up to its promise? Only time — or rather, the infinite permutations of probability — will tell.
We wish you the best in the new year. And rest assured, we have no idea what that means.
2 Hitchhiker fans will recall the Nutrimatic Drinks Dispenser. It is a Sirius Cybernetics Corporation product designed to determine what drink someone wants through taste bud patterns and neurological signals. It is well known for producing a liquid which is almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea.
