/sci/ - Science & Math

so whats the chance, that between the last 14 billion and the next 100 billion years, somewhere in the universe, there is a star that is not just smiliar to ours, but an exact replica, also the 8 planets happen to be exactly like ours. simply everything would be identical to our solar system.

wouldnt it be logical, that the evolution of life on the 3rd planet of this solar system would be exactly like it was on our earth, and thus a human civilization would be created? and wouldnt this civilization take the exact same course as we did, as they live in the exact same world and have the exact same biology?

why do we concentrate our next apollo prrogram on the mars, although venus is much closer to our planet?

>>3017504

Don't worry Inurdaes.

<span class="math">{\em We have time.}[/spoiler]

I'm a dreamer. It's hard to put these thoughts into words - I feel like I must be the only person in the world to feel this way; to sit, alone in the cold as the sun comes up, to marvel with tears brimming in my eyes at the sheer vastness of the universe, this reality we are a part of.

So often I sit in my room dreaming of all that has been and all that will come to be, the possibilities of the future, of interstellar travel and galaxies and planets and ideas so alien as to be a reality unto itself; to sit whilst beautiful music alivens my senses (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg59V6Q2afc)) in a state of pure melodic trance. Then without notice, to sometimes fall into a melancholic decline, leaving me brooding and cynical for days, megalomaniacal thoughts of grandiosity and my own intellectual supremacy shifting in the sands of my mind's eye, staring dumbly at the precipice of suicide, only to then return twice in positivity and courage and ambition than before; you can only hold your breath for so long, no matter how lustfully enlivening it is.

I marvel at art, yet disdain its uselessness.
I empathise and feel love for people, yet am sick at their weakness and stupidity.
I am sure of my own superiority, yet am the eternal barrier to my dreams.

Am I the only one who feels this way?

I have given this some thought. You could focus on what things might be in the future, but you could also think of what we knew in the past. What wonderful things we have seen/know now that the great minds could have only dreamed of back then!

He sat up abruptly. A little too abruptly; he slammed the top of his head against the bunk above him. He cursed beneath his breath, rubbed his skull–a small bump beneath his hair, nothing more–then he swung his legs over the side of his bunk, stood up, and opened his locker. His box was where he had last seen it; he took it down from the shelf, started to open it. . . .

And then he stopped himself. No. If he looked inside now, the things he’d left in there would make him only more miserable than he already was. His fingers trembled upon the lid. He didn’t need this now. He shoved the box back into the locker and slammed the door shut behind it. Then, having nothing else better to do, he decided to take a walk.

The ring corridor led him around the hub to Module C7, where he climbed down to the mess deck: long empty benches, walls painted in muted earth tones. The deck below contained the galley: chrome tables, cooking surfaces, empty warm refrigerators. He located the coffee maker, but there was no coffee to be found, so he ventured further down the ladder to the ship’s med deck. Antiseptic white-on-white compartments, the examination beds covered with plastic sheets; cabinets contained cellophane-wrapped surgical instruments, gauze and bandages, and rows of plastic bottles containing pharmaceuticals with arcane labels. He had a slight headache, so he searched through them until he found some ibuprofen; he took the pill without water and lay down for a few minutes.

>>1257543
>425x307

Smalltime.