a moth
a moth
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- winter
'Tis the beggining of summer.
An undetermined moth hawks betwixt my tin-moulded lamp (with a silent atomic weight of 118,7) and flies forward my monitor, which weights the same as light, and back again. It flies clumsily. Most people say that's a poor bird.
We do not know if light has mass or not. If it has none we could travel in time.
But the trouble is that what we see and measure can be a misconception of dark matter (the stuff we're made of), and presently we cannot know much beyond this.
That's why the moth flounders.
Wouldn't you?