Please, by all means, click  image.
 Okay, here's The Light Cone deal, I  shall try to make it as simple as possible. 
 Well, actually, if I explain  everything about the Light Cone which my tiny miserable undisciplined brain  understands ... that will be pretty simple.
 1. The speed of electromagnetic  radiation -- most of the time we just call it the speed of light, but  light is just a small part of the electromagnetic spectrum -- in a  vacuum is a fundamental fixed, unvarying constant of  nature.
 2. The only way we Know anything  about the Universe is through receiving signals, quantities of perceivable information -- light signals,  radio signals, sound waves -- and either seeing them, feeling them  (infrared warmth on our skin), or recording them on machines sensitive  to those parts of the EM spectrum.
 3. So it follows that Everything We  Know About the Universe is just all the received Light we get from the  Universe.
 A consequence of (1) is that, from  HereNow (the point in Spacetime where we are right now), we can see  plenty, but only within the boundaries of a certain Shape.  
 We can't see or know anything  outside the boundaries of that Shape, because it would have been  (mathematically, the math of the known laws of physics) impossible for Light to  have come from outside the Shape and be seen by us in the HereNow,  within the Time it takes for Light to travel through  Space.
 This Shape -- there's probably a  much better technical word for "Shape" -- turns out to be The Light  Cone.
 The Light Cone defines all the Space  we can possibly perceive, and it also defines all the Time we can  possibly perceive or experience.
 There may be Stuff going on outside  the Light Cone, and it could be amazing Stuff, Stuff better than  Sliced Bread or Chuck Berry -- but we just can't ever Know it. It truly is  The Beyond.
You can't get there from here.
 You can't get there from here.
Einstein and the mathematician  Minkowski worked out The Shape from simple but inevitable consequences  of (1). It's the two ice cream cones, one of them Up, the other  Down, connected at their Points. The only difference between an ice-cream  cone and the Light Cone is that the fat part of both cones goes on  Forever; the boundary of the knowable Universe goes out from the  HereNow infinitely.
 Got all that? Alles ist  klar?
 Incidentally, the Angle of the Light  Cone -- the slope at which it expands outward from The Point -- is  warm, familiar, simple 45 degrees. Euclid would call it a Bisector of a  Right Angle. Or, if you prefer, pi/4 = 
 0.78539816339745+
radians.
 
 0.78539816339745+radians.
(I don't know anybody who really  would prefer radian measure, but I'm sure there are 40 or 50 geeks out  there who like it better. I know people who, in a world of Billie  Holiday and Enrico Caruso, go apeshit about Michael Jackson.)
 So there it is: The Universe. Or at  least the parts of it you'll ever see. There may be more, but it's Off  Limits, like the other gender's public bathroom, or some of the  Nixon Oval Office audio tapes for a few more years.
 So what does all this  mean?
 It means: 
 Happy New Year
from Planet Vleeptron!!!
 from Planet Vleeptron!!!
Agence-Vleeptron Presse's Art  Director, Philippe de Montebello, wanted to make a Vleeptron Happy New Year  Faux Postage Stamp, but he imposed a strange restriction on his design: It must  be 100% free and absent of All
 Visual Cliches associated with the  New Year: the diapered baby crawling in, the ancient bearded man  stumbling out, all that Hallmark crap. 
 Philippe said Non.
 He pulled his hair, he sweated  blood, he flagellated himself, and finally experienced the required Gestalt: The  Einstein-Minkowski Light Cone.
 And you can only get a Cliche-Free  Einstein-Minkowsky Light Cone Happy New Year Faux Postage Stamp from  Vleeptron. Nowhere else. Accept No Substitutes.
 Leave A Comment. The Spirit of The  Special Moment, when Earth's arbitrary odometer flips over to an  arbitary Multiple-Zero moment -- what does the New Year mean to  you?
 You into Prophesy? Tell Vleeptron  what kind of red-hot flinging plague-infested poop you think is coming our way in the  next twelvemonth.
 Or Antisy? (I think I just made that  word up.) Looking Backward. Tell Vleeptron Your Thoughts about 2009. 
This can be like one of those Internet Diaries, or Confessionals. Tell Vleeptron what you REALLY feel about the year just finishing, and tell Vleeptron how you REALLY feel about the next 365 days, which are, for the most part, Tohu v'Vohu -- Void and Without Form. Could go either way. We could all receive a $9400 check in the mail from a government agency we never heard of. Or sharks could eat us. Do you live anywhere near a big volcano? Who told you it was extinct, and not just Very Dormant?
This can be like one of those Internet Diaries, or Confessionals. Tell Vleeptron what you REALLY feel about the year just finishing, and tell Vleeptron how you REALLY feel about the next 365 days, which are, for the most part, Tohu v'Vohu -- Void and Without Form. Could go either way. We could all receive a $9400 check in the mail from a government agency we never heard of. Or sharks could eat us. Do you live anywhere near a big volcano? Who told you it was extinct, and not just Very Dormant?
But maybe you have Imagination or  Intuition or A Hunch, or Insider Trading info, or a really hot Tarot  Deck, and your Minor Arcana keeps coming up Morte and le Pendu and le  Catastrophe.
 Tell Vleeptron what you  see.
 Tell Vleeptron what you  saw.
 Tell Vleeptron what you will have  seen.
 Tell Vleeptron what you're going to  see.
 If you are or have been or will have been seen by Vleeptron, spill it. We want the skinny, what's the  411?
 Meanwhile, I wish you all --  Adventure! Ah shit, let me see if I can find this speech ...
 Found it!
 BARNABY
 The test of an adventure is that  when you're in the middle of it, you say to yourself, 'Oh, now I've got  myself into an awful mess; I wish I were sitting quietly at home.' And  the sign that something is wrong with you is when you sit quietly at  home wishing you were out having lots of adventure.
 (a few more summing-up words, Final  Curtain)
 -- "The Matchmaker," by Thornton  Wilder
 "The Matchmaker" -- and "Ferris  Beuller's Day Off," and "Hello, Dolly!" and about a dozen other  pieces of drama, musical-comedy and cinema -- is descended from John Oxenford's  1835 farce "A Day Well Spent," which was translated and lengthened into "Einen  Jux will er sich machen" by Austrian playwright Johann Nestroy in 1842. Tom  Stoppard has a version, set in Vienna at a season in which everyone is wearing  kilts and Scottish Highlands attire, called "On the Razzle." It's a lot of fun,  the best I've yet seen from this curious and ancient lineage. It's pretty  filthy, but in a good-hearted sort of way. But it's pretty filthy. It's about  the filthiest thing I ever saw on a stage -- and I once acted in "Lysistrata"  wearing a giant synthetic erection under my tunic.
 Stoppard addresses a rarely-asked  question: 
 If you spend 15 years, hours and  hours every day, staring down or ahead at the heaving, sweating, shaking,  undulating, quivering monstrous buttocks of one or two dray horses, what effects  might it have on your personality and behavior?
 PS. If I'm all full of shit and  totally wrong about the mathematics and physics of The Einstein-Minkowski Light  Cone, PLEASE feel free to tell me. Send Vleeptron some equations. Specific  numbers. Shock & Awe me. Rock my world.















