Ah yes, I remember it well

It’s Not Unusual (how many song titles can I cram into one blog?) to remember the first time you did something, saw something or felt something. Recently, I’ve been reminiscing about the first time I didn’t do, see or feel things. Not, as in, didn’t do this but instead did that; no, I mean didn’t do / see / feel anything at all.

Philosophers, and maybe psychologists, would have fun with the idea of doing / seeing / feeling / reminiscing about nothing. Nothing is nothing. Nothing is a strange concept ‘personified’ by, if I can anthropomorphise it, the time before the Big-Bang, which is an oxymoron because time didn’t exist before the Big Bang. Pre-Big-Bang itself didn’t exist. No existence, no time (almost rhymes with No Woman, No Cry).

The theory goes that there was this nothingness until almost 14 billion years ago when every bit of energy crammed into a teeny-tiny point that exploded phenomenally, creating matter and propelling it outward. Unlike a man-made bomb that expands through air, the Big Bang didn’t expand through anything because there was nothing to expand through; the Big Bang, by its very being, created the space as it expanded. Beyond the Big Bang’s boundaries … well, there’s no beyond. Our universe is finite in size, unless you sign up to the theory that space and time are curved, which means that if you leave Earth travelling in ‘a straight line’ you’ll end up back on Earth (after a few billion years). But that’s a conceptual step too far and I don’t want to lead you down a ‘worm hole’ 😊. If you don’t know what a worm hole is, watch the US sitcom The Big Bang Theory – best prog since Cheers.

Having said all that, I’ve always had a problem with the theory. If there was nothing at first, and ‘later’ all this energy crammed together and exploded, where did the energy come from? It had to come from somewhere, and if there’s a ‘somewhere’ there’s ‘space’ and there’s time (you can’t have one without the other); i.e. there’s ‘something’, which isn’t nothing. Straightforward enough.

A popular theory for decades was that the Big Bang banged repetitively. There’s a bang, the universe expands, gravity pulls everything back to a teeny tiny point, then there’s another bang, and the whole process is repeated ad infinitum. This does away with the idea of there being nothing for anything longer than a milli-second before each bang. But surely there was a first bang. I’d like to think so and dreamt up the following chain of events. Health warning: I’ve relied on Newtonian mechanics, Einstein’s general relativity, quantum mechanics and string theory in one breath – enough to give a proper physicist a coronary.

1. Originally there was nothing. 

2. The only way something could be created from nothing is if the net result were nothing. So positive and negative energies separated from nothing to be two somethings, albeit one positive and one negative. 

3. What prompted this to happen? Probability. The probability of this happening was greater than zero. Quantum mechanics is all about probabilities.

4. Energy and mass are theoretically interchangeable (E = mc2 or Energy = mass multiplied by the square of the speed of light): i.e. if you have energy, you have the potential for mass and therefore gravitational attraction. String theory puts this on a sounder footing.

5. This attraction pulled everything into a point, which was then thrust apart because of opposing forces (for every force or action there’s an equal and opposite reaction – Newton’s Third Law).

6. As the Big Bang created space and time (see above), it destabilised it at the same time and increased the probability of even more spontaneous splitting of nothingness into positive and negative energy and positive and negative matter, until we get the amount of ‘stuff’ in today’s universe.

Back to the main theme before I lose the plot completely.

Not voting
For me, not using my right to vote is a pre-Big-Bang nothingness of duty and respect for those who fought and died to secure me that right. The first time I didn’t vote was in the election for the inaugural Police and Crime Commissioners in 2012. I didn’t vote because I believe that the PCC-concept politicises the police, which is wrong, and I refused to take any part in this process. Indeed, I haven’t voted in any of the PCC elections, but it was the first time I didn't that was my paradigm shift.

Not cooking turkey
Then there was the first time I didn’t cook turkey on Christmas Day. I cooked something else, but it was the not-cooking-turkey that was significant. Hubby thought the sky had fallen in, but not sufficiently to cook it himself. Why did I change the menu? Because it’s my least favourite meat, it needs too much space in the oven and too long to cook, and it’s OTT for a small number of diners. So when 2020 Covid lockdown reduced the number of people I had to cook for – a sirloin of beef it was.

Not phoning home
The first time I didn’t phone home from Uni was needlessly traumatic on a Big Bang scale. Every Sunday I used to phone (pre-mobiles – almost as strange a concept as ‘no existence, no time’), but this one Sunday I didn’t because I was struggling to synthesise (on paper) a complicated benzene derivative for a supervision the next day. I eventually worked something out, phoned home Monday evening and got it in the neck for not phoning Sunday. In return, I played fast and loose with my phoning home for the rest of term, the moral of the story being, don’t mess with a stroppy college-gal.

Not telling the truth
Then there was the first time I realised that sometimes it’s better to not tell the truth. By “not tell the truth” I don’t necessarily mean tell lies; I mean, keep my big trap shut. If, as a direct result of my not saying anything, something good happens or something bad doesn’t happen, then that’s a better outcome than being brutally honest and causing harm. Indeed, if telling a lie also leads to a better outcome, I don’t feel obliged to atone for any sins with two Hail Marys and a packet of crisps. When was the first time I realised this? My lips are sealed.

Not doubting my judgement
Talking about telling lies, I hear BoJo might be making a comeback, which itself segways neatly into my next ‘first time’: the first time I realised that I shouldn’t, ever, doubt my judgement. I was ruminating on some of the occasions when I had doubted my judgement but shaken off the collywobbles, pressed ahead regardless and had no regrets. Just a few examples: leaving Blighty to live in the US; registering with the OU to do a Masters in the social sciences (right brain) despite my previous higher education being natural sciences (left brain); and voting Leave instead of Remain.

Then there were the occasions when I wouldn’t listen to my better judgement, gave in to my doubts, and it all ended in tears – my tears. Not saying anymore because of what I said previously about keeping my trap shut.

After all that, the first time I realised that I should never doubt my judgement ever again was … (fanfare) … this weekend. I’ve been saying since Partygate that Boris should stay as PM, because: he’d been elected by the people; his transgressions were comparatively minor – look at his rap sheet against those of Labour MPs; and the alternatives (other Tories and L-L-L Labour) would be worse. Much worse. I was tempted, when I came under pressure, to think again about sticking up for him but I stuck to my convictions and have been vindicated – Blighty is in a worse state because Boris was ousted.

If Boris were to lead the Tories into the next election I’d vote for him, but I don’t think he should (or would), because some Tory MPs and other Remainers, socialists, left-wing media, the uncivil service, judiciary and the Church would conspire to bring him down again, regardless of the will of the people. This anti-Boris/anti-Brexit rogues’ gallery, or ‘Blob’ as they deserve to be called, would rather bring Blighty to its knees than do what’s best for the country and help to deliver the Brexit dividends. 

Feeling nothing
Because of the Blob, our so-called ruling class, I feel no pride in my country for the first time ever. I don’t feel shame. I feel nothing. My feelings on the issue don’t exist, like the time before the Big Bang.

All the major political parties are complicit in this country’s downfall, not only because of their obstinacy over Brexit: Tories for diverting eyes from non-Brexit balls and allowing things to drift towards the rapids; Labour for (i) backing disruptive, politically motivated strikes (ii) ignoring if not facilitating the rape of thousands of girls by men of Pakistani heritage (iii) subscribing to the dangerous trans ideology that puts women, vulnerable young adults and children in harms’ way, including from the NHS; Greens for supporting eco-zealots who block emergency vehicles; SNP for, well, just about everything; Lib Dems for not knowing what their role is other than to support Labour; Sinn Fein for being Sinn Fein; and I won’t criticise the DUP as a matter of principle because at least they have a conscience, unlike Sinn-Beelzebub-Fein.

Last time I checked, rape was a more heinous crime than infighting or eating cake and lying about it, so the Guardian luvvies on LinkedIn, the Guardian itself, Twitter Tw-ts and the BBC, to name just a few, pointing the finger at just the Tories and singling out Boris for the harshest criticism doesn’t hold water. They’re taking the p-ss. Heck, my origins-of-the-universe theory makes more sense

Assuming Boris doesn’t lead the Tories into the next election, I will either not vote at all or vote for one of the minor parties: Foundation, Reclaim, Reform, UKIP or Heritage. Why not? They have no less credibility or moral standing than any of the other parties.

Whether Fishy Rishi (I assume it will be) stays in power for any length of time or quickly loses to a leftie alliance, the economy, environment and society will only tank further. Rather than sit back and see: more households forced into poverty; more ancient forests destroyed; more power handed to the unions and eco-idiots; more women and girls abused; and more vulnerable kids and adults poisoned and mutilated in the name of trans, I won’t wait for the pub to close before doing what any stroppy college-gal would do, and it would make the Big Bang look like a spluttering candle.