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The light of one thousand suns, burns your name across the morning sky. Basking in it's splendor, staggered by it's majesty, theoretical physicists laughed and cried. In a small way, I too assumed that all of you felt the same. Never mind quantum tunneling and field theory. Forget theories of electrons and positrons. There is no time for us to worry, about molecular wave functions. Did you believe that ratting out all of your friends would wipe your conscience clean? Naming names and red baiting were clever ways to restore your reputation. Burying yourself in theories of black holes and neutron stars will temporarily cover up your past's deep scars. What if colitis had taken your life? What if you had fallen in love with mineralogy? You would not have had to become death, or had to mask your regret. Instead we would read of a twentieth century Al Biruni.
- Álbum:
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