Начала читать Out of Scattered Things.
Пиздец, как же так хорошо-то.

ПИСЬМА. Господи, просто как начал читать, сразу канон, идеально, все, навсегда, насовсем, епрст, какие они STUPID CUTE NERDS.

Speaking of positions and optimizing them, what are you doing right now, by the way? Finishing up more quantum-foam thinking? Looking for a post-doc? Working this giant document you sent me into a paper? That’s what I’d do if I were you; it’s almost like...a mathematical opinion piece that’s going to make you look like an outrageous quantum mechanical savant if you publish it before the empirical data that everyone’s waiting on and like a prepared mathematical badass if you wait. You should probably wait. [Enthusiastic aside: don’t wait! Responsible aside: wait.]

<...>

To formally answer your question, I am neither appalled by your mathematical literacy nor purposefully being obstructive. I am entirely delighted to encounter an askew mathematical twist upon a too-familiar problem, and I am impressed at the extent to which you are able to follow my work. Your grasp of quantum field theory is sounder than it has any right to be, I find your notation to be entirely charming, and I await a delineation of your mathematical/quantum mechanical credentials with much anticipation.

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И КОНЕЧНО ЕЩЕ ОЧЕНЬ МНОГО КВАНТОМНОЙ ФИЗИКИ. И ЦИТАТЫ ИЗ ФУКИДИДА. И ОТСЫЛКА К ПЕСНЕ НОВОВВЕДЕНОГО АВТОРОМ ЖАНРА (Intellectual Underground) КОТОРУЮ НАПИСАЛ ПОСТОРОННИЙ ЧЕЛОВЕК МММММ ФАНДОМ

А потом Кэйтлин, hjfgdhjfdghjkdfghjk, живая-живая (живая!), любит свою кошку, считает до четырех в качестве coping mechanism, слушает Supercos, и, ну, вообще, все.

“It’s currently controlled, but anxiety, frustration—they may exacerbate things. I’ll need people around me who could step up in the event that my performance were to be compromised in any way. Everyone will need to know. It’s not a thing that can be held against me on an institutional level. Do you understand what I mean by that?”

ну и тут уже просто мурашки, потому что, боженьки, это же начало всего (и больно заранее, а я даже не слушала еще Blue Guitar, только Lightcap as List)

They walk into crisping air of a September night, Pentecost matching her strides, Lightcap counting silently in her head in time with her steps, not in stylized neutralization but just for luck, the chords of an obscure band playing in her head, her shoes clicking against the pavement, already planning the call she’ll make to Tendo Choi, what she will say, how she will say it; already adjusting the flow of her presentation, scaling things up, growing them organically from already overwhelming beginnings—she’ll now need quantum physicists to study the anomalies in the Pacific and she’ll need biologists to study Trespasser and whatever else might come through, and she’ll need Jaeger pilots; people ready to look death straight in the face on behalf of their species.

Maybe she’ll get to do it herself.


А самое главное – я так чувствую эту вселенную, она просто пульсирует.
и вот одновременно с этим разговором в баре в DC, где-то примерно в то же время в Кембридже (MA) биолог/невролог/будущий экзобиолог пишет письма через Атлантику, и, возможно, все еще пишет песни, которые слушает Лайткэп в DC, и все такое большое и бесконечное и впереди.