Sung to the tune of Old Toy Trains:

Disembodied brains
Existing in a jar
A theory not disproved
No matter who you are

A theory from a man
Messin’ with your head
Little fool, can you even know
If you are alive or dead

The wife is out of town so I finally got to watch some Stephen Hawking on Netflix. (Sorry, Northern Exposure. You’re officially on hiatus.) I promptly wrote the song above. Thanks a lot, Steve.

Actually, without even knowing it, I twixed the mind master of disaster a long time ago. You see, I’ve long had this theory of my own.

In my version, I am the only person who really exists. An evil all-powerful genius creates a bubble of reality, with me at the center, that follows me around no matter where I go. Places, things and yes, even people, are all illusions created to torment my existence. Apparently the meaning of life is to torture me, the humble innocent. The most probable explanation is that He’s writing a sequel to the Book of Job.

If my theory is true, that means I’m talking to myself right now. Touché, touché!

The point of the brain in a vat thought experiment is that the theory can’t be disproven, therefore, it’s possible. I like to think probable. It also shows that scientists will gleefully rip from the inventive world of Hollywood for their own selfish means. Isn’t there some way to protect us from the scientists?

Oh, almost forgot. They aren’t real, either.