Looking through the chaos I laughingly refer to as my files (I was searching for my poetic license - I think it expired), I came upon a newspaper clipping from October 2006 with this headline:
Scientists create real invisibility shield.
And I quote: " . . . researchers at Duke University have developed . . . a primitive device that hides objects by bending electromagnetic waves so that they flow around the object . . . (I seem already to have something in my house that hides objects, especially my cell phone.) Because none of the waves is reflected back at the observer, the object is invisible . . . "
Holy Harry Potter, Batman! OK, so you can't exactly walk into Target and buy an invisibility cloak just yet (and if you could, they'd doubtless be out of my size), but it sets me to thinking what I might do if I could walk around completely unseen. What kindnesses or good deeds might I perform in my ultimate anonymity?
To be honest, I'd probably just do some serious eavesdropping. Not very noble, I know, but there are many domestic scenes, meetings and backstage situations where I would just LOVE to know what goes on when I'm not around.
Or, I could sneak into people's homes to see what the house looks like when company isn't expected. Not naming names here, but it seems that everybody I know has a nicer, better kept house than I do. I'm betting that if I could see what the place looks like on an ordinary day, I might get over that. Of course, sneaking around in my invisibility shield, I'd have to avoid klutz moves like cracking my shins on the coffee table or catching the corner of a cabinet with my hip, the kind of thing I do on a regular basis even in my own home.
Apparently that would not be my only difficulty. " . . . cloaking a Romulan spaceship, a tank or even a human would produce a serious limitation," the piece goes on to say. "Because all the incoming light is bent around the cloaked object, anyone inside would be left, quite literally in the dark . . . Any device used to provide vision for the occupant would itself be visible . . "
Well, I'm in the dark most of the time, but if I can't see the house I'm sneaking around in, the whole thing definitely loses some of its cool, don't you think?
That's the trouble with life. There's always a catch.
About Me
- Jan C. Snow
- Since 1984, my light commentary, Marginal Considerations, has been a feature of Weekend Radio. Moving into the 21st century (yeah, I know - a decade late and more than a dollar short), it may be time to explore the format known as "the blog." (Still on the radio, BTW.) I am the author of A Natural History of Socks, illustrated by the late Eric May, You May Already Be a Winner (and other marginal considerations) and The Nonexistence of Rutabagas, plus maybe 1K features, essays, book and arts reviews in newspapers and magazines nearly everywhere, except perhaps Kansas. I live on Lake Erie one city to the west of Cleveland with too many musical instruments, several large plants and no cats. My front door is purple. I collect dust, take up space and burn fossil fuel. I kayak, knit, hike, sing, canoe, write choral music and play hammered dulcimer, but not all at the same time. I read too much and don't write enough, but what's new?
As Harry Potter's avid fan, I'm thinking that J. K. Rowling came up with a better invisibility cloak than these scientists. Maybe she knows something they don't!
ReplyDeleteAnd maybe the whole thing is that our imaginations can always give us that cloak if we let go of our need to always be so downright realistic. Perhaps we need to cloak ourselves in possibilities.
Peace.
My house is not nicer, or better kept, and I'd know you were there because I'd hear all the sneezing from the cat fur. No stealthiness for you, I'm afraid.
ReplyDeleteI would take allergy pills first! HA!
ReplyDelete