Last night, around midnight. Sitting outside, along, looking up at the endless sky. Thinking. What if cosmological natural selection is correct? What if the Many Worlds interpretation is correct? Or both, or something even bigger yet to be discovered? How can I describe this feeling on my blog tomorrow? What is the name for the emotion I feel when I try, unsuccessfully, to comprehend the vastness of all that exists? Is emotion even the right word for it? Then I remembered a quote from Martin Gardner's The Night is Large and realized that I couldn't express it any better than he did: "If you have never experienced before those fortunately fleeting moments during which you are suddenly overpowered by the mystery of Being, arousing an emotion of dread (Sartre's novel Nausea is about this kind of metaphysical sickness) then you and I are on different wavelengths. There will be pages in this book you will not even understand." He did not mean this as an insult, nor do I. On this blog I will try to explain what it's like to be me, but the more different you are than me, the less I'll make sense to you.