Last night, after athletic sexual intercourse with a Latino shepherd (I call him Tiddles, though his patronymic is Juandez), I went to sleep. Usually, my well-chiselled and shapely reader, I drift into a contented slumber wherein Karen O performs benchpresses upon each cabinet in the IKEA catalogue, then satisfies every sexual whim nestling in the hinterland of my anima.
However, last night was devoid of such mirth. I began to think about the doppelgänger, a German word meaning a person who looks like you but isn’t you. I thought about other people out there who look like me, think like me, act like me, write like me-he-he, who might even – perish the though – be me-hee-hee! Oh, me-hee-hee! They wanna be like me-hee-hee!
What if in another multiverse, dear horny evangelical reader, a second M.J. Nicholls was out there, sitting in a poorly heated Edinburgh flat, drinking cheap supermarket cola, writing the exact same thing as this M.J. Nicholls in a blog produced in a parallel dimension?
Now, before we hypothesise, I should state my own position on the mysteries of cosmological infinity. I have recently become a member of R. Gon Buggard’s Religiontolgy. We believe that Hollywood actresses created the universe through the sheer power of their performances in heart-warming dramas about families in wartime. So Cameron Diaz is to us as much of a God, as say, God.
This being the case, we eschew all notions of the multiverse, although we do sort of agree with Hugh Everett’s many worlds interpretation, that a level III multiverse does not contain more possibilities in the Hubble volume than a level I-II multiverse. And that, in effect, all the different worlds created by “splits” in a level III multiverse with the same physical constants can be found in some Hubble volume in a level I multiverse. That’s just obvious.
But this waking dream of a second me, mimicking me, and doing the same stuff as me, would not leave me – in fact, when I woke up I asked the second me what he thought about this paranoia:
“What do you reckon?” I asked me.
“Why don’t you ask yourself?” me asked me.
“Good idea.”
“What do you reckon?” I asked me.
“Why don’t you ask yourself?” me asked me.
“Good idea.”
“What do you reckon?” I asked me.
“Why don’t you ask yourself?” me asked me.
“Good idea.”
“What do you reckon?” I asked me.
“Why don’t you ask yourself?” me asked me.
“Good idea.”
ad infinitum
