The Mysteries of the Multiverse

If my initial reaction to the theory that our universe is just one in an infinite series of universes in the multiverse, each universe containing a slightly different version of me — if my initial reaction to this theory is that I’m going to be the BEST one (of all the me’s) and all the others me’s can kiss my ass — does that suggest that I have a competitive nature?

(Perhaps more importantly, do all the me’s have this competitive nature? Because if so, I think I/we am/are in trouble…)

Speaking of alternate dimensions… against all expectations, I’m utterly charmed by ABC’s new drama Once upon a Time. I’m three episodes in. The premise is that back in fairytale land, Snow White’s evil queen cast a spell on all the characters, propelling them into a terrible alternate dimension — our world. Now they all live in a small town in present-day Maine, and none of them can remember the truth of their pasts or their true identities. (Here’s more about the show.) It’s fun to watch the real-world manifestations of such familiar characters (including, so far, characters from Snow White, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Little Red Riding Hood, Rumpelstiltskin, and more); it’s also fun to learn their back stories during the parts of the show when we jump back in time to when everyone was themselves, living in fairytale land. For example, how did Snow White and Prince Charming really meet? Cast into the forest by the Evil Queen and scrambling for a means to live, she stole from him, of course. Here’s a picture of Snow White kneeing Prince Charming in the stomach. Yee-haw! Also, I have to say, this Prince Charming is extremely charming. Rakish grin, heart of gold, ability to shoot an arrow hundreds of yards through a forest of trees into the back of the man on the galloping horse kidnapping the woman who (Snow White) just punched him (Prince Charming) in the face and threw him in the river: he’s got the whole package.

Relatedly, what does it mean if you finally set about to clean a closet no one’s cleaned in years, then find it to be spotless? Not a cobweb, not a dust bunny, not a single carpet beetle carcass, not a speck of lint, not even in the deepest darkest corners? Would you start pushing things aside looking for a looking glass, wardrobe, police box, or the door to Howl’s moving castle? Or am I the only one who, finding something clean in my house, assumes that I’ve stumbled upon a portal to an alternate dimension?