The globule of beer appeared to be moving gently from side to side. I knew this was an illusion caused by my own swaying, but the persuasiveness of the motion enchanted me. It also helped convince my body there was no cause for alarm.
The globule of beer appeared to be moving gently from side to side. I knew this was an illusion caused by my own swaying, but the persuasiveness of the motion enchanted me. It also helped convince my body there was no cause for alarm.
"Notice how the beer moves of its own accord," he said.
"B*llocks," I answered, and left him to figure out the reasoning behind my conclusion.
Undeterred he brushed down his trousers in preparation for a mighty proclamation of insight. His legs thoroughly stimulated, he continued.
"Such an effect is obviously due to quantum momentum, something of which science has only lately become aware."
Fluid on pub tables is scarcely a recent phenomenon, but I did not feel like arguing the issue. Besides the drunken b*stard was determined to talk.
"Quantum physics, you see, allows for all sorts of incongruous events. For instance, one can never measure a projectile's direction - a - as well as its velocity - b, the investigator becoming a contaminating influence, so to speak." He paused. "Could I impinge on your generosity-"
"No."
He licked his rapidly parching lips.
"Well, anyhow at the quantum level causality itself breaks down with particles appearing of their own accord here, there and everywhere. Something can literally be in two places at once. Things determine themselves really."
Being more of an economist than a physicist, I took a rather more productive view of this theory.
"There you go then. Solves your alcoholic dilemma."
"What?" he asked perplexed.
"You are looking for a drink?"
"A small measure, yes, that would do."
"If what you say is true, this pint can be in two places at once. Drink away."
"At a quantum level, at a quantum level!" he remonstrated, getting very excited. "That doesn't matter!"
A few more globules appeared on the table, some spittle, some beer. My beer.
"Is it matter?" I asked coldly.
"Yes, but-"
"Then it matters. Cheers!"
Pleased with my rational approach and obvious victory, I hastily downed quite a large gulp of my beverage. However, this swallow was made in ignorance of the quantum forces at work in my oesophagus. A sizeable portion of said beverage took the b route rather than the a one causing a rather indeterminate heaving of my diaphragm. My diaphragm in its non-quantum capacity as an excitable part of my anatomy did have a causal influence on my stomach. This, in turn excited and animated, determined to rectify in some small way the mistake originally made. Thus the a route was ultimately encountered by more globules of drink, this time very definitely moving.
As a contaminating influence on my environment, I was not in a position to appreciate the velocity of the resultant projectile. Nevertheless I am pretty certain it went in the direction of the drunken b*stard's legs.
"A true leader of men," he murmured, and set about brushing his trousers again.