Our Terrifying Universe
My television habits are if not entirely predictable somewhat clearly structured. I’ve got whatever weekly shows I’m watching, at least one show I’m bingeing, and usually one show I’m rewatching. In the mornings, I move from one science or nature or animal show to the next. Right now, that’s Our Universe. Already just from the first episode, my recurring existential crisis has returned, as it traces the pathways of energy “from star to cell”. I’m left again to be cast adrift in that expansive sense that it’s incomprehensible that the universe exists and functions at all. Most science and nature shows don’t do this to me; it takes a certain kind of approach. (Weirdly, I think print articles more frequently provoke this.) The various David Attenborough shows give me a sense of appreciation. The brilliant One Strange Rock gave me awe without anxiety. As a kid, I don’t remember Cosmos doing anything but feeding my curiosity. Our Universe in just one episode has me wondering if I should continue daily: would I be subjecting myself to this feeling every morning for a week?