Turn Up Those Nep-Tunes

The radical proposition of a 13-month calendar isn't just some random thought experiment—it's actually the International Fixed Calendar, proposed by Moses Cotsworth in the early 1900s. Each month would have exactly 28 days (4 perfect weeks), with the 365th day being a special "Year Day" belonging to no month or week. Leap years? Just add another special day. The lunar cycle is approximately 29.5 days, so we'd be closer to lunar alignment but still off. The real kicker? Companies actually tried this. Kodak used this calendar internally from 1928 to 1989. Sixty-one years of 13 months called things like "Sol" and "Liberty." Would it work? Sure. Would humans collectively agree to change something as fundamental as our calendar? We can't even agree on whether pineapple belongs on pizza.

Humanity's cosmic report card: "Shows potential but lacks basic interplanetary etiquette." The hypothetical Galactic Federation is basically that parent who won't let you go to the cool party until you clean your room, except our "room" is an entire planet with climate chaos, nuclear weapons, and reality TV. Advanced civilizations are probably watching us like we're a reality show called "Keeping Up With The Earthlings" and thinking, "Yeah, let's wait until they stop trying to blow themselves up before we introduce faster-than-light travel."

The cosmic gatekeeping is strong with this one! Apparently, the advanced alien civilizations have turned exoplanet preferences into the ultimate personality test. Choose a hot Jupiter? TERMINATED. Prefer a super-Earth? You might get satellite privileges. Meanwhile, the rest of us astronomers are still debating whether that fuzzy pixel is a planet or just a smudge on the telescope lens. The real question is which exoplanet gets you access to their intergalactic Wi-Fi password—because mine is terrible and I've got 4TB of data to upload.

Newton's famous law states "objects at rest stay at rest," yet the poor guy spent his career watching planets, apples, and light constantly in motion. The cosmic irony is that the man who defined inertia never actually observed it in nature. Just imagine him staring at the night sky muttering, "For once, could everything just... stop moving? I'm trying to prove a point here."

When astrophysics meets pet ownership! This furry black dog with its round shape and dark fur creates the perfect visual pun on a black hole. While actual black holes operate on Einstein's theory of general relativity with gravitational fields so intense that nothing—not even light—can escape their event horizon, this domestic "black hole" operates on the principle of infinite canine hunger . The gravitational pull of those puppy eyes is practically measurable in treats per second! Unlike cosmic black holes that emit Hawking radiation, this one emits sad whimpers until food magically disappears into its adorable singularity. Scientists are still calculating the exact equation for how quickly kitchen floors are cleaned when this phenomenon is present.

The classic IQ bell curve strikes again, but with a cosmic twist. The low IQ person thinks you could cross the galaxy "in no time" by traveling at maximum speed. The high IQ person... also thinks you could cross the galaxy "in no time" but for entirely different reasons involving relativistic time dilation. Meanwhile, the average IQ person in the middle is frantically shouting about the speed of light limit and how the Milky Way is 100,000 light-years across, not realizing that from the traveler's perspective at near-light speeds, time would indeed compress due to relativistic effects. The faster you approach light speed, the more time slows down for you relative to stationary observers. The ultimate weight loss program? Just travel at 99.99% the speed of light—you'll shed years in what feels like minutes!