Of Monkeys and that

If an infinite number of monkeys typed on an infinite number of typewriters, one would eventually publish the complete works of Shakespeare. Infinity makes it happen; that's the rub.
 With infinity, everything is possible; it's more than possible, it exists: everything.

Isn't it queer? But yet, back in 2010, people didn't even believe any aliens existed. Is this not egotism to its utmost? Looking at the absurd species on Ferengal or Zeuslya, our own race's self-bias then is rendered even more ridiculous.

In our infinite universe, there's a planet made of jelly. There's stars having sex using dildos and stuff. There's armies of water bottles throwing pecans and almonds at rebellious bands of leather wallets. There's the complete opposite of that, too. There's girls, guys; electrons, protons; neutrons! that's a good one; there's a solar system that looks like Bob Geldof. There's Aliens who are nine feet tall. There's aliens that are eight feet tall. There's aliens that are feet. There's aliens that are nine. There's... everything.

At the very least, in 2033, we are closer to everything.

Numero Uno

Space is infinite. Therefore, there's a lot going on. Everywhere. Different... sectors.. and galaxies.. and stuff.. man, it's so deep.

Our planet Earth is in the "Goldilocks Zone", where the conditions for life are randomly perfect. If it wasn't, we wouldn't be here. It's not the choice of God's, it's luck. In an infinite universe, there are infinite possibilities, including an infinite amount of planets and galaxies like ours. So everything is possible.

But what are our limitations in the year 2033? Can we warp? How fast do our ships go? Are we inhabiting other planets yet? I don't know, because I have lived in abject poverty for most of my waking life in Detroit. Well, once these things become clearer maybe I will have more to write about.