The greatest news of the summer is the CERN project. Even as I write, this incredible tool is starting to crank up, sending atoms racing in opposite directions through miles of magnetic coils like bullet trains passing mere inches from each other in the tunnel on the Tokyo-to-Fukuoka run. So what if two protons knock foreheads and give birth to a speck of dark matter, or to a black hole the size of a gnat’s arsehole? The savants tell us not to be concerned and so I’m not. I recall that some folks predicted dire consequences when Haley’s comet returned years back, yet the whole thing turned out to be a non-event. I don’t think the weather even allowed us one good view. I can just imagine the grin on Spinoza’s face, or Newton’s, or Einstein’s when, in the coming weeks, we’ll suddenly understand more of the complexities of where we came from and where we’re going. Inspiring times indeed, even for an expat poet and reader of William Blake.