What's the point of interpreting the other worlds if in the other worlds, they've decided this and that don't even exist? In those other worlds, they've decided, they don't give a fuck? What if Schrödinger is a shoemaker in the other world? Making shoes. And his cat. Sleeping. In the corner. Dreaming of mice and catnip. Not worrying about its papa writing him into some cockamamie theory he has. And, all is safe and reasonable with the world.
-the end-
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