>One of the most rewarding parts of scientific research is the way it enriches my appreciation of the universe. The more I learn, the more beautiful the world becomes—it’s what drives me to stay curious, to keep asking questions. With that said, there is a substance called sand I know almost nothing about, and I should make it clear that this is by choice. I never want to understand sand.

Throughout my career, I’ve studied subjects as varied as the birth of whole galaxies and the presence of dark matter in our universe, but I would like sand to remain a total mystery to me. I never want to know what it’s made of or what it’s for, nor do I want to know why it sometimes exists as a castle and sometimes only as a smooth hill. I don’t want to know whether sand comes from the ocean or the sky. I want to know nothing about sand.

Perhaps sand is the fuel that powers hourglasses, or perhaps it’s a hot liquid you can’t throw away. I am able to enjoy both of these possibilities without feeling any special desire to find out which one is true. If someone were to tell me that sand is a special kind of polished dust that protects us from the sea, I wouldn’t ever want to know for sure if that person was right or wrong.
What the fuck is wrong with this person? /lit/, can you explain to me how someone like this has become such an icon of modern intelectual thought?