Anyway, my report into the then-current state of particle research at Blandwagon Self-Indulgence Enterprises is as follows:
The Search for the Elusive Higgs Boson Particle
In the world of particle physics, no field of research has captured the public imagination quite like the search for the Higgs boson.
The Higgs boson, or, to give it its full name as designated by the media, the elusive Higgs boson, has been at the centre of multi-billion dollar research drives at the CERN facility in Switzerland and Fermilab in the United States. The Large Hadron Collider at CERN, built at a cost of $4.4 billion, was designed specifically to isolate and identify the Higgs boson. However even with billion dollar budgets and the contributions of the greatest particle physicists in the world, the Higgs boson has remained hidden.
It is for this reason that I decided to join the search, and, in my own small way, contribute to the furtherment of science and our understanding of the universe.
I began my search for the elusive Higgs boson in my living room. I often discover bits of lost crap between my couch cushions, along with fragments of popcorn, loose coins and buttons that pop off my brother-in-law’s shirts when he parks his fat arse on my couch and then scratches himself like an itchy gorilla. After I pulled the cushions off the couch I discovered any number of gluons, the occasional photon, a Mintie wrapper and the tweezers from my swiss army knife that I’ve been trying to find for, like, forever. But no signs of the Higgs boson.
The junk drawer in the kitchen, another useful source of subatomic particles and duct tape, also yielded no positive results. The space under my bed did not contain any Higgs bosons, unless they were being held captive by the dust bunnies and denied all access to the outside world and an independent media. As for my toolbox, in which one can usually find everything from gravitons to broken hacksaw blades, there was nothing but fermions. Stupid fermions. Of course they’re everywhere; unlike bosons they cannot occupy the same quantum state, so they’re scattered all over the place like the crumbs after my brother-in-law has eaten half a tray of my sister’s shortbread. The fat pig.
I looked under the seats in my car, but all I found was a pen, some receipts, and a Rihanna CD that my brother-in-law ripped for me. Seriously, Rihanna. What are we, fourteen year old girls? I thought I felt a meson under the passenger seat, but it turned out to be an M&M. And it wasn’t even a peanut one.
Dispirited but unbowed, I got in my car and drove to the Imperial Hotel, where I searched for the Higgs boson in several dirty vodka martinis. Then I searched for it under the barstools, on the floor in the ladies toilet, in the armpit of a bouncer named Terry, and finally in a doner kebab at Midnite Munchies on Pakington Street.
So at the end of this exhaustive study, I cannot state that I have found the elusive Higgs boson particle, but I can at least prove the hypothesis that it’s always in the last place you look.