Although it is not likely that I will be personally affected whether either of the current leading theories about the end of the universe is correct (cover story, Feb. 11), I was interested to read about the Atacama Cosmology Telescope in Chile. In her memoir My Invented Country, Isabel Allende writes: “ ... the air there is so pure that no star — either dead or yet to be born — escapes the eye of its gigantic telescope. Apropos of the observatory, someone who has worked there for three decades told me that the most renowned astronomers in the world wait years for their turn to scour the universe. I commented that it must be stupendous to work with scientists whose eyes are always on infinity and who live detached from earthly miseries, but he informed me that it is just the opposite: Astronomers are as petty as poets. He says they fight over jam at breakfast.”
Although it is not likely that I will be personally affected whether either of the current leading theories about the end of the universe is correct (cover story, Feb. 11), I was interested to read about the Atacama Cosmology Telescope in Chile. In her memoir My Invented Country, Isabel Allende writes: “ ... the air there is so pure that no star — either dead or yet to be born — escapes the eye of its gigantic telescope. Apropos of the observatory, someone who has worked there for three decades told me that the most renowned astronomers in the world wait years for their turn to scour the universe. I commented that it must be stupendous to work with scientists whose eyes are always on infinity and who live detached from earthly miseries, but he informed me that it is just the opposite: Astronomers are as petty as poets. He says they fight over jam at breakfast.”