We know nothing

Sometimes, I get tired of the mysteries, you know?

That's why we're here, that's the science we're doing.

But there's just moments when I've had enough. Like 0166, for example. What do we actually know? It's made of some kind of crystal, but no-one knows what sort. It's three times heavier when it's upside down, no-one knows why. And for some reason, it was hidden inside the goddamn BERLIN WALL. Surprise surprise, we have no idea how it got there.

There's reasons for all of these things, even if we don't know them yet.

I know, I know, but just occasionally - sometimes - it can feel like we know nothing, at all, about any of this stuff around us. Then I start questioning everything. I probably just need more sleep.