Hello, Nurse

Wow. I hear . . . voices.  Many, many voices.  

I have the best nurse ever.

Dear Mr. President

Mr. President, I have a proposal.  It's not a modest proposal, but it is a simple one.  Please remove our ground forces from Afghanistan.

I know, you've heard this before, but bear with me for a moment.  I know that you have set the end of 2014 as the date that we will get out, and I know that you are a man who sticks to his guns.  We can all see that you do that.  But what, really, have we to gain by hanging around and getting shot at?

During your administration an average of 32 Americans die in Afghanistan every month.  That's more than one every day.  During the previous administration the average was about 6 per month.  That is a lot of blood shed on your orders, and a lot of Americans who have far less to be thankful for this season.  What have we got to show for it?

Yes, you've killed a lot of terrorists, and there's nothing wrong with killing terrorists.  Love it.  Good job.  But do we really need all those Americans in harm's way to achieve that?

Yes, we've trained the Afghan military to defend their own country and to prop up their own corrupt, double-dealing government.  That's swell too.  All it has cost us is a lot of lives, green on blue killings, and having to take lip from our good friend, Hamid Karzai who is, let's face it, a punk.

So, what's to stop us from leaving right now?  Are we concerned that if we go terrorists will begin to use Afghanistan as a base of operations again?  Is that the problem?  Okay, I've got that one solved.

Actually, you've got that one solved. Years ago, during your first presidential campaign, you said that if terrorists (you were speaking specifically of Osama Bin Laden, but the point is still a good one) were based in another country, and that country was unable or unwilling to go and get them, then we would do the job.  You were right.  You proved it when ordered the assault on Bin Laden's compound in Pakistan.  You have proven it by striking at our enemies in The Philippines, in Yemen, in Kashmir, and all over Africa.  You can do it in Afghanistan.  You can tell the Karzai government that they are now ready to run their own country, congratulate them on their rapid progress, and get us out.  You can make sure that they understand that if anyone starts to use any part of their eternally fractured country as a base for international terrorism, we will strike.  We will strike with missiles, with drones, with air power, with naval guns, with special forces, or with as many soldiers as you, the commander-in-chief, deems prudent.

This proposal has a lot of advantages.  For one thing, we will be unsubscribing from the coffin-a-day program that we're on now.   For another, freeing up those troops will help the process of transforming our military into a more nimble, flexible fighting force, the kind that doesn't rely on old battleships, bayonets, and horses.  Finally, by setting up the military to quickly take on our enemies, regardless of borders, you will be creating a bold new global strategy based upon your successful elimination of Osama Bin Laden.  We can call it the Obama Doctrine.

With the Obama Doctrine in place there will be no safe haven for our foes, our losses will be reduced, and you will be remembered as the president who gave us both war and peace.

How about it Mr. President?  What do you say we bring them home by Christmas?

Grover > Elmo

I'm glad that the puppeteer behind Elmo has been cleared of the false accusation that had been made against him.  He seems to be a nice man.  I'm sure I'd like him.

But I don't like Elmo.

It's not anything in particular that he's done.  He's not a bad little fellow himself.  Yes, his squeaky voice is an irritant.  Yes, he is basically an idiot child.  And certainly Elmo's Song is a crime against humanity.  But he's a cute little critter, nice to visit with once in a while.  Once in a great while.

What really pisses me off about Elmo is how he has taken over as the number one monster on Sesame Street.  It used to be Grover.  Lovable, furry, old Grover, everybody's pal.  Superhero, restaurateur,  teacher, this guy could do it all.  Not particularly well, but you've got to admit, he had heart.  Now, you barely see the blue guy at all.

All of which is just an excuse to post a couple of videos.

Here is Grover being ever so helpful as a waiter.


And here is Grover helping John John  count to one.

What a guy.

Glenn's Book of Quotes Number Thirty

"The appeal of the spectrally macabre is generally narrow because it demands from the reader a certain degree of imagination and a capacity for detachment from everyday life." -- H.P. Lovecraft

Happy Halloween to all you imaginative, intelligent people out there. As for the rest of you, enjoy your slasher movies, sparkly vampires, and fun-size candy bars. To each their own, boys and ghouls.

Big Jared is Watching You

It was lunchtime and, having been too disorganized to pack a lunch (again), I took a short walk to the nearest place that could provide me with a meal that was both cheap and quick.  For me, that's Subway.  You know the place.  It's the one that says you can "eat fresh" by consuming preserved meats.  Yeah.  I'm not crazy about it, but it's a sandwich and I don't have a lot of time or money, so it works.  After the sandwich artist had made my lunch I grabbed a bottle of Diet Coke and stood at the register.  The friendly lady stopped as she was ringing me up and reminded me that I had a Subway card in my wallet (don't judge me).  It was nice of her to remember, and hey, I'll save a few bucks someday, so, you know.

I walked back to the workshop, carrying my bag of meat, bread, and veg, and sat myself back down at my desk.  I was on break, so I put work out of my mind for a moment, logged into Twitter, and prepared to read the wit and wisdom of the world wide interweb.

The tweet that stood at the top of my timeline caught my eye.  It was "sponsored."  That is, it was an ad.  I usually ignore these, but I was struck by the coincidence   It was from Subway.  The tweet said that I could enter to win a trip to Italy if I gave them free advertising by tweeting a picture of my sandwich and my Diet Coke.

Think about that.  It might be random chance that I got an ad from Subway just as I came back from Subway after using my customer loyalty card.  It might be just one of those things that they asked for a picture of a sub as it was sitting right in front of me.  But to ask for the sub along with the brand of soft drink that I had just purchased?  That is what you call creepy.

George Orwell's dystopic vision of the future just barely missed.  Yes, the government can and does keep citizens under surveillance, but it is big business who is really paying attention.  Not so they can oppress us.  So that they can better serve us.  I am reminded of "I, Mudd," the Star Trek episode in which androids plan to do the same thing.

NORMAN: We shall serve them. Their kind will be eager to accept our service. Soon they will become completely dependent upon us. 

ALICE 99: Their aggressive and acquisitive instincts will be under our control. 

NORMAN: We shall take care of them. 

SPOCK: Eminently practical. 

KIRK: The whole galaxy controlled by your kind? 

NORMAN: Yes, Captain. And we shall serve them and you will be happy, and controlled.

And we let the androids in.  We joined the social media sites that mine us for information.  We accepted the loyalty cards that sold our privacy for a cup of coffee or a burger.  And we could do something about it, but we won't.  Because we are happy.  And controlled.

Orwell was not our prophet.  It was Walt Kelly's Pogo.  "We have met the enemy and he is us."

The Code of the Cowboy

Here's to singing cowboy superstar Gene Autry, who was born 105 years ago today.  Back in his day he was as big a star as ever shown in the west.  Today he's just the kind of hero that we wish we could root for. Gene was always the good guy, and he wrote this, the Code of the Cowboy.  Learn it.  Live it.

1. The Cowboy must never shoot first, hit a smaller man, or take unfair advantage.
2. He must never go back on his word, or a trust confided in him.
3. He must always tell the truth.
4. He must be gentle with children, the elderly, and animals.
5. He must not advocate or possess racially or religiously intolerant ideas.
6. He must help people in distress.
7. He must be a good worker.
8. He must keep himself clean in thought, speech, action, and personal habits.
9. He must respect women, parents, and his nation's laws.
10. The Cowboy is a patriot.

And to top it off, he stared in my all time favorite serial, The Phantom Empire.  Here's part one:

Glenn's Book of Quotes Number Twenty-Nine

"You have some queer friends, Dorothy," she said.

"The queerness doesn't matter, so long as they're friends," was the answer.

-- The Road to Oz by L. Frank Baum

Really, it's just that simple.  Even a little girl from Kansas can see it.  

Glenn's Book of Quotes Number Twenty-Eight

"Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead."

-- Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard's Almanac

I keep this quote in mind to remind myself that none of you can be trusted.  I also like Ronald Reagan's favorite Russian proverb: "Trust but verify."  You know what that means?  It means "don't trust."  

It's a hard lesson, but listen to me, oh my best beloved, never completely trust anyone.  There is only one person that you can trust, and that's yourself, and I wouldn't be too sure about that either.  This is a grim little entry from the Book of Quotes, but I've lived long enough to have been lied to, betrayed, cheated on, slandered, and stolen from.  I'm not saying that you should act as if everyone was a scoundrel, just be prepared for when they turn out to be so.

Glenn's Book of Quotes Number Twenty-Seven

"By doubting we are led to enquiry, and by enquiry we discern the truth." -- Peter Abelard

I distrust people who have no doubt.  If you do not doubt, you do not think, and people who do not think proceed with absolute confidence in the rightness of their motives, and absolute blindness to the consequences of their acts.  I have met people of faith for whom doubt is a sin.  Just as the unexamined life is not worth living, the unexamined faith is not worth believing in.  If you have not doubted, you have not really thought about your faith.  If you have not thought about your faith, how do you really know if it is the truth?  Do you not trust yourself?

When someone says that they know that God exists because it says so in the inerrant Bible, I back away.  When someone says that they know that God does not exist because he cannot be dreamt of in their philosophy, I pity them.
When someone says that the political philosophy they subscribe to is so certainly good that society should be re-ordered as they prescribe, I reach for my culture.

When someone says that they don't know, I'm right with them.
When someone says that they believe that they are right, but that they accept the possibility that they might be wrong, I tend to trust them.

I sing the praises of doubt. Thomas doubted, enquired, discerned the truth, and strengthened his faith.  Doubt strengthens the mind, promotes tolerance, seeks diversity, and fights fanaticism.

Question everything.

Unless, of course, I'm wrong.

Glenn's Book of Quotes Number Twenty-Six

". . . a wise and frugal government which shall restrain men from injuring one another, which shall leave them otherwise free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned. This is the sum of good government . . ." -- Thomas Jefferson, first inaugural address

From the very beginning, Americans have had a healthy distrust of power.  If that power is concentrated in the hands of the few, and if those few are insulated from the people, that distrust turns to outright hostility.  In 1801 the biggest, scariest power in the land was the still somewhat new federal government.  The Constitution, which created that government, was only twelve years old.  The Bill of Rights, which tempered its power, was only ten.  Would this new government usurp the power that rightly belonged to the people, or would it be a faithful steward of the power granted to it by the people?  


When policy is being debated today I often think of this quote.  Will this new action by our powerful government leave us more or less free to regulate our own pursuits?  Will they restrict or enhance the blessings of liberty? And is this proposed public good quite good enough to justify taking the bread which the people have earned?  


I'm not providing the answers on any particular questions.  I just think that the questions are worth considering.

Next Stop, Dunkin' Donuts

The folks that run our mass transit service, the MBTA, are considering the notion of selling naming rights to subway stations.  I love this idea.  For one thing, it's practical.  The service is, as the local papers like to say, "cash-strapped."  That just means that the quality of their work is diminished while the price is going up.  My monthly commuting bill just jumped by 15% but my daily ride doesn't get any better or more reliable.  Anything that could help pay the bills works for me, so I say lets get this program going.

I can't wait to hear that there are delays at JetBlue station.  Beyond that there are some real possibilities here.  Maybe we could get Febreze to sponsor North Station, just to see if they could find a way to deal with the the infamous North Station Stink.  We could see Boylston become Glass Slipper Gentleman's Club Station.  That would liven things up a bit.  Hynes Convention Center could become Heinz Ketchup Station.  Harvard Square could become The Gap, finally recognizing that the old Square is just a tarted up mall these days.  One stop down would be Supreme Liquors Station, formerly Central.  On the Blue Line you could ride out to Kelly's Roast Beef, or maybe just out to Aquarium, which would be re-named . . . Aquarium.  Or maybe Aquarium Gift Shop and Snack Bar Station.  Out in Allston we could stop at Blanchard's Liquors, since we're going there anyway.

This being Boston I can see some confusion likely to crop up.  In a system that already has two St. Paul and two Chestnut Hill stations, it might be a problem when we end up with seven Dunkin' Donuts stations.  But then, your average Bostonian is kind of used to that by now.  Driving directions around here are often like this:

Sully:  So how do you get there?

Kevin:  Real simple, you go past Dunkin's, take a left a the next Dunkin's, go past three Dunkin's and the Honey Dew.  Then you take a right at the Dunkin's.

Sully:  The one with the drive-thru?

Kevin:  No, the one next to the packie.

It's pretty much impossible to find your way around here now, so this will be just fine.  Wake me up when we start selling ad space on cruisers so the police can afford bullets.

Live Long and Prosper, America

I love this picture.  I love it so much.

How do I love this picture?  Let me count the ways, let me sing of my love.

It's Nichelle Nichols, our own Uhura, in the Oval Office, with the President of the United States!

Oh.  My.  God.

Okay, my little Trekkie heart can only take so much.  I'll try to calm down.

Things I love about this picture:

1.  It's the Oval Office.  What a great room, filled with power, symbolism, and history.

2.  Nichelle looks great.  79 years old, still a hottie, and I'll fight any man who says otherwise.

3.  She's wearing a Starfleet necklace.  To meet the President.  How cool is that?

4.  They're obviously happy to meet each other.  And why not?  After all,

5.  He has said that he's a fan of the show and . . .

6.  He had a crush on her when he was a younger fan.  No really!

Months ago Pres Obama was quoted as saying that he'd had a crush on me when he was younger. I asked about that & he proudly confirmed it!
— Nichelle Nichols (@RealNichelle) March 1, 2012

Well, of course he did.  What kind of red-blooded American Trekkie male didn't have a crush on Uhura?

7.  The Vulcan salute.  The President of the United States, giving the Vulcan salute, in the Oval Office.

8.  And this is the big one.  When Star Trek first aired it was in a different America.  It was in an America that had never seen an interracial kiss on it's television before Nichelle Nichols and Star Trek.  It was in an America where the sight of an African-American woman as an officer, an equal to other officers, a respected expert and leader, was unusual, and unusually important.  You may have heard the story.

And there you are.  From Star Trek to Martin Luther King, Jr., to this moment.  Take another look at that picture.  Do you see a bit of pride in Nichelle's smile?  You should.  After all, she opened the hailing frequencies.

Put 'em Up, Put 'em Up

This is Harold "Honeyboy" Hughes.  He was a relative of mine, on my mother's side.  A K.O. sensation among the featherweights, I see.  Family lore has it that he was fairly well known in upstate New York and Vermont, where he plied his trade in the 1930s.  Years after his death a mention of his name in that area would often find an old fight fan that remembered him fondly.  I've heard that some of the people who knew him best didn't have overwhelmingly positive memories of old Honeyboy.  He looks like he was a tough little fighter and I sure wouldn't want to have had to square off against him.

This poster is obviously aimed at the trade more than the fans, which is kind of interesting.  I love the language of the thing.  I especially love the list of "his battles."  A lot of Kids, along with Mickey, Frankie, Charlie, Willie, Tiger, and Joe.  But my favorite name is right at the top.  K.O. Bunny.

What a great fighter name!  K.O. Bunny.  Can you picture what this guy would look like?  Maybe a buffed up Bugs wearing trunks and a mean look?  And who would want to get knocked out by a guy named K.O. Bunny?  I mean the K.O. part, sure, but the Bunny?  Who would admit to getting knocked out by a Bunny?

It's times like this I wish I could draw.  I'd love to come up with an image for K.O. Bunny.  Man.  And I wonder what the Honeyboy-Bunny fight was like.

One of these days I'll have to make up a story about that.  For now, you just need to know that Honeyboy Hughes is a fighter.  He is not an alibi artist.  And don't you forget it.

Be It Resolved

A little late, I know, but despite that I have no resolutions regarding procrastination.  Without further ado, here are my resolutions for this new year of our Lord, two thousand twelve.

1.  I resolve to become obese.  I know that sounds odd, but technically obese would be a significant improvement.  Onward to obesity!

2.  I resolve to write more.

3.  I resolve to finish more writing projects.

4.  I resolve to read more.

5.  I resolve to take more and longer walks.

6.  I resolve to reduce the number of pills that I have to take.  You'd be surprised at the size and complexity of my little home pharmacy.

7.  I resolve to be more of the me that I would rather be.

8.  The über resolution -- I resolve to succeed.  Which is the point of all these things anyway.  That one word -- Success -- is the real American Dream.  Striving to succeed, however we define it, however we imagine it, is what we're all here for.  It is our inalienable right, so we might as well dream big.

Crystal Ball and Tea Leaves

It's that time of year again.  Actually, it's a little late, but I'm having a tough time getting things going lately, so that's just too bad, isn't it?  Anyway, it's time for our annual predictions for the new year!  You'll probably want to make note of these, as you could use this foreknowledge to your advantage.  And remember, "we are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives."

In the world of literature, a book that has the words "wind" and "keyhole" will be on the New York Times bestseller list.

Mitt Romney will win the presidential election.  He will immediately be awarded a Nobel Prize in economics.

The "God Particle" will not be found, disproving the existence of Peter Higgs.

Investigative journalists, working behind the scenes at the Olympics, will discover that London no longer exists and has been replaced by a theme park of the same name.

The Patriots will win the Super Bowl (I predict this every year).

The following people will be irrelevant in 2012:  Tiger Woods, Kate Gosselin, Rick Santorum, and Oprah Winfrey.

The United States will continue to blow up people and things in other countries and will increase the number of places where our troops are stationed.

Elements of the Tea Party and the Occupy Movement will merge to form a new movement that opposes big government and big business.  They will be immediately and brutally crushed by Pinkerton agents.

That is all!  Further revelations would only serve to confuse and frighten you.  Ask me no more.

No more!

Someday You'll Find It

Because of the time sucking scourge of the Christmas season I haven't been to the movies in a while, but as soon as the dreadful event was finally over I took myself to the bijou to see The Muppets. And since this is the latest of all late reviews, you probably know that the Muppets are back, baby, and they are good.

This version has everything you want in a Muppet movie: sly self-knowledge that breaks the puppety proscenium, clever little inside jokes that tickle old fans, humor that only an educated grown-up could love as well as lowbrow, kid-friendly fart jokes (oh, how I've missed you my dear Fozzie Bear), toe-tapping, heart-tugging songs, celebrity cameos, good versus evil, hope, love, togetherness, and redemption.

Yeah, that seems a lot from a pile of felt, but that's what always made the Muppets so special. They made you believe in all that stuff.

It's been a few years since the Muppets were anything but a corporate trademark. I didn't think there was anybody in Hollywood who could re-capture that magic. But then I had never heard of Jason Segal. Shame on me. This guy seems to have brought our heroes back to life almost as a singular act of will and belief. Which is, essentially, the plot of the movie. The Muppets have to get back together, after all these years, believe in themselves again, and put on one more big show or they'll lose everything to the latest silly bad-guy, a rich man who is so aware of his role as the villain he sometimes orders his henchmen to back him up on maniacal laughs.

The story involves Segal, as Gary, and his brother Walter. Walter just happens to be made out of felt and is a huge fan of the Muppets. I think you can see where this is going. Anyway, the gang gets back together, a show is made, there are some original songs, including “Am I a Man or Am I a Muppet,” which includes the best celebrity cameo in all of muppetdom, and that's saying a lot. There are some good old songs, including my favorite, “Rainbow Connection,” done as a duet with Kermit and Piggy. Now I'm not Miss Piggy's biggest fan, but she's handled so well here that I found both the duet and the romance to be genuinely touching (but then I'm something of a sap).

So, bottom line here. If you are a fan of the old Muppet Show and the old Muppet Movie and were touched by the magic then, you really should see this. And take a kid, if you have one to take. They'll like it too.

Pearl Plus 70

A message from the past.  This is what we used to call leadership.

Mr. Vice President, Mr. Speaker, Members of the Senate, and of the House of Representatives:

Yesterday, December 7th, 1941 -- a date which will live in infamy -- the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.

Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. And while this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or of armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong. Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.

And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday and today speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As commander in chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense. But always will our whole nation remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe that I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make it very certain that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory, and our interests are in grave danger.

With confidence in our armed forces, with the unbounding determination of our people, we will gain the inevitable triumph -- so help us God.

I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.

Fragile

Last week I had something called an electrocardiogram. It wasn't too bad. First of all, a nice young lady smeared me with lube and probed me. That alone would have made it a good day. Then I got to see live video of my heart beating. Now that was really something.

It took a while, as she had to get pictures of the old pump from several angles, showing all the valves and chambers, and seeing how the blood moved. It was fun to see. But the one shot that really got my attention was a good look at one of those valves.

It's not a big deal. You've surely seen something like it on TV or in a biology class. Just a little flap of flesh, flicking up and down, opening and closing a passage, moving blood out of one space and into another. Flick, flick, flick, this tiny little flap of flesh. Over and over, right on schedule, unchanging, on and on.

Until it doesn't. That's what I kept thinking about, watching that little flap of flesh. It's one of those little things in our bodies that we are never really aware of, those small working parts that flick a tiny fraction of an inch, or release a certain chemical just when it's needed, or do a thousand little things that they do day after day. Until they don't. Because we are delicate things. We imagine ourselves to be strong or tough or even big, but we are not. We are made up of little, bitty, breakable things, only as strong as the weakest bit, and vulnerable in ways we dare not imagine.

I'm not sure what to think of this. On the one hand it did drive home the idea that I ought to take care of myself. There's no point adding any burdens to those little bits, no use throwing off the delicate chemical balance that a lot of those aging components need to keep working. On the other hand, I know that at any moment, no matter what I do or don't do, that little bit of flesh, flicking away moment by moment, could just stop flicking. Then all this stuff, the good, bad, mad, and miserable, would just stop.

And I wonder, what am I doing with the heartbeats that I do have? I don't have time to ask what I have done with my past heartbeats. It's the heartbeats of today that I must tend to. Am I enjoying the little moments that life offers, or am I letting comparatively insignificant things darken those moments between the beats? When musician Warren Zevon was near the end of his life, he was asked what he had learned. “Enjoy every sandwich,” was his advice. Enjoy every one of those little moments life gives you. They are, after all, finite.

Ideally, life should be spent following bliss, pursuing dreams, and finding joy in the moment. But we don't live in an ideal world. There is fear, pain, tragedy, and challenge. Sometimes in pushing against these and overcoming them we find our greatest satisfaction, but they are always there, our lifelong burdens. I'd just hate to hit that last flick of life and realize that I've been dwelling on pain rather than living in joy. I think I'd rather go out chasing rainbows than hiding from storm-clouds.

Meanwhile, one fluttering little bit of me keeps on moving, to and fro, giving me moments.

Partial Perspective Vortex

Not too long ago I was playing around with the Google Sky Map app on my phone (a valid reason to get a smart phone in itself), looking at where the stars would be if I didn't live in light pollution land.  I noticed a little spot called "Hubble Ultra Deep Field."  I had heard about this.  It's a spot in space where scientists had aimed the big telescope and looked farther in space and time then anyone had ever looked before.  It got me thinking, and it got me looking around, and eventually I bumped into this video:



This is a couple of years old, so you've probably seen it already.  It's just that it is a little tiny bit mind blowing and at the moment it is as close as we're going to come to Douglas Adams's Total Perspective Vortex.  So, if you haven't seen it already, and you'd like a glimpse of just how tiny we are compared to the vastness of the cosmos, give it a click.

They Called It Pope's Night

I like the way Boston celebrated the Fifth of November back in the 18th century. Rival gangs would make effigies of the pope, parade them around town, and beat the ever living crap out of each other. Fatalities were not uncommon. Then the group with the fewest injuries would set their pope ablaze. Ah, good times in the Athens of America.