Realizing the Event Horizon

Don't judge a hole by its color. Historically, the sight of a crow heckling a large hawk causes me to avert my eyes. The outcome is predictable, severe, and does little to improve my already cynical worldview. This morning's episode, however, was different in one very important way: I had a realization. This is how I was able to connect the dots.

I saw that the connectivity of dots is hampered by their straightforward appearance, leading to the realization that coaxing them out of their hide-in-plain-sight surroundings and onto a sheet of carbon paper is the best way to observe their habits. This led to the conviction that too many dots spoil the graph, but it didn't matter because I had already arrived at my realization, which isn't the sort of thing that needs to be done twice.

If asked, I would simply indicate that the murder of crows is no longer my responsibility. If asked again, I would simply indicate that, yes, they do grow on trees. The third time, I would simply point to the nearest black hole, which is exactly like a hawk, only without the feathers. Superior encephalization quotient or not, crows should know that by now.


Nothing Doing

Don't do nothing. When I act as if nothing has happened, I'm setting the stage for a play on words. In theory, the act of doing nothing is less an act than the stubborn refusal to stand and deliver, but not everyone is good at thinking on their feet. In practice, talk is cheap, which is just one more reason to memorize the script before the fruit flies.

When actions speak louder than words, we immediately understand that something hasn't been properly lubricated. If joints could speak, they would ask for silencing gel, or a ride to the muffler shop. If joints could sing, they wouldn't have to spend their lives gazing into the wishing well of popular culture, where everyone is a star, or will be, or was.

Are we not stardust? Yes, and the fruit fly is stardust, too.



360 degrees of freedom, plus or minus.

Turtles dawdle when they walk
Shambhala shells along for the ride
But when they go sailing!
Their shells are unfurled
A pirouette of possibilities
Horizon's blue axis
Afloat on the waves.