Turtles can breathe through their butts. That's not precisely true. But when you read the reason for that rumor, it boils down to this: Turtles can breathe through their butts.
Only female mosquitoes can bite. Am I a misogynist if I say that makes perfect sense?
When elephants talk to each other, they call each other by their names. Might indicate abstract thought. Proven through AI. Now all that we need to do is prove that artificial intelligence is, in fact, intelligent.
Slugs have four noses. Crocodiles can't stick out their tongues. I've got a million of 'em.
WILLIE, MICKEY & "THE DUKE"
I write subsequent to the recent death of Willie Mays, the last survivor of the great New York trio of center fielders.
I was born in 1948 into the New York City television market. The first television baseball broadcast had occurred 10 years earlier. (True. You could look it up.) Finally having integrated, the best baseball players in the country had just begun playing against each other. And the best baseball teams were in New York. The New York Yankees. The New York Giants. The Brooklyn Dodgers. And the games were broadcast for free. All you needed was an antenna and a set and you could sit in your living room and watch the best teams in both leagues at play. Two leagues. No divisions. Win the American League or the National League pennant and you went to the World Series. And the World Series was broadcast for free, too.
Starting in 1949, the next year that a World Series was played without either the Yankees, the Giants or the Dodgers participating was all the way up to 1967. (Yes. My Dodgers had moved to LA. But they were still the Dodgers.) The three center fielders for those teams for much of that time provided the engine for that success. Willie Mays. Mickey Mantle. Duke Snider. All in the Hall of Fame. Three of the greatest players to play the game. (Duke often gets short shrift compared to Willie and Mickey and, to be certain, their career numbers in just about every category were superior to The Duke's. But I am a Dodger fan. And in his best four years in the 1950s, Duke led them all, averaging 42 home runs, 124 RBI, 123 runs, and a .320 batting average.)
If you are a baseball fan, go to YouTube and search for a song called Willie, Mickey & The Duke.
OUR DYSTOPIAN FUTURE
A continuing theme of science fiction, past and present, is the idea of a dystopian future, the idea that an idyllic society characterized by the equitable (but not necessarily equal) distribution of plentiful resources to improve the lives of everyone on Earth is just a pipe dream. Instead, we are doomed to deal with climate change, resource depletion and a restless, lawless and permanent underclass.
I fear that sci-fi is too often predictive, particularly as it relates to our health. Flu. Bird Flu. Mad Cow. MRSA. COVID. We are getting to the point when everyone will be a little bit sick, all of the time. A sniffle here. A cough there. A rash that won't go away. And because we all have ready access to antibiotics, both from the medicines that we take and from the foods that we eat, the bugs are evolving to be stronger and more resistant. The new national anthem will be the song by The Police: Don't Stand So Close To Me.
And just to make you feel even worse, a Delta flight recently had to turn back when passengers were served rotten food. Dozens of staffers of TikTok's parent company in Singapore got food poisoning in their cafeteria. And 7 tons of deli meat were just recalled due to possible listeria contamination. 7 tons...
MINNESOTA GOVERNOR TIM WALZ
A thorough discussion of his candidacy and the attacks against him deserve a separate post. Tune in next week.
DIONYSIUS AND THE LAST SUPPER
The idea that the French were mocking daVinci's painted rendition of the Last Supper during the opening of the Olympics is simply ludicrous. The secular French couldn't possibly care enough about Catholic symbols to spend time, energy and money mocking them. The French are, however, perfectly capable of venerating depictions of a god of wine and pleasure, two topics that Catholic clergy spend too much time venerating themselves.
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