Another birthday... interesting to consider that each birthday is statistically less important than the one before... that is, the passing year as a percentage of one's total life... on the bright side, although birthdays become less significant with each year, the difference becomes more minimal as you go...

Take that as you will.  But come in, please.   So sorry to have kept you waiting.   I've been traveling, you see, to the most bizarre places... Cartagena, Disneyworld...   Yes, yes, the corner table, of course.  Please, sit down.   What can I get you to drink?  Absinthe, you say?   Well, well.  We must be looking for trouble today.

As some of you know, I've been doing a series of articles for the Beachside Resident.   Last month I decided to write about dolphins, who I've been studying over the past few years... a pod of them live in my backyard.  I've noticed they always arrive at the most opportune times, and they seem to be communicating with me, silently, almost telepathically.

So it was something of a piece d'amour for me.  I was quite proud of it, actually... although when I read it on the website, I got a bit itchy because some of the phrases were changed by the editor (some for the better, some for the worse), but I was mostly pleased with the whole thing. Then I read the comment on the page.

Apparently, one of the foremost experts on the study of dolphin intelligence (Dr. Lori Marino... no relation to Dan), was 'compelled' to write a response to my story.   It was a scathing rebuttal, a bit of high-grounded bolt throwing if you ask me, but some of the points were relevant, I suppose.  Nonetheless, I was honored to receive such a comment, and I responded in kind.

Here's the article (and comments) if you're interested: Dolphins

Oh, and here comes the little one with the menu.

la carte du jour

chilled oysters on the half shell
pinot grigio - Ca'Montini L'aristocratico, Trentino-Alto Adige, 2006

Doctor Truth says that we are 'celebrating imagination' tonight, so you can't eat too much.  I might have added a main course, but I suppose the oysters and pinot will be crisp and cold and fine enough indeed.

Doctor Truth also wishes to add that 'science fiction is taking over science.'   It's the idea that these so-called expert scientists are at a loss when pitted against those with more imagination.  Dr. Truth also would like to mention that in 1943, Arthur C. Clarke invented the satellite.

The rest, he says, is just technical stuff.

My first thought was that science is the lifeblood of science fiction... but I suppose this is like saying that Christ is the lifeblood of the Catholic Church... which reminds me of a picture I took at my friend Juan's wedding, which, I must say was a grand and glorious, hot-blooded, swirling, pounding, drumming, Columbian sweating jounce of a time, with much beauty and flowing energy and peace all around...

As you can see, the podium is at the bottom of the picture, then the Christ figure above that, propped up against a blazing sun, and above him you will see someone who appears to be an archbishop, or maybe the Pope.   If you were actually in the church, you could continue the upward progression and look above this figure, where you would see heavy wooden rafters, and upon the beams in the ceiling directly overhead, small white shields emblazoned with the word, D I U S.

Doctor Truth couldn't help but notice the irony... a mere word being the highest visual point in the church.  I told him that above the word there were pigeon nests, and he felt somewhat more comfortable about that.

No time to discuss politics today... suffice to say we've got high hopes over here...

You'll notice the sun is setting later now, and we've got plenty of time to sit here this afternoon.  In fact, I might stay open late tonight.  I can even pour you another absinthe...


  1. Happy Birthday my friend, whoever you are. Your stimulus of the mind is greater than this Administration can ever offer. Dr. Marino needs to go to Kings Dominion and loosen up a little. Peace.

  2. Ooh, the absinthe is tickling me nose... now all I need is a cafe au lait