Common Sense? Civility? Compassion? Crap

What a world. When a young man, I conducted serious conversations by mail.* Old USPS mail. Not “E” mail. A normal, lucky conversation span was send a letter on Tuesday, hope a local person gets it by Wednesday, hope they respond by Thursday, mail it on Friday, and I get an answer by Monday. When I used the phone, someone at the receiving location had to hear the landline ring before any conversation started and several tries had to be made before someone was near enough to answer. Even then, a father or mother might not have gotten the correct message to the son or daughter because of forgetfulness or old-fashioned parental caution. An aged parent or grandparent was always a crapshoot, especially if they asked you to repeat words.

These days a text, call, or email gets from my Personal Communicating Device (PCD), either a tablet, watch, laptop, or phone (TWLP pronounced twelp), gets to the receiving PCD, instantly*.

In all cases, however, the receiving party of any mode of communication has the power and the right to respond any time they want and in any way they want. Mailed letters were often responded to by a landline phone call with the accompanying requirement of me or another human being near enough to be an “answerer”. Thank God for answering machines, though they did add another level of doubt about the accurate receipt of the message by the intended. New, modern TWLP communications can also be responded to by the receiver in the way the receiver chooses, unless specific instructions say otherwise.

Modern or Old Fashioned, there is/was always an implied contract about what was required by both sender and receiver. Sidebar: In management schools and marriage counseling sessions, I learned about The Black Box (TBB) in the middle of all normal, human communications. Speaker A says “X” into TBB but there is no guarantee Receiver B hears “X” coming out of TBB.

Understanding TBB is the main impetus for the terms of the contract: the original sender is expecting an answer from the original receiver, unless otherwise clearly stated or dubiously implied. Note: subsequent communications can be outside the contract. especially if a responder enjoys sending insipid, repetitive texts.

“Ghosting,” per Google, “is when someone suddenly stops all communication and ignores all further attempts to connect without giving warning or explanation.” Ghosting has infected communications since we started talking to each other, and was easier—and unnamed–in the old days. Mail “didn’t get to me” or “I didn’t hear the phone ring” were rude, but still possibly innocent explanations for missed messages, especially given the time frame. Theoretically, a mailed letter or phone call could even be forgotten by the sender, himself**, without noting the lack of any response if enough time elapsed.

So what’s the harm in ignoring a received communication?

I’ll tell you. Forget about the “contract”, and think about the sender. It is a civic and societal duty to respond, period. It is also compassionate to respond, especially in romantic—or potentially romantic—situations. Especially if you are the “dumper” in a relationship and the “dumpee” is ignorant of his/her/their “mistakes”. The internet is full of stories about partners and spouses ghosting each other with dramatic and sometimes mortal consequences.

Common sense: communication can stop the drama.*** We won’t mention the Golden Rule, but imagine if every relationship had a breakup clause concerning implied communications based on the Golden Rule. And everyone obeyed the clause.

To all ghosters: how would you feel if you were the ghostee and someone did it to you?

You’d feel like crap. Please feel that when you ghost, too. Or worse.

*Indicators and notifications say so on my TWLP.

**Or herself. Or themselves.

***The sad thing about rules concerning society and common sense, is the number of odd humans who have no regard for either. If your partner or spouse is “out there”, all “contracts” are voided. But do NOT abuse this exception.

Science: Who Needs It

Hormones. Atoms. Quarks. Neurons. Glia. Synapses. Epochs. Eras. Fossils. Quantum Entanglement. Paleozoic.

The list of science-related words probably never ends. When science gets near the end of the current list, they make up new words. Like muons, bosons, ganglia, and Superposition. And a compound personal favorite: Inherent Uncertainty (IU). Hm. Inherent Uncertainty seems the perfect description for the scientific process since once we learn as much as we can in 1996, we then learn more in 2006, and learn more in 2016 and even more in 2026. And, often times what we learn in 2016 might change or contradict what we learned in 2006. If we’re smart enough to notice, science never reaches The End of anything, like it’s an infinity Russian Nesting Doll. IU, right?

Nope. IU is not a commonsense description of the history of science research but a convoluted description of the strange world of Quantum Mechanics (QM), the enclave of Quantum Entanglement (QE) and “sub-atomic” particles like the aforementioned muons, quarks, and God knows (right?) what else. BTW*, the real scientific IU is from the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle (HUP) which states “you cannot simultaneously know both the precise position and exact momentum of a quantum particle.”**

That sounds like much of what modern science has become: the harder we look the more we learn about how much we really might not know, at this particular time. It also sounds like science is a ladder of learning, with each new discovery not really changing the past, but adding to it, making it bigger, brighter, smarter. Like building a home from the ground up by adding rows and rows of bricks until you get…where?

The idea that the discovery of new facts in 2026 may change the facts of 2006 is used by some as proof science has no idea what it is doing. The fevered and firmly believed opinion by some, then, is that science is useless and should not be depended on for solutions to life and society’s problems.

Stop a second and wonder if science doubters might not be right. Remember when protons, electrons, and neutrons were the “building blocks of nature”? I can still see the cute little models on Mrs. Timian’s desk just before our practice nuclear bomb safety drills.

I can’t say with certainty science is always right. I cannot even say it with Inherent Uncertainty, either. But…what else is there? If you want an internal combustion car to drive you around the world, where do you start to build it? Your own guesses and hunches? Your friends?*** Oddly enough, whatn school were the caveman scientists from who learned how to barbecue animal flesh? Or engineer arrow heads. I see a bunch of cavemen hunched over a rock, studying a chalk drawing on how to assemble a bow for the arrows. Ad, yes, maybe a cavewoman or two. Grunts, galore.

Warning: If you hear and read about science****, you could end up with applesauce for brains, or talk in mnemonics, a language spoken by The Select Few (TSF).

But there is hope, out there, in areas of study far, far away: There is a God’s Particle, The Higgs boson. It really exists and was found in 2014 in experiments at CERN, and The Large Hadron Collider. Please, Google it and learn more about what we know on this date, September 28, 2026.

And then try to keep up.

*With only 26 letters in the alphabet, will we run out of abbreviations and be forced to add a number: QE2, for example. Wait, isn’t that a ship?

**Per Google Ai. And why the hell not? And who wants to know, anyway?

***This kind of sounds like the premise of some a chaotic movie: “Let’s try this! It will be fun!”

****With out being a scientist.

What Can We Do?

The world is—and always has been—a crazy place. In 1970, for instance, when the world was going to end, I considered The Peace Corps and other similar agencies for a career where I could fix all the world’s problems. But nothing happened.  The intense mix of problems and where to start fixing them was too big, too hard. Since I was young and immature, my non-decision was it was too hard to do anything at all. I hopped on my motorcycle and took off, looking for drugs, sex, and rock and roll* to cover-up the disillusionment, and my failure to address it.

That same d-word is being used a lot, these days, so here are some things to help you cover it up.

Give blood. I won’t explain it here, but command you to download the Red Cross Blood Donor App and research it for yourself. This is the minimum you can do without effort. Go lay down, drip blood into a bag, grab a free snack, and go home. Just do it, with apologies to you-know-who for the phrase. If you’re afraid of needles, get over it, you wuss. Imagine the poor, unfortunate, dying patient your blood may help and stop being so self-centered. It isn’t about you. Wuss.

Don’t believe everything you read on the internet. I know, it’s hard to get real news then, right? Hard to be informed. But this is a math problem. Right now 60 percent of the internet is fake, wrong, or intended to fool you. Do you know the difference? No. Don’t say you do.

Don’t have an opinion. Opinion has been part of life for all my 74 years so…my opinion is don’t have an opinion. If we don’t know the truth about anything, why are we so sure about anything? Public discourse is littered with opinions from people who—after questioning—can’t say where, who, or what they learned their opinion from.** It’s mainly a MAGA/Republican thing, but Democrats have caught on and are rapidly ramping up to do the same thing: manipulate the public. Us. Forget who is doing it and just keep this thought in mind every time you read anything: What are they*** trying to do to me, now. It’s not a question but a statement.

Finally, take pride in being who you are and doing what you can do. Buying a fuel efficient car. Turning off lights. Saving water. Rescuing pets. Helping a friend, neighbor, stranger feel better about life, or just help them get in a doorway or up a flight of stairs. Stop being an ignorant consumer, how many pairs of shoes do you need? Look for God everywhere and don’t be ashamed to admit it.****

Crap, I need another “finally”: you are the master of your domain. If you’re unhappy, depressed, or disillusioned, it sometimes requires an internal examination and adjustment. It’s not always the big, bad world’s fault.

And if none of this helps, talk to someone. There are lots of good therapists and counselors waiting for your call. Find a living, breathing, caring human who will listen and remind you what really matters: you get one chance at life. Don’t let the world try to prevent you from giving it your best shot.

*Not really. Just an apt phrase for the time. Sex, yes, but no drugs and one certainly didn’t have to look for “rock and roll” in the 70s. It was blaring from every car, transistor radio, and Ed Sullivan Show. Don’t bother googling.

**Yep. That is a preposition and that is the end of the sentence. I could easily have rewritten the entire sentence but I don’t want TO. Shoot me.

***”They” is anyone with an interest in getting us and others like us (?) to believe and behave a certain way. Watch sports opinion shows for non-political examples. You’ll gag.

****This has nothing to do with religion. I should use a lower case “g” for God, but have respect for Them all, so upper case it is.

QE to the Rescue?

You all* must be leery of my adolescent crush on Quantum Entanglement (QE). Generally—and innocently—speaking, science has the power to fix everything in the world and make us all happy. Unfortunately, money and greed, the two driving components of a Capitalist Society, may take over and ruin things. We will have a chance to see that first hand with QE, soon. Will QE survive monetization? Or will the Jokers use it to take over the world? Tune in next week to the same Bat time, same Bat channel.**

Here is a QE refresher article titled  “Physicists help uncover ‘spooky’ quantum effect in the Large Hadron Collider” from the website physics.org, by The University of Oxford dated  September 14, 2026:

“Entanglement is the phenomenon in which two particles from the same origin remain connected, even if they move far apart in time and space. If something affects one particle, it will also affect all the particles with which it is entangled. This means that measuring a property of one particle instantly tells you something about its entangled partners, no matter how distant they are. Albert Einstein famously called entanglement “spooky action at a distance,” and the phenomenon has been demonstrated in a range of systems, including photons, electrons and trapped ions.”

FYI, is it just me or is this what some identical twins claim happens to them, even if separated at birth?

Three days later an article titled “Quantum teleportation is poised to change the world” was published in Physical Review Letters*** declaring “It sounds like science fiction – that the quantum state of one system can be transferred, or ‘teleported’, to another system a great distance away at close to the speed of light.”

Yeah. It does sound like fiction, doesn’t it? But QE experiments in China have measured the phenomenon at 1,000 miles, so far. Another American Lab has even used QE to actually transport a pixelated picture from one lab to another lab instantly.

Wow, holy crap, yippee, and uh-oh at the same time? Sure. Imagine transporting human organs for transplant, for example. No need for refrigerated carriers, send that heart by QE. Now. And want to vacation in Spain but only have a few days? QE it. Or get to the beach right after work. And you could sleep so much longer in the morning without a commute to your job…which could be anywhere in the world!

As excited as I am about QE, the reality may be much less personal and positive. Imagine our militaries taking over QE for defense purposes. Military minds must already be agog at the idea of getting personnel and equipment to a battle site at the speed of light. They must be salivating at the possibility of moving a 70 ton armored tank from Fort Drum in NY state to Tehran, Iran in less than one second. Or resupplying an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean with the touch of a QE button.

QE may never be able to do any of the things described in this essay, but what if it can?

You gotta love Science and its under-appreciated step-cousin, Science Fiction. They create a beautiful thing when they work together: They create Hope.

And you don’t need QE to send that anywhere the world.

*If I was still in North Carolina it would be “y’all”.

**It’s a 1960’s thing. Google it if you care to learn some useless shite.

***Disclaimer on Physical Review website: ScienceAlert stories are written, fact-checked, and edited by humans, never generated by AI. Has Ai gotten do bad we need warnings about it?

Why? Because.

After writing the last essay, I overheard a RadioLab podcast about the world’s population.

That essay’s lamely supported assertion about not much changing in the world suddenly became a lame, unsupported truth: massive changes are already underway and will forever change the world.

Don’t puff your chest out and think you knew all along climate change would be the major problem because it’s not. At least not yet. The “other” problem is already changing things in parts of the world and soon, its full effect will be felt in America.

The real, immediate problem: Population Growth. Specifically, the lack of population growth. In the late 1900’s, population growth was exponential and hit 3.7 billion in 1970. Experts labeled the high level of growth a “Population Bomb”. It threatened to outpace societies, systems, and the earth’s ability to supply food. My own personal world views are often shaped by the concept of constant growth since more people means more financial expansion, more building, more manufacturing, and a large population needing a centralized government for health, safety, and happiness. I often called America a big, stable, seaworthy ship capable of floating and lasting for centuries.

There are many different data points that could be mashed-up in this essay. Some sites, for example, “estimate” population growth to continue and we are already over 8.3 billion. With immigration and emigration issues, the total population figures can confuse population comparisons, but simply comparing birth to deaths tells the story we’re discussing. Checking births versus deaths reveals America’s changing growth rates. In 1960 there were 4.2 million births and 2.43 million deaths. Do the math. In 2026 there were 3.60 million births and 3.10 million deaths. Births declined while the general population increased.* 2027 figures may show more deaths than births!

Notably, China and other Asian countries responded to the 1972 Population Bomb by severely restricting new births in their societies. All those countries have recently reversed those restrictions and put in place new programs to generate more births.

America is already seeing the results of a population that may be “downsizing”. When Social Security began paying Old Age benefits in 1940, the system used taxes from over 150 younger workers to support a payment to one, old retiree. Our current 2026 system is using three (3!) younger workers. Is the difference caused by inflation or population loss or something else?

 Another problem is the “Population Bomb” caused the building of new schools to handle the new students. Due to America’s fragmented public and private school systems, getting accurate data is a crap shoot, but there is a consensus among the experts that grades 9-12 have had steady enrollment for the last 20 years, but total pre-school, elementary, and middle school enrollments appear to be declining. There are 3 closed schools in my town, right now.

The South Korea Ministry of Education, for comparison, has closed “4,000 schools and 17 regional offices” as the country’s student population shrinks.”**

America’s consumer driven, capitalist economy depends on new workers who become new consumers and generate regular growth in economic activity. *** So do other counties, even Socialist and Communist based countries.

Looks like regular growth is over. What will happen?

Ha. What do I care? I’m outta here, and–for the sake of my grandchildren–I hope someone in power notices this essay.

But first: Economists have predicted 10 out of the last two recessions. Ba dum dum.****

*The website, “Worldometer.com” shows a consistent 1-3% growth in the world’s population since 1972. Since 2020, that growth rate has never been more than 0.88% and has been declining every one of those 7 recent years. And that is with high levels of immigration.

**The Korea Times, December 28, 2025.

***An important complication in our current immigration crisis. We need workers.

****Am I aging myself by continuing to use the old “rim shot” comedy signal?

Why?

There is never any shortage of subjects to write about. Or talk about. The world today is ludicrously different from the world of my younger years, but the amount and scope of problems are about the same.

In the 1960s*, the war, civil rights, women’s right, climate change (yes, way back then), voting rights, tree-hugging, love, sex, algebra, the Exquisite No Bra, the end of The Bullet Bra, there was just so much to worry about that old people often warned me the end of civilization was near.**

With the young deaths from The War, the riots in the cities, and an older generation intend on making my cohorts and I toe the “shorthaircutcleanface” regimen from the 1950s, it did seem like The End was near. My father personally offered to end my world if I did not get my haircut.

Ah, good times. One good thing about my father is he loved bars/taverns. If we were with him, we loved them, too, especially the patrons who felt it was the right time for me and my brother to learn the evils of alcohol. And pickled eggs.

Flash forward to the present and what are we worried about? The End, still. Our Democracy is threatened, again, our natural world is at peril, still, and our capacity for destroying each other has increased. We can kill people from afar with effortless ease and without the time-worn threat of nuclear involvement. Through Ai, we can even wipe ourselves out with a “fox in the henhouse” attitude that seems to enjoy the eggs without regard for how long they may last.***

And we can instantly tell someone they are a butthead from long distance. We can even put it in writing so the butthead can review it at his/her/their leasure. ****

Soon, the magic of Quantum Entanglement might make it possible to insult the butthead face to face and beam back home before they understand what butthead means.

Here begins an age-old problem. This essay was started with the best to intentions and clearest of “point to be made”. But you can tell by the footnotes my brain has taken the nearest exit from the constructive, intelligent speed of the super highway to the slow-paced, drowsiness of memory lane. A cogent, pithy, well-thought-out essay is now as extinct as a pterodactyl. (Why can’t you hear a pterodactyl go to the bathroom? The “p” is silent.)

What do you call a person who can’t fart in public? A private tutor. Hope you don’t have to think about that one.

Or anything else. The World is The World and it has been for billions of years. Can we do anything to change it? Or course we can, look at history.

But can we do anything to change it and make it better? More livable for all? Happier for at least The Majority? Even if we change the world for the better how long will we be able to enjoy it?

Meh. Let’s say not long, and believe there is life after death, a better life, a fuller, life, an easier life with no Ends to worry about.

There was an advertisement for a self-help book “How to Solve 50 Per Cent of Your Problems”.

Ever the optimist, I bought two.

Full disclosure, if I ever write a joke of my own I will make sure you know it.

*Conveniently forgetting pre-1960 years of farming, using a baseball bat with the wrong grip, trying to shoot snakes with a cap gun, building snow forts in snowbanks as the plows were still running, and—you get the point: stupid kid.

**Apologies for mentioning the bra controversies but it was puberty and my mother bought all my clothes from the Sears Catalogue, so fashion (ahem) intrigued me.

***Pardon me for kind of enjoying this symbolism/metaphor/mini allegory.

****Yes, I do do this. Do do. Ha.

What To Say, What To Do

What in the hell* is happening to the world? Excuse me while I sputter and mumble and collect my thoughts.

DJT has renamed another geographic entity. Apple and Google both said they immediately adjusted their maps to record the executive order. My google maps used both names with Lake America from a distance and Lake Ontario when I zoomed in. But the dual names lasted only 30 seconds before Lake Ontario disappeared. For good. What in the hell? FYI: we still have the Gulf of America.

Is there a Trump supporter reading this who can explain Trump’s need to rename everything? Is he marking his territory? And how much do these name changes cost? And how much will it cost to change them back? And who pays???

Bah humbug. Let’s ignore DJT and move on to better things.

I’ve complained about drivers not using turn signals, but it might be me that is in the wrong. As an older American who tries to ignore news, I’m wondering if our traffic departments have announced a new way of signaling turns. Maybe an executive order from someone? The new way I’ve seen many times today is to signal a right hand turn by getting as far left in the road as possible. And to make a left hand turn, get as far to the right as possible. Who says an old dog can’t learn a new trick. I have adopted the new system enthusiastically. ***

The memory supplement ads are interesting. Wonder how many watchers tell themselves “Hey, I need that stuff” and then forget to get it when they’re out shopping.

There was finally an ad for one of my diseases.** A gray-haired photographer says he was going blind until he started taking the drug in question. Now he’s back behind his camera taking pictures…and smiling.

With much of America in a bad mood maybe we should all take any drug advertised on television and start smiling. There’s an evil soft drink commercial where young people do nothing but smile and laugh as they hold bottles of soda upright, with the labels facing the camera.

The truth is finally making it into advertising, at least for Airline ads. I wasn’t going anywhere, but was curious about current airline fares. 30 minutes after I emptied my online cart and logged off a certain airline’s website, I got a TEXT: buy your tickets now before dynamic model pricing raises the fare! I’ve paraphrased because the text disappeared. Google Dynamic Model Pricing if you haven’t read my previous essays about it.

Under the Are They Listening To What They Say, heading: The current administration has “Special Envoys” flying all over the world to broker peace in some of the areas engaging in war-like activities, some of which have been going on for years. There may even be a Board of Peace meeting somewhere. A reporter had the chance to ask one of the “Special Envoys” about the success of the Special Envoys, since there are active hostilities in Ukraine, Gaza, Iran, The West Bank, Lebanon, Yemen, and The Congo. According to the Uppsala Conflict Data Program (UCPDA) “there are 65 active armed conflicts involving states, which is the highest recorded count since 1946.”

In response to the reporter’s questions one Special Envoy said they are “working hard” for peace per the instructions of President Trump, and “I can’t guarantee success, but…we are going to do everything we can…to try and make progress.”****

One of the Special Envoys has been working hard for peace since 2024. An additional Special Envoy joined the team in January 2026.

An old Trump-supporting friend of mine argued there would be no wars under Trump. “He ends wars, unlike Obama and Bush.” There might be a Nobel Peace Prize in there somewhere.

Enough. It’s time to take a nap and stop thinking.

*Per Google: ”’What in the hell’” is a rhetorical question expressing extreme confusion, surprise, or anger. The word hell has been used as an emotional intensifier…for centuries.”

**To paraphrase Will Farrell in the movie Elf: “I know that one!”

***Text book example of passive-aggressive language.

****The entire, complete quote is available online. It has been edited here, for brevity, not to change meaning or context.

Do You Ever Wonder…

What would it be like to be very rich? Obscenely rich? When I dream about it, it lasts two minutes before the impossibility of it shuts down the wonder. But what if…maybe…

Dr. Steven Wright says we wouldn’t really like it if we got everything we wanted: Where would we put it? Maybe one of the seven houses we would buy, one on each continent. Or a complete warehouse.

Hey. Why am I saying “we”? It would be mine, mine, mine.

What would it be like to look exactly like you think you want to look? Or—for the delusional among us—how you already think you look? Delusion, by the way, is underrated. Is it wrong for a 1 on the 10 scale to think he, she, or them look like a 9 or 10? If given a choice between an ugly man who sees himself as Hugh Hefner and a well-adjusted man who is a serial killer, the choice is easy. Not that a well-adjusted man would be a serial killer. As an irrelevant aside, I wouldn’t mind being George Clooney for a day. Or Cindy Crawford if options were limited and it didn’t last forever.

What would it be like, come to think of it, to suddenly become a member of the opposite sex, or any sex* you aren’t, presently? Is there an honest man amongst** us who will admit to imagining being a woman? I’ll bet this modern world has a woman or two who would never dream of being a man. And if you males imagine being a different sex, add different eras to be different sexes, too. To wit: a women in the 15th century. Or a cavewoman.

From my college days, I wonder what it would have been like to know what you want to be at 18 years old. In 1970, a circular group of 14 incoming Colgate University freshmen*** were asked what they wanted out of the University. 13 had specific goals like pre-med, pre-law, politics, health administration. Might be a good documentary to flash back and see how many made it. I hope they all did.  And if they did make it, hope it made them happy.

What would it be like if all the gadgets from old (and new) Star Trek shows were invented? Imagine being “beamed up” and around anywhere in seconds. Or the health analyzer Bones just pointed at people to learn what ailed them. We’ve had the “flip” communicator device for decades, now, so…there’s hope.

And have you been having trouble with your Ai partner? I turned off Emma, the dedicated and hard-working Ai add-on on my Android phone, last month. It wasn’t because of her small-type disclaimers at the end of her answers, but because if I asked her about slip-on shoes,  minutes later my phone was infected with slip-on shoe ads. I gave her a chance and asked if she was selling my interests to a third party and she denied it, but facts a facts, even when dealing with Ai. Since being uninstalled I have not heard “boo” from her. Good, right?

If you’re wondering, it’s back to plain vanilla google searches and so far, so ad-free. Google seems to be more interested, now, and asks questions.

Wonder what it would be like to not have my smart cell-phone partner anymore.

Ugh. Cold shivers.

I wonder if it would help my memory issue. Has my brain opted to let my phone remember everything? What if my battery dies?

Now, there’s a healthy conversation about a death other than my own.

*There are more options, these days.

**Notice among and amongst used correctly in two different places?

***And freshwomen? Or is freshmen a sexless term like sophomore, junior, and senior?

Weird Odd Things

The Sand Striker worms are between 3 and 6 feet long. They burrow in the sandy sea bottom until only their antennae are exposed. They are blind but when a small piece of seafood touches their antenna, the worms flash up and use powerful pincer jaws to grab the small fish or whatever was passing by. The Sand Striker then pulls the catch into its sand tunnels and enjoys a meal. I heard about this from a radio interview with author Sabrina Imbler, who was talking about their book “How far The Light.” I haven’t purchased the book yet, but will, and hope everyone else does. They have an interesting way of knitting together science facts and human realities, and are a fine, interesting writer. There will be more.

It isn’t unusual to not know about sea creatures. We don’t run into them much on land. But another sea floor inhabitant, the Flatworm, has an interesting sex life. There is a great video on “youtube” from the BBC, narrated by David Attenborough. You should google. His wonderfully English-Empire voice and gravitas make the Flatworm’s reproductive operation serious as the Pope but with overtones of Monty Python. See, the flatworm is born with both male and female sex organs. DEI, anyone? Flatworms have mated in an odd way for millions of years, but it’s not clear why, or the Darwinian reasoning for their survival. When two Flatworms cross paths in the bottom of the ocean, they rise up like cobras and—really not making this up—begin to fence with their erect, two-pronged penises. It’s part Inigo Montoya* and part pornographic professional wrestling. The first asexual flatworm to “stab” the other with his penis, becomes the male of the relationship and floats away to enjoy his freedom. It is not clear if “he” is happy or not, but no child support. The “stabbed” flatworm becomes the female, mother, and transporter, assuming all the responsibilities and duties.** Can’t tell if “she” is happy or not, either. Wonder how many of us men are descended from flatworms. If any. It was so surprising I never researched how many times this can happen, or if–when one flatworm becomes a female–is it always a female? Uncommon (sic) sense suggests there might be a time at which all flatworms return to their dual-sex, true selves. Imagine what the Flatworm retirement home must be like. And the bathroom signage. And possible ED? Nothing like a sword fight with flaccid swords.

Life has been kind of nice, lately, learning new things is great. But a bad night’s sleep made me cranky and the drive to the grocery store was filled with idiots, morons, and flatworms who must have learned driving from The Three Stooges Driving School. The short trip ended without accident so as I sat in my car, the amount of time, effort, and blood pressure exerted in 15 minutes impressed me, and made me wonder why. The self-examination calmed me and allowed me to see the real problem: I had cursed 5 times and every time it was the same. I’m in a rut.

But I also felt it was all my fault for being cranky and most people were good, decent, caring drivers. I started my walk to the grocery door feeling better about people. So when I was suddenly cut off by a white Mercedes screeching to a halt right in front of the automatic doors, the first noises out of my mouth were not words. A very obese young man popped out of the car, left it running, and walked into the store. I followed out of curiosity. He spent 11 minutes shopping for bathroom tissue, paper towels, and beer. Then checked out, got back into his running car and drove off.

Nary a word from me or him, or anyone.

I deeply, deeply, regret not stealing his car. Repositioning it, I mean.

Hopefully, he feels the wrath of my dream of his capture by a Sand Striker.

Ah, life. You can’t live with it and you can’t something something something…

*Best line in any movie; “Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.” For the young reader, watch The Princess Bride. A classic.

**But no soccer practice. Flatworms are feet-free.

Finally…

It took a lifetime, but there was a point this week where my mind and body got on the same page. BB, IV, OV, and TB together, finally.* For the last 50 years TB has aged at one rate, while BB has aged at another, while IV and OV were left confused and argumentative. When TB was 60 years old, BB pegged our biological life at 45 years. When we hit 70 in TB years, BB stated– muttering through IV and OV–that we were only 47. When the calamities hit us all at age 72, TB fought for survival while BB told us things would be all right: we’re going to make it.

It’s tough to live a modestly happy existence when each segment of your life is looking at things from a different perspective. Example from past essay: March 2025 when BB excitedly instructed TB to chase down a tennis drop shot** at 9:37am at Southern Boundaries Park in Durham, North Carolina. BB leaned into the instruction and was totally surprised when TB said, “No way!” and shut down. The fall was magnificent but left TB with scrapes and bruises still visible to this day, August 28, 2026. BB was shocked and angry, as well, as if betrayed, but what could it do when TB could not get up off the concrete tennis surface?

BB has historically fought the Truth about Aging. When TB was racked with radiation and drugs meant to destroy a murderous interloper***, BB didn’t really comprehend the damage. BB still saw TB as the strong, silent, invincible young man of decades past. Even worse, BB was convinced we’d soon be back to the handsome, healthy young man of an age well before cell phones. This lunacy not only made for contentious inner dialogues amongst**** all of us, but also fed TB, IV, and OV purposeful deceptions about how much love, romance, wealth, and time was left in our lives. The future was bright according to the gray matter nesting comfortably in my noggin.

So it was this past week, as the scars and worries of treatments healed and faded, as arthritis was finally vanquished with magical surgeries, all four of us were finally able to enjoy the warm, wonderful Upstate NY summers that are the best in the world. Not only was my entire body in the earthly heaven, but my entire being–all of us–were ready to bask, ready to revel, ready to move on from disease and worry. Finally.

The wanton and absolutely cruel ex-partner’s abandonment of me also took on a different feel: I am no longer a discarded cancer victim left for dead, I am now a free man, free to do whatever, and be whatever, a healthy, well-rounded, totally balanced individual set loose on society. The world would be my oyster. It was a miracle of medical science as well as a miracle of the mind and body, with IV, OV, TB and BB all agreeing: let’s get the feck steppin’ to a better life. Past shite, be damned. Finally.

Here is the pivotal moment as best as I/we remember: BB informed TB that with our newfound enlightenment, BB now officially sees us as a 74-year-old man with a cranky, well-worn transmission and little tread left on the tires. No longer would TB have reason to contradict BB’s instruction. There were sighs of relief from IV and OV as well, as they realized arguments were never going to be destructive wastes of time again. New debates would be constructive, positive, and based on facts, not feelings. You could make the case we, matured, finally at age 74.

It was always odd to look in the mirror and hear two voices, one saying how young I looked and the other asking, “what the hell are you LOOKING at?”

Now, it is one voice saying “Hey. Looking okay for 74. But you’re not 44, so brush those teeth a little longer.”

Life’s nicer when we all get along.

Hear that, world?

And this essay is done. Finally.

PS If any readers are professionally trained psychologist-types, this essay is (attempted) humor and we do not have multiple personalities. You may, of course, have fun critiquing this essay with your Jungian Theory but I’m ok, if you’re okay.  Wink, wink. Finally

*Big Brain, Outer Voice, Inner Voice, and The Body.

**From a decidedly younger and non-empathetic (sic) opponent.

***Someone or thing that enters a place it does not belong.

****Wondering about “among” or “amongst”? Per Ai they mean “the exact same thing so no worries, now.