Saturday, March 31, 2012

An entertainment complex in the middle of a sewage plant

I'm high on Neil deGrasse Tyson this weekend.

In criticizing intelligent design, he points some obvious flaws in the human body. For example, unlike dolphins and whales, we use the same hole to eat, breath, and speak--so inevitably a certain number of people die every year of choking. And no engineer would have created what we have between our legs, which he calls "an entertainment complex in the middle of a sewage plant".

An audience member at an appearance asked him what he, lacking belief in god, would do with the knowledge that he is about to be executed. His answer:

I would request that my body, in death, be buried, not cremated, so that the energy content contained within it gets returned to the earth, so that flora and fauna can dine upon it, just as I have dined upon flora and fauna throughout my life.

When he speaks he takes command of the subject. He rolls fluently through any thought, often in ten-minute pieces. He is that special kind of mind that produces spontaneous speech as clear and refined as a piece of writing that has been drafted, revised and rewritten.

I'm still mourning the loss of Christopher Hitchens. It hurts to know that there will never be any new material from him. So it is all the more delightful that Neil deGrasse Tyson is among the living.

Meanwhile, I am schlepping through a biography of Ralph Waldo Emerson. I can only report so far that he was smart and said an inspiring thing or two by the time he hit his mid thirties. Otherwise, he is a snooze fest.

(NASA photo via Wikipedia)

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Lottofest

Everyone is talking about the huge lottery jackpot and what they would do if they won it.

I'm not rich. I have challenges in my life, but none of them are the result of lacking wealth. In fact, I think the discipline required to earn a living keeps my idiosyncrasies in check.

You have to wonder what Michael Jackson would have been like without fame and fortune. He might have been unhappy with his appearance, like a lot of people are, but he would never have had cosmetic surgery. Maybe he'd have trouble sleeping, like many people do, but he would be taking Ambien; he wouldn't have a personal doctor injecting him with Propofol. Sure, he would probably be a weird and unhappy guy, but with the pressure of having to make ends meet and lack of riches, there's a good chance his weirdness wouldn't balloon like it did in the actual course his life took.

I have a lot of wealth in my life, earned and otherwise, that cannot be measured in dollars. And I think work is good for my soul.