We all find perspective in our own dubious ways, usually involving confirmation and cognitive bias. Who knows, maybe those two things are one and the same – I shall search for research that confirms my cognitions on this conundrum. Meanwhile, bias away, chaps, or bike away, and make it quick. That arch looks temporary to me.
Yes, ants are both small and annoying, and annoying and small, though somehow rather cute as well when they are not terrifying. Furthermore, they are one of the species that keep everything running on the third rock, and without them, there would be disasters such as we have not seen before. And let me tell you, here on Mars we can do without an influx of terrified terra formers as it were, it is hard enough to grow an edible patch of catnip. So, keep the ants close to your hearts, humans, and others, they are good, though annoying, yes.
PS. I would not recommend Rodney Countemfast for your tax return, although you are a grown-up (maybe you are), so make your own decision, dude.
I’d like to be able to say that there are relaxing oceans on Mars, but to tell you the truth, I’m just not certain. There is so much more to explore, and melt. But right now, I’m about to find a delightful deck chair, a tuna martini, and a couple of cubist friends with whom to jibber-jabber until the stars emerge. Goodnight.
My old friend, Brigid, simply loves geometry, so she was a sitting duck for the imitation game, wasn’t she? Yes, she was. And what could be lovelier than imitating your own namesake’s symbol? I’ll tell you what could be lovelier – a plate of tuna fancies in the shape of a St Brigid’s Cross, of course. What else? Well, eating them all is what else. Excuse me, I hear some fancies calling.
When I meditate, or engage in complex and nuanced yoga poses, I am invariably sleeping. Don’t knock it, it works; also, if you knock it, you’ll wake me up, and I will be cranky. Arguably, dreaming of such things is as effective as doing them, and who are we to say we are dreaming or we are real-ing? Hmmm? Now I must return to my weight-lifting – the 250kg snatch and beef jerky, shall we say?
It is almost a certainty that former hired assassins have limited knowledge of appropriate titles. On the other hand, I, for one, am not going to tell Maxwell Magillicuddy that he should, indeed, second-guess ‘Kebab Your Lamb and Other Stabby Recipes’ now that he’s turned his attention to, let us say, other victims. If he could stomach a dose of vegetarianism, ‘Coleslaw Your Carrot and Other Grating Recipes’ sounds so much less threatening, don’t you agree (unless you’re a carrot, or the friend or relative of a carrot – apologies to all long, orange vegies)?
I am helping out a couple of earthlings today, Lorrie and Jay.
As you can see, they have just entered into wedded bliss after only 24 years of living in, well, unwedded bliss, shall we say. It helped that the Federal Govt changed its stupid Marriage laws so that everyone can now enjoy their first crockery-throwing barney together as hitched individuals. So there.
And a big shout out – SHOUT OUT – to dear Jodi for her most excellent haiku, also known as a Verandaku – and love to Wayne, too.