End of Science

Fact is, science has already gone to the limits of it’s capabilities. And ... it finds nothing there. But, don’t ask science to deal with that. Science by design needs the quantifiable, the measureable. Science deals in something, not nothing.

So now, what to do about that "nothing". It’s ironic that the inquiring mind of science is brought to a standstill in the face of the absolute impossibility of its ability to know. Not much unlike not being able to see the back of your head.

Like Aristotle figured out so long ago ... “I don’t know”. How much of the mischief we’ve created in the world is the direct result of stubborn unwillingness to admit to that plain, indisputable fact.

Albert gets the last word. Gravity, Einstein concluded, is the shape of what most people would casually think of as nothing.

Modern Times 101 Professor John Mearsheimer

Modern Times 101 Professor John Mearsheimer ... 

Mid-Term 2022 Election Consequences

At this probably too early to tell moment in the political process, even so, it seems as though the Republicans will sweep both the House and Senate in the 2022 mid-term elections.

If so ... How about this for some cumuppance?

The Republican majority in the House of Representatives impeaches President Biden. The stories swirling around him and fils make Trump's "perfect phone call" look like a dish. [And, yet, the Dems went full throttle to dump Trump. Remember?]

Of course that give us President Kamala Harris. Great for historic firsts; but, as President ... not so much. Not much at all if you ask ... just about anybody.

Now what? Impeach the Veep! Grounds. Ninconpoopiness? I don't have any other idea. But, pols being who they are, I'm sure something can be cooked up.

Say hello to our next President, Kevin McCarthy. Being the Speaker of the House, he's next in line after the Prez and the Veep are gone. N'est-ce pas?

Radical. Radical? Well, yeah. But, unless Joe and company turn things around, it might come to torches and pitchforks at the White House gates otherwise.

Just sayin'.

Great XXX Uncle Victor Wronski

 

Meet my dear Great XXX Uncle Victor Wronski. Lighting up the silver screen in the Pre-Code era. Heating it up too!

His movie roles and his, ahem, offscreen antics brought the definition "type casting". In the lobby card pictured above, don't get confused. "Cockeyed" wasn't what it means today. Or, more correctly, what it could in these Post Modern Relativistic times. You know the classic, "Sometimes a Cigar is just a Cigar".

Which reminds me of the story about what Groucho Marx was rumored to have said to a women on his show, "You Bet Your Life". She had very many children and Groucho asked her why. She replied that she loved her husband. Groucho: "I love my Cigar, too. But, sometimes I take it out of my mouth".

Uncle appeared in the many faintly remembered, never to be seen lost early Hollywood naughty confections. "Some Sugar with That, Honey?" "Let's Take a Look ... Bend Over." "I'm Peckish, But Not That Much!" "Eat That!!!" "That's One of Mine!" 

That last one — "That's One of Mine!" — had a funny plot line: 

He played the piano. Wrote all his tunes himself. Brilliant. Bigger than Jesus. And, BTW, John Lennon too. In the day, that is. But. Big "but". He gave his tunes the worst names. Dirty. Lewd. Scatalogic. Sleazy. Twisted. Warped. You get the picture? Just, downright awful. Unspeakable. [In these easily offended times, he would be kind ... of such.]

So it goes that one day he's auditioning for a gig at a swell Hollywood night spot. The manager likes his playing. "But, you can't say the song titles. This is a swanky joint!" Uncle agrees. Uncle, that is, in the movie. Remember we're talking about a movie? C'mon, Man!

He's playing his heart out. The crowd loves it. Going nuts, in fact. After a while he needs to make a pit stop. Excuses himself, and goes to the restroom. On his way out he forgets to put things back. A fellow sees that, and says, "Hey! Do you know your pants are unzipped and your dick is hanging out!" Uncle, in that still well remembered reposte chimes back: "Know it? I wrote it!"

Or, that blockbuster movie, "Night Cap". The, ahem, climax of the movie. After a lavish and adventurous night on the town with some lovely, he's invited up for the so oft euphemized "night cap". 

The lady prepares a coupla Stingers. A hint if there ever was one. But ... he goes to take a sip and notices something. What is it. A pubic hair. Floating right there int he middle of the glass. 

The movie moves to the inside of his thinking. "Is this just a messy mistake?" "Is this an overture?" "What should I do?" "On any level, she's sure not someone I should bring to meet Momma!" Always one to hedge his bet, and to keep his cards close to his vest, he said, "Do you have anything to eat with that?".

Not one to miss an opportunity either, but one who is tactful enough — talk about tact! He once asked a women he had just met a tactless question. She had a visibly protruding belly. He inquired whether she was pregnant, or had just finished a big lunch. 

After that, it was all denouement from there. It was pre-code, but even in the day the perticlars weren't laid out in full view. But, you can imagine it. Just take down one of those pornos you got on file and pop it in the VCR.

For the full Wronski Family exposé, CLICK.

Rumi ... On How to Live