Darwin Doorbooger on Security Patrol

Darwin Doorbooger patrols the index of time, event horizon and memory along the pumphouse  door sill and sidereal mentation. I rely on him a lot and am glad I didn't mash him years ago.

During a 1948 speech by Harry Truman in Bremerton, Washington, a supporter famously yelled, "Give 'em hell, Harry!"

Four years later, my father recounted the quote at the supper table and I was enthralled. I asked, "Daddy, what did Hairy say?"

"Hmmm. Something like, 'that's what I'm going to do'."

"And he got to be President, right?"

"Yes, son. Still is. President Harry Truman."

"Don't he have a middle name?"

" Just 'S."

I was pitched into deep thought, even for a pre-literate child. Hairy Ass Truman? Sounded to me like one dangerously tough guy --if his parents named him Hairy Ass...

But Darwin Doorbooger gently interrupted. "Geo., I just turned around and looked at the padlock. It's a long crawl down and, happily for you, this doorway isn't getting any shorter. Oh yeah, and neither one of us is a toad, ok?"

Then Eisenhower got elected. Hey, Darwin, slow down! Hold it, rest a moment. Timeline's going too fast.

"Aw, ok."

"Ok, Darwin, hold still. We're in the 1950s now and have a new president. When Truman presided, I couldn't read. Then, Ike came in and, like magic, I could --and write too! I still like Ike and am forever grateful."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's move on to the weird stuff, Geo. On to the 60s when Uncle Sam and Lady Liberty started cross-dressing and waging 'undeclared wars' and piloting international belligerence."

"Can't we skip that part, Darwin, please?"

"Only if you play the song --you know, the SONG!"

"Ok."


Roger Miller, "My Uncle used to love me but she died"

"OK! Now tell what you just went through."

"Dear Readers, Youtube changed all the stuff you have to do to put a clip on Blogger, overnight. It took me  a whole bottle of pinot noir and ALL my native savvy to untangle their improvement. I went to Youtube, found Roger and did all the usual things. Didn't work. However, if you find yourself in a similar position, take heed of the Blogger icon on their "share" bit. Hit that and you'll make progress. I forget a lot of what I did and all of what I said but believe success was mine. We'll know for sure when I hit "publish".

Darwin got tired of waiting and hopped off to eat bugs.

And, everybody, keep on the sunny side.

Darwin Doorbooger Solves An Enigma

In keeping with the previous post's investigation of  lexiconography (which happily drew good comments from good minds), I have decided to reference Helsingør and Word List #8 ,  posted June, 2011 (which didn't get any comments at all) --specifically to investigate question #3:"Has Mercator projection ever been tested on humans?"

Mercator projection is the flat, 1-dimensional, map of the world that rolled down by a shade-pull from a long horizontal cylinder over classroom blackboards when we were schoolkids.However, it distorted the planet to where  North and South Poles were broader than any continents that were  not made out of ice. So I went outdoors (I usually do) and called out, "Darwin? Darwin Doorbooger!" You wouldn't know about my seminars with Darwin Doorbooger without clicking on this blue sentence and reading the entries there below this one. Let us proceed.

Darwin: I'm over here on a geranium leaf.

Geo.: Good heavens, old friend! Are you all right? You look pale.

Darwin: I'm ok. It's just something that happens to older treefrogs.

Geo.: Ah, like my hair going white.

Darwin: What's hair?

Geo.: Nothing important. I came with a question about how the world is mapped.

Darwin: The world, as I see it, extends some few yards around this geranium --maybe 100 feet in circumference, tops.

Geo.: What if I told you it is around 25000 miles in circumference?

Darwin: Now you're just being silly, Geo.

Geo..:  But it's been measured and ascertained as a globe. We have representations in our classrooms, halls of learning --not to mention the hall off my back porch. Look into my mind:

Darwin: What the heck is THAT?

Geo.: It's a simple sinusoidal representation of the planet, showing a more accurate surface of a globe.


Darwin: Geo., your kind thinks in three or four dimensions while we think in zero dimensions, and I'm sure  that map presents human population densities quite well but poses problems and anomalies to shipping lanes and international borders. What if somebody made even more gores, cuts and lobes?

Geo.: They have, Darwin, they have.

Darwin: Well,  that would disrupt borders, divide countries and bisect private properties! You humans need to stop this catastrophic cartology at once! It may approach  accuracy but sends the wrong message.

Geo.: Then upon whom was the Mercator Projection originally tested, if not humans?

Darwin: Treefrogs, of course.  

Darwin Doorbooger Returns!

Some of you may recall an old post about Darwin Doorbooger, a little treefrog who explained the cognitive nuances of OBE (Out of Body Experience). I am pleased to report he has returned, perched upon a stalk of Dallisgrass and available for photographs.

"Hello, Darwin."

"Hello Geo.!"

"Did you hop onto that tightrope or are you in the middle of crawling on it?"

"I'm just sitting here, waiting."

"Waiting for bugs, I bet."

"Bugs would be good, perhaps a nice ant-trail. How have you been?"

"Not bad for a human my age. I've had tinnitus for four months."

"I know. I can hear it."

"Yes, I remember, you hear the brains of others in the absence of your own. But why have you quit the pumphouse door for this precarious perch?"

"Just showing off. Can Norma take a photo of me here?"

"Of course. But Darwin, why there?"

"Consider it a test of balance. I wanted to see if I could do it. Let me explore your memory. Hmmm, interesting. 40 years ago you were in an alley..."

"Yes, a studio that gave onto an alley. I restored artwork there. I don't do that now."

"Don't you? Consider this photo from a recent poem illustration:"

"Okay. explain."

"Easier, Geo., if we just compare it to the original:"

"Oh my. Yes, well there were lots of street signs..."

"One of which was growing out of your collar and into your right ear. That can't have helped your tinnitus."

"It is often an ailment of unknown etiology, Darwin. Its symptoms constitute an enigma."

"Best addressed by...?"

"So far, by maintaining a policy of inquiry --like a detective story-- and..."

"Balance, Geo.? Balance?"

"Quite."

"And, Geo., if you can paint out streetlights and signs..."

"...I can perhaps mask this dialtone in my head?"

"You said it, gong-boy, not me. Why, I believe I saw an ant! Bye. 

Treefrog Art

Our old back door is kept in service by improvised hinges; its integrity maintained by scraps of sheet metal --old aluminum signs we bought at the salvage yard long ago when we hadn't much money. We remember the fun we had with it and intend to keep it sturdy in wind and rain, torturous temperatures forever. Its sill is set in grooved siding lumpy with many paintings. Here's a detail:

I direct your attention to the greenish speck in the groove just right of the aluminum elephant at the top of the rose wand. 
"Hello, little friend!"

"Hello Geo."
"Ah, so you know me then?"
"Yes, from my great-great-grampa,  Darwin Doorbooger."
"And you are?"
"Darwin Doorbooger 3. "
"The third?"
"Not exactly, Geo., we are exponential. I am Darwin Cubed."
"Oh My! To what effect?"
"Well, for one I am learning to scare off predators by contorting 
   parts and spots into old California symbols of sternness.    
   Observe my Mighty Conquistador face!"

."You are an artist!"

"Indeed, all my grampas consider it my extrapolative ability! I am    working on the pointy helmet part but it always squeezes turds out me. Can you take measurements and offer advice?"

"Sure, Cube...

"...I worked for 7 years as a fine arts framer and restorer before going outdoors, and  attended many gallery shows. I was frequently consulted on all aspects of presentation but declined comment on performance art. I believe your chosen genre is in that category.  None of the performing artists I saw or even heard of could poop upside down on the wall --I doubt it was for want of trying, Cube. It wasn't taught in junior college and they couldn't do it, and I'm not certain their excreta would differ much from your digested housefly. In the parlance of the time, they just couldn't get in the right groove."

OBE

Garden sign said she wants coffee. I don't know where to take an unknown number of cups --are there guests, people in the woody end?-- but I ignore it at my peril. Where did I leave that? Pumphouse, not because it contains peril but a treasured boyhood book I read, "Planet Of Peril", by Otis Adelbert Kline and the mind wandered: Perils Of Pauline? Perils before swine? Swine, wine. What wine with swine? Cabernet, I decided. And they want coffee? There was a wet lump on the underside of the doorknob. I brought it up on my finger and said, "Not again! Are you all right?"

"I think so. Just set me on the sill."

"Certainly, little doorbooger. But you shouldn't loaf under the knob."



"I know. I always forget. But you must admit, the doorknob is safer than getting into the door jamb. People close doors and we have awful accidents in there --again and again. See that mummified flap of flesh at the hinge? That was my father."

"I'm so sorry!"

"No need. He was an idiot."

"Surely not."

"Ok, look between my eyes. What do you see?"

"I see a sort of concavity."

"And?"

"Empty space, nothing."

"Exactly, I inherited that, yet between your eyes is a great cranial vault bigger than the flower pot that five generations of my family call home."

"But surely, your place on the evolutionary ladder equals mine, doorbooger."

"Don't call me that. My name is Darwin."

"You mean...how do you know about Darwin?"

"Us treefrogs are all psychic. We just looked in your mansion-sized human brains and named ourselves after the deal that gave the most reasonable explanation of us.

"So you can see Charles Darwin in my brain?"

"Yeah. We got OBE."

"What's he saying?"
"Not a helluva lot."

"You did that by Out-Of-Body-Experience?"

"No big deal. Every body who isn't you is having one right now."

"That's amazing! And it would compensate for your lack of cranial capacity."

"True, on our own we have poor memories. By the way, aren't you supposed to be brewing coffee? And that book, it's green, bound in buckram."

"Oh yes, thanks for reminding me."

"Of what?"

Garden Interview And Shakespeare

"Gosh, what're you?"

"I'm the same Carpenter Bee Normaphotoed  in your previous post."

"Yes, I remember...

                                        ...but you're all yellow up top now."

"True. Weather's heating up, Geo. What you see is sunscreen."

"You use pollen for sunscreen?"

"We use pollen for everything,  like in Shakespeare."

"Hamlet? 'To bee or not to bee?'(act3,scene1)"

"Don't get silly, Geo. It's 'to thine own self bee true' --Pollenius's line (act1,scene3)."

"I believe that's 'Polonius'. "

"Well don't tell anybody or the whole ecology could crash. Go and visit the other leaf and petal workers instead. I'm sure you'll see the need for discretion."

"'Most humbly (not bumblebee) do I take my leave, my lord.(act1, scene3)'"

"That's better, Geo. Now go see how your other friends are getting along. Go see Ladybug on the roses."

"Ah, there she is. Hello!"

"Hello yourself, human. Stop staring at my butt."

"Then, turn around. I can't get into the roses for another angle."

"Too busy eating aphids --who are you anyway?"

"I'm Geo. I write a blog.

"Geo.? I've heard of you. You're the clumsy idiot who stepped on his college counselor in 1970.  Get out of here."

"Well, that was an accident. I notice you have no wing-markings, does that mean...?"

"I am a Ladybug of spotless reputation. Now please move on so I can eat these blameless  screaming aphids. I believe an old friend of yours is sitting on a sage leaf. Goodbye! "

"'I shall in all my best obey you, Madam.(act1,scene2).'...Darwin? Darwin Doorbooger? is it really you? "

"But yes, it is I. Hello old friend! You look the same,Geo., but --alas!-- I am turning all sorts of impossible colors."

"Yes, that happened to me after a pacemaker change-out. Are you all right?"

"I feel ok, but am concerned about all this talk of Hamlet."

"You are turning a lovely green, Darwin. How would Shakespeare trouble you?"

"He also wrote Two Gentlemen Of Verona, Geo. What if I should turn black and be mistaken for a castanet?"

"You could be clicked to rhythmic ruin in a Tarantella!"

"Exactly! Can you help?"

"Don't worry, Darwin, I know where we can get yellow sunscreen and unwanted wing-spots that will prevent such calamity. Hop into my palm, there's a bee and a ladybug I'd like you to meet.

Enigma: Getting All Religious

Every night, before bed...

...I go out to the garden lamp where Darwin Doorbooger  awaits supper on the switchbox. He hasn't grown much over the years --the great pillar at his nose is 1/2 inch electrical conduit conducting current to the light. He's  maybe 5/8ths-inch long now.

"Hi, Darwin."
"Hi, Geo., stay back a bit."
"Reason?"
"There are bite-sized bugs, attracted to the lightbulb, that I really like."
"Sure thing, Darwin."
"What are you up to tonight, Geo.?"
"Well, it's 11 o'clock and I just captured a wolf-spider in a cup and card, then deposited him safely outdoors --where he can have a more rewarding life."
"I can't eat wolf-spiders. They're bigger than I am."
"That's not the point, Darwin, I did it so the spider could..."
"Nonsense, you did it because you humans think you must do God's work for Him!"
"Darwin, I could say I'm sorry you feel that way but one does not apologize to an insult."
"Oh it's just the hunger and the rattling I got from your recent holiday conducted with explosives."
" 'Sokay Darwin. I celebrated in peevish silence and checked all night for field fires. Our neighbors aren't all idiots but one's  all it takes."
"I know, Geo. I saw you (sniff). "
"Uh-huh. I love you too, Darwin."

RECENT BRAIN SCAN

 

 This printout of my brain is un-retouched and shows marked progress in recovery from neurosurgeries conducted on it a few months ago. It shows no sign of brain-fog attendant to dementia but --according to my tiny garden friend, Darwin Doorbooger-- shows some sign of brain-frog. My hopping has improved.

                          [overhead Normascan of my brain]
 

This, of course, brings us to the "Drake Equation":  

In 1960 Astrophysicist Dr.Frank Drake started a project (named for another Frank --Frank Baum) called Ozma (after Ozma of Oz).  Dr. Blake's equation was the result of searching the entire observable universe with a radiotelescope 85 feet in diameter. Big scan.

 

Project Ozma examined everything in our galaxy for coherent radio emissions according to Drake's Equation, which is: 

              N= R*.fp.ne.fi.fe.L  (you can look it up --all I remember is N stands for "Number"). He then decided to report that odds against intelligent radio transmission in the universe was a million-millions to one, then later helped an even bigger telescope get funding and raised the result to a trillion-trillions. I can question his accuracy but not his politcking prowess.

In 1960 (and still), I would set my tripod and optical telescope up in the back yard and watch stars move across the field of its objective lens. I learned that all possibilities are assembled in the universe --you, me, planets, stars-- and I think of Marcus Aurelius who wrote: "Dwell on the beauty of life. Watch the stars and see yourself running with them." 

   

                                

 

                                                                                  

 

 

 

 

         

 

A U-Solve-It Enigma

I've never posted a U-Solve-it mystery before but find it presently unavoidable. It was perpetrated yesterday by wife, Norma, and photogenic accomplice, Darwin Doorbooger. It consists of 3 photos taken with her cell phone which --1st clue-- has no setting for selective focusing. And yet...

...there is Darwin in crystal clarity with soft-focus geraniums beyond.

I spent well over 30 years in high school (as student and gardener, what did you think? Oh how could you?) and am very well educated, yet I could only guess she'd coaxed Darwin indoors and onto a window overlooking...no, we have no geraniums blooming window height (second clue). 

Another photo:

These are not products of trick-photography --notice my fingers never leave my hands. Here is the closing photo and a final clue from the master of deductive reasoning, Sherlock Holmes:

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth"--Arthur Conan Doyle. 
Hope you have as much fun with this puzzle as I did. Theories, comments, questions and opinions welcome!

Where The Treefrogs Are

I started out looking for treefrogs. Found E(a)rnest Squirrel first:

Geo.: 'Morning E(a)rnest. What's up?

Ern.: Well, you're taking notes and...hey, is that all I get, 3 letters in my name?

Geo.: Same as I get. Why are you chewing bark?

Ern.: No toothbrush. What's your real question?

Geo.: Where are all the treefrogs? They're not out this morning.

Ern.: Oooyour'e right! My guess is the little bald boogers felt the wind keenly last night. Try checking the backyard bench, the one with the tarp over its cushions.
*************************
I followed his instructions, went out back and withdrew the tarp.

Geo.: Darwin? Darwin Doorbooger? Are you in there? What are you doing?

Dar.: I'm on the left, Geo., with somebody's butt on my head.

Geo.: 'S'ok, happens to all of us sometimes. Are you guys all right?

Dar.: I think so. After 5 months of hot nights, we thought summer was permanent, then it suddenly got cold!

Geo.: Surely, not that cold.

Dar.: Geo., we have brains the size of nonpareils --those little sugar-specks moms used to sprinkle on party cupcakes. We teeter on the very edge of reason and all it takes is a slight breeze to knock us into chaos.

Geo.: My species has big brains, Darwin, but we suffer the same problem. Weather change makes humans bananas.

Dar.: Well, we treefrogs haven't the intelligence to go mad, or minds to be out of, so we get under covers and huddle up.

Geo.: A most sensible solution.

Dar.: Sense, we have in combination, piles in fact --as evidenced by your investigation...

...we also wipe our muddy hands on your outdoor upholstery. Please replace the tarp and give our regards to E(a)rnest.
*************************
Geo.: G'night Ernest, and best wishes from the clutch of treefrogs --right where you told me they'd be.

"Good night, Geo. You know, treefrogs are full of ideas despite their paucity of brains --and when ideas become ideologies, they are not so easily contained. Be cautious, old friend.

Geo.: Are there no exceptions?

Ern: Oh, certainly. Go back and take note of the treefrog who has Buddha's ear:

Geo.: Understood.

Ern.: Good, and I hope you did not tell them what "nonpareil" means.

Geo.: It is French for peerless, isn't it?

Ern.: Indeed, but don't tell them. A few scraps thrown to any species --even humans-- makes a cosmic joke of them. Work from nature, the language of  the universe.