Carl's Tiny Brain

My ex-wife and I were discussing religion the other night, so naturally the subject of Pluto came up. She favors creationism over evolution because science lacks constancy. It’s hard for her to trust something so flighty.

I usually disagree with the ex as a matter of principle, but – doggone it – she has a point. Just when you think you have something memorized, they go and snatch the solar system right out from under you.

My solar system mnemonic is shot to hell. Like many folks my age, my planetary arrangement depended upon the phrase “My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas.” Astronomy just stole my pizza.

It’s the end of the solar system as we know it … and there’s no thirty-minute guarantee.

What will kids memorize now – “My Very Evil Mother Just Served Us Nothing?” Way to go, astronomy – take my pie… and blame it on mother.

At least I didn’t waste time studying the new science of exobiology when they touted that (now discredited) Martian meteorite with the pseudo-fossils.

What’s next – reclassifying Uranus as a black hole?

While we’re at it, let’s reclassify Earth as “An expendable roundish body ruled by republicans.” They’ll probably blow it up soon anyway, and there’ll be less paperwork afterwards.

I wish I could believe in a religion.

Well, I’m back (sort of.)

I got very busy at work, helping our machinist design and build a ridiculous quantity of wild pig traps for the Department of Natural Resources. Then I had an accident with a blowtorch, lost vision for a little while, and am recovering from severe burns to my hands. There’s poetry in there somewhere, but I refuse to acknowledge it.

The DNR orders quirky stuff from us around this time every year. Last year, it was custom rockets. Big, ugly, solid-fueled rockets made of iron. To catch Canadian geese. I didn't launch myself into orbit.

On a comforting note, our traps are catching up to 20 wild pigs per night, each. Sleep safe.