Monday, October 31, 2005

Luky Wants To Go As A Great White!

Luky got home from the Atlanta Pet Resort where he stayed this weekend. He had his journal with him so he has lots of entries and notes to transcribe. I've got work to do so I don't know when he thinks he's going to get to the computer.

It's Halloween. I'm thinking I can buy a day just by keeping the channel tuned to a werewolf movie. He loves both An American Werewolf films - "in London" and "in Paris." If I can keep him focused we might avoid the notion of going trick-or-treating! He wants to go as the shark in Jaws.

Don't ask!

Sunday, October 30, 2005

It's Good To Get Back

Luky says I'm allergic to vacation. I was out of town for the weekend on a mission to relax. Those have always seemed to be difficult, near death-defying missions.

Luky's mom arranged a visit to a Blue Ridge Mountains B&B.

"Too much sleep and too much good food - right?" Luky was analyzing my mood Sunday.

"I guess so, but then again I'm rested I think."

"It won't help. Like all humans you will need a recovery period to get over your restful weekend."

"How do you know so much about human vacations?" I ask him with some impatience.

"It's not vacations. It's routine. We wolves are highly routine-oriented and we have always wondered why humans don't realize that they are also! You always work so hard to create change and variation when, in fact, you perform so poorly when you achieve that flux."

"I did a short run," I protested. Luky knows that running is a routine-calibrator for me.

"I know."

"You know? How do you know?"

"Your New Balances smell like squirrel and rabbit droppings - and they haven't been eating middle Georgia flora."

"What else?" I really knew that was a bad question before I got it all the way out.

"You had bacon for breakfast Saturday morning, and drank champagne Saturday night . . . need I continue?"

I stopped talking and headed for the car. We had been standing in front of the Atlanta Pet Resort (http://atlantapetresort.com/) where families were walking in and out picking up their pets. In addition to Luky's annoyance at constantly having to shift his Stone Mountain leather overnight bag out of their path, I just didn't like the idea of total strangers hearing a complete list of leftover scents Luky might discover on my clothes.

He immediately plopped into the backseat with no attempt at commuter decorum. Yes, it's good to get back.

Friday, October 28, 2005

Back To 1976?


Time travel was the topic of the last couple of Luky's posts. It's a topic of relatively intense personal interest to both Luky and me for our respective and distinct reasons - and contrary to his normal omniscient tone, I am quite certain that Luky has no more personal experience with it than I do.

For me, it's always been my overall enjoyment of the science fiction genre. Time travel offers a plot device for the generation of so many interesting stories. For Luky, it's more about the scientific and philosophical implications. He continues to pursue the implications, yesterday invoking the "Novikov self-consistency principle" (Luky has increasingly become a fan of Wikipedia entries - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Novikov_self-consistency_principle). He loves conjuring up the endless problems and paradoxes - and then he walks over to his favorite blanket and turns around about three times and plops with an audibly relaxed harrumph into a pile of furry contemplation.

I still like my reasons better. It's like politics and religion - the idea already strains credibility, the last thing we need to do is worry about whether it's true!

Lots of Luky's thoughts and conversations are about deep concepts - too deep, usually, for me. But I happened to ask him yesterday why this time travel thing has occupied him so much this past week. His response kind of surprised me . . . not because it was so deep, but rather because it was so pragmatic (if impractical). He wanted to go back to 1976 to visit Piitok (pronounced "Pee-Tawk") in California.

I was shocked. But it motivated me to go look up a circa-76 picture of Piitok, lying on the red linoleum kitchen floor of our San Leandro Avenue home in Berkeley.

Piitok was a great conversationalist. He was not the philosopher that Luky is, and probably not as good a cosmologist either, but I think he was a better marketer. Man, (or as Luky prefers to rephrase that chauvinistic, not to mention anthropomorphic, exclamation, "Wolf,") I really think Piitok would have loved these media-driven times.

Luky wants to reminisce now, so he's stopped dictating. Needless to say, we'll both check in later.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

Aunt Susan's Visit!

Luky's Aunt Susan stopped by today. She was in town and called to ask us to lunch.

It was wonderful to see her and we had a great visit and conversation. Luky insisted on trying a new neighborhood restaurant, and everything was fantastic until Luky requested a glass of the house chardonnay. Apparently it did not quite live up to his standards. Of course, I asked why he requested the "house" selection if he was going to employ his most demanding palate. He just looked at me as if the question made zero sense.

Aunt Susan's visit brings other things to mind. First, Luky was reminded that it's been a long time since he last saw his cousins, Spanky and Blondie (mentioned in at least one prior post - http://philosopherdog.blogspot.com/2005/09/youd-think-they-were-all-just-dogs.html). We need to pay a visit in the other direction one of these days soon.

However, when we returned to the loft I went back to work and it wasn't until several minutes later that I realized Luky was sitting in front of the mirror, a paw raised in the air, eyebrows askew, glancing side to side as if seeking his own best profile. Yes, Aunt Susan's visit also got him thinking about the approaching family holidays - which means family meals. Luky was already researching, composing and practicing his toasts!

Malamutes! You just can't imagine!

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Luky Does Not Want His Own Show!

Luky embarrassed me yesterday. He had been talking about - with all due respect, "bitches," (that is, the human, quasi-technical term for females of many species, including dogs). Anyway, he coaxed me into mentioning Gracie, the sweet, very "alert," Papillon who lives three doors up the hall. Then, for illustration, he insisted I include the American Kennel Club website picture of a Papillon (http://www.akc.org/breeds/papillon/index.cfm) in his post. Yes - the AKC pic does look like Gracie.

All that would have been fine, and in a couple of days I might have forgotten his overt reference, had we not walked outside last evening and directly up next to Gracie and her brother, Louis. I had to come clean on Luky's blogpost, and then I thought - well, heck, Louis and Gracie's mom might very well log-on and take a look and see that Luky made this reference. Boy, I hope they take no offense. If they do I'm totally blaming you-know-who!

I presume he got a good night's sleep. He's been pretty alert this morning (cool air and modest overcast have something to do with that) and he's got Imus In The Morning tuned in, per usual. (Imus's show is simulcast on radio and MSNBC [http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3036713/] but Luky prefers to watch the TV version so he can find out if Imus is the only one who actually looks like a dog - Luky says he thinks Don Imus is a cross between Collie and Shar-Pei, both can be seen on this page [http://www.akc.org/breeds/breeds_c.cfm].)

It's hard to watch TV with Luky. I rarely get the remote. He's flipping back and forth this morning between Imus and the Science Channel, which was featuring its Mega Science magazine show on the subject of Time Travel - yes, back to where we were a few days ago!

All I can say is, Yikes! Luky wants to keep exploring this topic now because he considers himself prescient. The program literally paraphrased the same question he was asking me - if the laws of physics do not forbid time travel, and mankind (or his wiser, 4-legged companions) survive into the future, then why aren't we seeing the evidence today of time travelers from the future? I will not be surprised, one of these days, when a knock at the front door comes from a Science Channel talent scout hoping to sign Luky as a show host!?!

"No," he says, "not a chance."

"Why? Do you think they would ignore you just because you're a dog?"

"No, that's not it at all. I've already been contacted - did the screen test."

"What!?!"

"Yes. Their terms were simply unacceptable! Three hours in 'make-up' and I wind up looking half-human . . . my fans just wouldn't have it!"

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Evolution Vs Pheromones?


Luky (no, of course that's not him) hasn't been as quiet these past few days as his blog might seem to indicate. The weather is turning - more because of a jet-stream-hitching cool front that moved in from Tennessee than Hurricane Wilma - but no matter the cause a morning temp in the mid-forties is enough to get Luky's blood moving in decidedly NON-philosophical directions. In other words, we're ready to go sniffin' out the bitches!

Hey - by the way - I hope we don't need to apologize for our use of THAT word. After all, it's a genuine term of affection around here, though I must admit that Kiki (Luky's human mom) doesn't appear to appreciate it nearly as much as Gracie, the dainty Papillon who lives a few doors down (yes, the picture upper left - actually from the AKC.org website - might as well be Gracie!).

Other than that Luky was checking out the Science Channel in an effort to discern better ways to apply his scent to the dogpark. I'm not sure what program it was, but I have to admit it had something to do with pheromones. As far as I could tell, however, there were more insects and dinosaurs featured than canines. I've occasionally wondered - when Luky and I were out there in the very early, pre-dawn mornings of Summer - if I had raised my running shorts when he wasn't looking . . . well, heck, I know this whole post is sounding rather uncouth, but I don't mean to be off-color. (I guess I just lack Luky's sophistication.) Anyway, just to finish a thought, it makes you wonder if one animal can throw off another!?!?

It turns out, apparently, some animals can. Don't try it with canines, though. They have high-tech noses, for sure!

We had to switch channels all of a sudden when Luky discovered that C-Span2 was running a presentation by Lawrence Krauss (theoretical physicist, Physics Dept Chairman at Case Western Reserve University, and general renaissance man of scientific frontiers - http://www.phys.cwru.edu/~krauss/krauss.html) on evolution and intelligent design. We didn't get to watch the whole presentation, but he was speaking at the American Enterprise Institute (that is, AEI, a favorite venue for C-Span, and one of the seemingly very rare spots on the planet where you might find an intelligent - or at least an "intelligent" - conservative).

It was interesting. Luky wants to email Krauss for a copy of his powerpoint. But regardless, the whole day turned back into "hey, are we going out to sniff and spray again?" as soon as I opened the hall closet looking for the toolbox. It turns out that's where I keep my walking jacket - the one with the dog biscuits in the left pocket.

Luky said that Krauss's message was extremely important, especially for this science and truth-starved nation. But I guess the origin of species will just have to wait. We're all about reproduction at a much baser level today.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Luky's Already Scared!


It's Oktoberfest at Gordon Biersch in Atlanta and the live band is making Luky want to dance. Kiki is back home from her family helping trip up north and that makes him want to dance also.

I was talking to him about Annie Perlstein again (new picture) and Luky was asking if I thought she would be celebrating Oktoberfest. I told him I figured it was likely. I know Bob and Diane and I figure they will be celebrating Annie's arrival - October, November, December, etc. - so I wasn't really fibbing to Luky.

The thing that Luky has to get ready for, however, is that Annie Perlstein is going to be much smarter than he is. She's part Airedale Terrier. Airedales are very, very smart!

"She's not part wolf, is she?" he asked me.

"No more than you are," I said.

Yes, she's a smart, tough chick. He's already scared!

Friday, October 21, 2005

New Kids & New Homes


Luky was so excited this week when I came back from a meeting with Bob and Diane. They are friends with whom Luky and Kiki and I have traveled some of life's bumpier roads. It can probably be said that we are all going to come out on the other end having survived, learned, reprioritized and generally not too much the worse for wear . . . but that doesn't mean we'd do it again if we had the choice. Luky says some hackneyed clichés are so banal they're almost insensitive. I agree.

However, it must be said that we have also shared some real joys with Bob and Diane! And the newest one in their lives is the addition of Annie Perlstein (pictured) to the family.

We haven't met Annie up-close and personal yet. After all, she's just arriving home as a Perlstein this week! But we are all anxious to get to know her and help welcome her to her new life of love . . . that's one thing to which she can certainly look forward. We know because we know her parents - Bob & Diane!

Luky sends a big lick!!!

And What IS The Color Of Funny?

Luky says he and I don't really have that much in common. I guess I agree with him. I mean, there's the obvious stuff - he's got four legs, a tail and lots of fur as opposed to my two, none and well, less . . . that is, I do have some fur.

On the other hand, we like discussing philosophical concepts. We both like cool weather. And we both have a high regard for truth.

Luky says that last point makes us both unpopular in human circles. I know he's right about that. His lupine friends dig that particular orientation, though I think they get too focused on olfaction and/or ingestion.

Luky says we share one big problem.

"Which is?" I ask.

"Our acritochromacy," he says.

"Look who's been reading the big words book again," I laugh. "What is that?"

"It means we're both colorblind."

"Speak for yourself," I said reflecting on his obvious canine disadvantage.

"Sure, you can see some color," he began analyzing in an authoritative tone, "but you almost certainly have much poorer color vision than I do. Dogs are famous for colorblindness, as you know, but that is only because human scientists don't know how to factor in our recognition of body language."

"Body language gives you a color sense?"

"Sure it does."

"Well, I can see all the colors I need to see," I know I sounded a little defensive.

"Like 'True'?" He didn't even turn to look at me with that question.

"True? 'True' is not a color," I said.

"It is for dogs - just like 'Fear.' Now I know why you don't seem to get as much out of C-Span as I do," his whiskers were twitching like he was about to make a closing argument. "When they show Congress in session you don't see all the bright Reds and Yellows!"

"Give me a break. If you're seeing Red and Yellow congressmen it's probably because our TV hue is out of balance."

"Don't change a thing. I don't want to file a report to the Malamute Times and be mistaking 'Fear' for 'Greed' just because you tweaked a dial that made no difference to you anyway! You could wind up Pink."

"Pink? What's Pink mean?" I said with some reticence.

"Why, 'Hurt,' of course!"

And then he chuckled in that peculiar way that makes his tail look like a pompon. I didn't think it was very funny.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Time For A New Universe?

Yesterday was "time travel day" in Luky's mind. It's a BIG subject, so I suppose I should have expected it to extend another 24 hours.

The thing is, time travel used to be a purely fanciful notion. We could create a time travel scenario without worrying about the messiness of whether or not it would really work, and then we could evaluate plot devices based on their inherent contradictions, or support, given our own little time travel universe.

As Luky says, "after all, the grandfather paradox (see yesterday's post - http://philosopherdog.blogspot.com/2005/10/lukys-been-thinking-about-time-travel.html) doesn't represent any threat in a universe where there are no grandfathers." That's his way of making light of any solution which is supposed to solve the problem with rules of metaphysics - as when someone argues that even if time travel were possible it would still be the case that the immutability of history must remain intact, and therefore you couldn't kill your grandfather no matter how much you might want to. (Neither Luky nor I know anyone so misanthropic or familiacidal, but he thinks that the primary laws of physics would still take precedence. In other words, guns would still shoot, knives would still cut, and anyone killable would still die of terminal injuries. Of course, it's all still speculation.)

The solution, however, according to Luky is multiple universes.

It turns out that multiverses are becoming quite respectable in the scientific communities, and downright vogue among some cosmologists (again, Wikipedia offers a decent overview - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Multiverse).

Some theories hold that not only are there many universes, but there are literally an infinite number of universes (Luky adds, "that is, if ANYTHING can truly be 'literally infinite'"). Anyway, one interesting implication of an infinite number of universes is that every possible universe would exist . . . that is, every imaginable universe - not to mention innumerable unimaginable ones - exist. You see the point of this when you realize that every microsecond of every minute of every day you are doing, seeing, experiencing . . . things that might have been done, seen, experienced slightly differently - in, that is, some separate imaginable universe.

Well, without permitting Luky to interminably bore everybody with his thorough description of how we might conceptualize infinite universes, readers can avoid having to take our words for it by checking out an article by one of the discipline's "seers," Max Tegmark ("Parallel Universes," featured article, Scientific American, May 2003 - http://www.sciam.com/article.cfm?chanID=sa006&colID=1&articleID=000F1EDD-B48A-1E90-8EA5809EC5880000) and/or, check out the "Universe or Multiverse" symposium website (http://www.templeton.org/humble03/part12.html).

Luky especially digs Max's story (http://space.mit.edu/home/tegmark/index.html) because he was apparently recently married to Angelica, another astrophysicist-cosmologist (http://www.theophys.kth.se/old/max/wedding.html). Luky thinks this means that smart people sometimes partner up with smart people - which, I think, he takes to imply that there could be hope for smart dogs. (He's forgotten all about that little trip to the vet back when he was about 7 months.)

Okay, anyway, it is apparently Luky's theory that time travel doesn't have to be a trip within one "scape" (as in "timescape," per his favored term) - like making stops at two different and separate moments within one historical timeline. Luky says that time travel can happen, while at the same time the grandfather paradox is avoided, simply by our traveling to another closely-related parallel universe.

"So," I interrupt his all-too-free cogitations, "you're telling me that when you finally decided to invent your time machine you're not expecting to have any serious troubles with grandfathers because you will not actually be visiting YOUR grandfather, but rather the grandfather of another version of you in another universe?"

"Yes."

"Let's just assume for one minute that I even buy two seconds of your millennial logic-leaping and go along with the notion that you could, well, leave this scape at all . . . why would I have a moment's confidence that you can clock into another - any other - and then, why do you think it might be physically and chronologically related enough for you to even recognize the planet, let alone an age of fashion, language, ideas, and much less your own family tree!?!?"

"Because," he looked at me as if he were surprised by my incredulity, "you don't find the food very far from the kitchen."

"Are you hinting that it's time to eat?"

"That too, but I'm saying that related things are close together - even on the scale of the multiverse."

"Luky, now I'm really lost!"

"Yes, I know. I would suggest that you reset your chronometer, but I think you can trust the same instincts I do."

"Yeah, and what's that?"

"You'll find your way home when you get hungry."

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Luky's Been Thinking About Time Travel

Time travel is a subject that Luky and I both love. He doesn't even fight for the remote when a movie like Twelve Monkeys is showing. However, he thinks too much about the implications.

Everyone is pretty familiar with the clichéd scenario often referred to as the "grandfather paradox," by which some theorists purport to prove the impossibility of time travel because it allows for the absurd circumstance whereby a time traveler goes back in time and gets into a battle with (or by other less intentionally hostile means, kills) his own youthful grandfather (great grandfather, etc.). By so doing the time traveler thus prevents the birth of his father, and thus prevents his own birth - which then means he is not around to go back in time and kill his grandfather in the first place - which then means his father (and subsequently the father's time traveling son) are, in fact, born - which THEN means he is back and able to go back in time and, once again, undo his lineage. (Luky says the grandfather paradox was "invented" by a French Sci-Fi writer, René Barjavel, in a story called, "Le Voyageur Imprudent." He later told me he got this on a tip from Wikipedia - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grandfather_paradox. I think he has tip connections.)

I used to think the absurdity rested in the original problem of a time travler's going back to create events which prevent his ever being born, but it was Luky who alerted me to the somewhat more detailed (and even weirder) idea that it actually creates a ridiculous loop of being and not-being.

Anyway, none of that matters according to Luky. He figures that the question of time travel will eventually get dealt with mathematically, and then (as always happens) in the lab. His big question is this - if our own future entails time travel, then why aren't we being visited by travelers from the future?

I told him this sounded to me like a sort of variation on Fermi's paradox, which is credited to a Los Alamos Lab lunchroom insight by physicist Enrico Fermi during a discussion about alien life (according to the "Cosmic Shooting Gallery" article in the November, 2005, issue of Astronomy Magazine - http://www.astronomy.com/ - requires registration to access online). Basically, Fermi and friends (including Edward Teller, among the more hawkish of the A-Bomb-development-era nuclear scientists), were talking about the plethora of stars and likely planetary systems in our galaxy, let alone the entire universe. And they were talking about the likelihood of other intelligent beings - and as their conversation continued to list the preponderance of favorable statistical data, Fermi just blurts out the quite natural observation - "Where is everybody?"

Luky demands that I insert here a reference to one of his personal heroes, UC Berkeley Professor of Astronomy, Geoffrey Marcy, who, along with partner, Paul Butler, is the most prolific discoverer of exoplanets (i.e., planets orbiting other stars) today. Luky says that Geoff and Paul, and other planet finders, have certainly reinforced the significance and logic of Fermi's question by establishing at least the premise that there are lots and lots of planets out there. (I hope Geoff doesn't mind, but Luky insists I include a link to his personal website - http://astron.berkeley.edu/~gmarcy/.)

Anyway, I told Luky Fermi was basically saying that life ought to be so plentiful, and intelligent life ought to be statistically likely enough, that we have reason to expect them to show up! Luky also says this is just another reason why he never believed in alien visitors - yet - because you've got Fermi, Teller and the brightest minds in science sitting in a lunchroom surrounded by the most expensive and most advanced tools and equipment available, and they are eager to actually meet intelligent travelers from other worlds, but they are disappointed that none have bothered to say "hello." I guess he has a point there.

But back to the time issue. Luky's point kind of works on the same logic. He's suggesting that if we will eventually learn to travel time, and if the scapes exist to permit us to do so, then (barring some unforeseen, ridiculous premise, like we happen to be living in the very first scape) we ought to be meeting a lot of travelers from future scapes already!

I said, "Wait a minute. Aren't you presupposing that we have anything going on now that is interesting enough to motivate someone to come back and visit it, real-time?"

"You might be correct," he said, "but I don't think so. I think this sort of time travel is much more likely than planetary alien visitation. I can understand the argument that aliens who are able to travel the lightyears of space may be too advanced to find us of interest, but if time travel becomes a readily viable technology, then I would think many humans - at least your future historians - would want to visit lots of different eras, just for fact-checking, etc. After all, they know they can predict the necessary tools of culture, fashion, language, etc., which they might need - and it's not like they are visiting a wholly different biochemical creature. They're connected. They have history - it is their history."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Yes, and so I think there can be only a few reasons for not visiting."

"And those would be . . . ?" I asked.

"Well, there's the obvious point that something about the physics of time travel - something we do not yet understand - prevents it. And then there's the possibility that those future travelers - be they vacationers or historians - are already here, and for whatever reasons we cannot see them . . . like maybe they have developed some technology which permits them to visit without having any impact at all (and thus, can visit free of the grandfather paradox). Or, it might be more likely that the sorts of humans you have elected to run your countries have made sure there's no need to worry about the grandfather paradox - before we get to the point of inventing time travel you have uninvented mankind."

"Oh!?!? Well, isn't THAT a cheery thought!?!"

Luky got that distant look - like he was trying to smell the ionosphere. "Yeah, I think you've got it in you - but then again, I would expect some very smart dogs from the future to be showing up now to warn the world's canine population to keep our distance . . . so, maybe you DO survive after all."

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Full Moons & Clear Skies


The best time to enjoy a full Moon (which we officially honored last night, October 17, 2005) is by going to bed early and getting up at 4:00 a.m. on a cool, clear October 18 morning, two hours either side of traffic - the night's chase and noise, as well as the morning commute. Luky was not always tuned to this schedule. Back when he first partnered with me I think he was ready to roam the wild woods and hillsides into the wee hours and then sleep until mid-morning.

So, I credit my human influence as the motivation to change his lifestyle.

Luky and I stood on the hilltop in the dogpark and looked up into the deep clean blackness through which he sailed, fully rigged out, and we talked about his mood. Luky says the reason lupine sense is necessary to figure out what he's feeling is because the Tycho crater looks like a mouth expressing awe - which can also be seen as worry or woe. Luky's idea of what Mr. Moon really looks like in more detail is something like the picture above (he has not yet mastered graphic software so he asked me to approximate the look, though I'm clearly not very good either).

That said, I'm not going to be as acquiescent for the rest of this week - the running in the halls, all the extra tail-wagging and sniffing of grass and plants (notwithstanding a half-dozen new canines in the building) - added to Luky's demand that he be allowed to audit some nuclear physics courses at GA Tech - it's just getting to be a bit too much! The "full Moon" is officially gone for this month and it's time to get back to work.

Luky doesn't get sad. He moves on pretty quick. He's just happy when full Moons are met with clear skies.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Yes, It's Howlin' Time Again

Yes, the Full Moon is back and Luky has again adopted his authoritative position on most everything.

The most pressing thing last night seems to have been Luky's talk with TMITM - you know, "The Man In The Moon." I interrupted the soft howling (which was likely to be giving Luky a stiff neck - so I figure he owes me a thanks despite his expressed annoyance at the time) to joke about how one-sided the conversation seemed to be.

"No," he said with a straight face, "I can hear him."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's all in the expression," Luky tells me.

Of course I pursued that - "Expression? Expression of what? Expression with what?"

So I get the TMITM lecture again. I guess it's all about the Mares - not horses, but seas - as Luky announces every time he says the word, "that's Latin, of course."

The explanation was relatively simple, actually. It turns out, if Malamutes are to be believed (I'll get in trouble for that line) that four of the Moon Maria, which tend to show up for us Earthlings on His "Northeast" face, line up in the appearance of a sad, droopy eye and furrowed brow. Luky identifies them as: Mare Serenitatis (the Sea of Serenity) and Mare Tranquillitatis (the Sea of Tranquility), along with Mare Crisium (the Sea of Crisis) and Mare Fecunditatis (the Sea of Fertility).

Luky says there are great Internet links about the Moon, including NASA's Interactive Lunar Atlas (http://lunar.arc.nasa.gov/science/atlas/menua.htm), which Luky says includes a misspelling of the Latin name of the Sea of Fertility (NASA's site lists "Mare Fecuditatis," when it is really "Mare Fecunditatis"); the Venezuelan ARVAL Observatory has a good site (http://www.oarval.org/MoonMapen.htm); Wikipedia does its usual good job as well (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moon); and there's even a Russian website that does an excellent Moon job (http://www.penpal.ru/astro/map.shtml) from its general Astronomy site (http://www.penpal.ru/astro/).

"Indeed," Luky continued in his most professorial tone, "Mare Fecunditatis is almost a teardrop when He's really sorrowful."

"But you're saying that these geological features - and even worse, geological features when combined with our poor, unaided eyesight through less than perfect hazy atmospheric interference - can create different moods and expressions."

"Yes, that what I'm saying. Even more, they create conversation."

"You've got to be kidding! How can you have a conversation with imprecise geological features 250,000 miles out in Space?"

"How is it you have these philosophical conversations with your dog?"

I just knew he was going to find a way to win this argument somehow!!

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Luky's Pre-Travel Angst

Luky is tired today. He has good reason. At least I know it's good reason - most humans might not think so.

First, we did a sleepover last night at Kiki's. She has urgent family business near D.C. and had to catch a flight today. She needed Luky and me (his official chronicler) to come over and help get her house ready for her absence, as well as help her pack and prepare for the tasks of the week ahead.

Well, Luky is an excellent driver - better than Raymond, and better even than Raymond's younger brother, Charlie . . . though restricted to the loft parking lot and occasionally on the freeway when there are few other drivers (his night vision is significantly better than mine and gives me a chance to nap on long trips).

Okay, please forgive the useless reference to the 1988 Dustin Hoffman / Tom Cruise movie, "Rainman," but Luky regularly uses that line while arguing for his being permitted to apply for a Georgia driver's license. The point I intended to make above was that while traveling (particularly by car) and sleeping in other beds (or on other floors) are not exhausting activities, Luky is wiped out by his own psychological hang-up. Anytime any of his somewhat extended human family (me; Kiki; Kiki's son, "The Prince of Avondale," and others) schedule a trip - even within the greater metro area, but especially via planes, trains and (well, you know what I mean), Luky gets all anxious about his environment. He starts cleaning parts of the loft we haven't looked at in months. He wants to plan parties we aren't even sure we want to host. He pulls out his holiday mailing list and starts preparing his message for Independence Day, Halloween, Christmas, and clearly the most important, October 4th - the Feast Day of St. Francis of Assisi, who died on October 3rd in 1226 (St. Francis being, of course, the patron saint of animals and the environment - http://members.aol.com/JAMIETAMPA/Francis/index2.html).

Anyway, Luky was moving furniture, sweeping, reviewing inbox contents, doing laundry and running around Kiki's house as if it were vital to quickly accomplish tasks he had successfully ignored for weeks . . . and all because Kiki was leaving for a few days. That's what happened yesterday and now he's spread across the floor like a bear rug with a heartbeat. I tried to get him out for a walk and he wouldn't even respond to the sound of the front door, or his leash. I know I can rouse him if I shuffle the contents of the biscuit bowl, but I have to admit he was working real hard. And hey, I've got control of the remote!

Friday, October 14, 2005

Luky Works All Night

I got up early this morning and found Luky pouring through Simon Singh's website (http://www.simonsingh.com/). Luky says he loves this site which is thick with educational and entertaining content. Simon Singh is a writer, lecturer and TV producer who specializes in math and science. He's written many books and articles, including his most recent book, "Big Bang: The Origin Of The Universe," which Luky says is a much easier read than Joseph Silk's similarly titled book, "The Big Bang," now in its 3rd edition.

I noticed he had a book open beside him while he was online and I figured it was Silk's from his comment about comparing the two volumes - but no - it turns out he's leafing through Soren Kierkegaard's "The Concept of Irony," which he says was Kierkegaard's first real philosophical work being that it was his graduate thesis at the University of Copenhagen. Luky really gets weird sometimes . . . and it can be especially strange for me because while I get lost trying to follow him into the depths of his academic pursuits, I still have to carefully explain that every time I reach into my jacket pocket it does NOT mean I'm pulling out a biscuit.

Anytime Luky and I talk about the general topic of media he mentions Don Imus. He says he has a picture of Imus from the time they debated. I checked it out and it does not look anything like the Don Imus with whom I'm familiar - the leathery, irreverent cowboy and crazy hipster interviewer (his 10 gallon hat and wrinkly irascibility are more familiar since 1993 when his "Imus In The Morning" show started simulcasting on MSNBC, but he still refers to himself as a radio personality -http://wfan.com/bios/local_bio_imusdon_html/).

Anyway, Luky's picture looks suspiciously like a horse. Wait a minute . . . come to think of it, maybe it is the same Don Imus.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

The 4-Legged Debaters


A strange thing happened today. Luky and I went out for a later-than-usual walk this morning and we ran into some neighbors - human + canine - who wanted to argue about Luky's lack of restraint (since he was, as is his habit, meandering throughout the small park sans leash). It was too early for me to have my best zingers top of mind, and Luky was too far away to join the debate, but the encounter did get my adrenaline going and probably did more to wake me up than the Mountain Dew I drank in the elevator.

By the time the other party realized that I was way too somnambulant to satisfy his obvious desire for a challenging shout, let alone actual fisticuffs, Luky was sitting at the curb waiting patiently for me to get with the program and head back to the loft. I told him what had happened and he simply adopted his intense lack-of-interest expression and scanned the street as if to suggest that I was NOT doing my job.

The whole incident reminded me of the time that Luky got into the debate with Clementine. Clementine was a donkey that lived in a horse stable we used to frequent (that was back when Luky's first human mom, Dooda, was here and she was - and presumably still is - a committed "horse girl"). Luky loved visiting the stables with her and hanging out, meeting the horses, and especially debating with Clementine.

Humans just have no idea about the philosophical prowess of animals. Most humans would simply never believe the degree of Luky's interest in Kierkegaard, or the Existentialists. And they certainly wouldn't expect Clementine to be able to discuss phenomenology like she did . . . at least that's what Luky says.

I was glad I found the photo (above) we captured of the two of them in deep disagreement over Sartre! It makes me wonder if our pugilistic neighbor could keep his footing in THAT debate.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Truth & Advertising?

Luky's thoughts were pretty heavy yesterday. I guess that was my fault. I had the Supreme Court on my mind and kept bugging him for his opinion. As usual, his interpretation was that we humans are going to select people, places, directions, positions, and so on, regardless of whether they are true or verifiable. And when truth and verifiability are completely out of reach we are likely to create justifications for them anyway.

It's frustrating talking to him sometimes. It's all about truth . . . and when truth cannot to be determined he still opts for truth by admitting that such-and-such is his opinion, but "he doesn't know if it's true." There's no use arguing with him about it. He always wins because he never really tries to get me to believe something that can't be proved.

"What fun is that?" I ask. "Most of the wars, barroom brawls, mayhem and nonsense in the world is based on ME trying to get YOU to believe something which I can't prove."

He just doesn't bite! "If it can't proved," he says, "that doesn't mean it's not true - it just means you can't know it to be true. So argue whatever you want, but unless you enjoy being a deceiver, or maybe a liar - which only means you have reason to suspect other than you speak - you simply have to admit it when you are arguing something as fact for which you actually have no proof."

Damn - I hate it when he makes so much sense . . . especially since I make my living from advertising!!

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Current Events

Luky has not written or dictated a blog entry for a few days. He wasn't being lazy - he was just preoccupied. For one thing, the weather turned and after a month-long mini-drought with a dose of Atlanta blistering heat the sky mottled and delivered a couple of days of cooling rain. Luky was very excited about that.

He's actually a precipitation wimp when it comes to rain - his ears go sideways and his tail tucks in like he's trying to protect any openings from getting wet. Oooo - look out - here comes a raindrop!

However, it's been so hot and dry that we both welcomed the chance to stand under the sprinkle, sans umbrella or slicker. The only downside is that he is forced to wait at the loft door for me to grab a towel and give him a wipe down before he crosses the threshold. I wouldn't care so much but those are HIS rules!

And then yesterday Luky wasn't feeling well. It turns out it was nothing serious, but he was moving slow and taking it especially easy.

I've given him a bit of a hard time about it because so much has been happening. I can't believe his fans aren't waiting for his opinion - new Supreme Court nominees, earthquakes, the globe warming before our eyes, Karl Rove back at the grand jury - all kinds of stuff. However, Luky's desire to engage anyone on such topics is extremely limited. He makes that clear as soon as I start listing them - he turns his head to the side and looks off in the distance (even if "the distance" is the barstool maybe a tail's length away - he feigns the look of scanning some far off glacial embankment for signs of prey).

"Okay, I get it, you don't care about Harriet Meiers. But what about abortion?"

I realize this is a loaded question for Luky - he's keenly aware that dogs are routinely aborted and euthanized at the whim of human disposition. On the other hand, he's not so lupomorphic that he doesn't recognize humans might have different values from canines and wolves. The problem with Luky (and I suppose this is true of all dogs and wolves) is that he generally distinguishes between knowable truths and everything else.

"Once you consider the obvious inconsistency," he says, "that humans are in the habit of creating lives they don't want; and perhaps worse, that the voices which come out loudest against treating those lives as 'unwanted' (i.e., by abortion) are the same voices that are most strident against educational programs which might teach about the making of life in the first place . . ."

"You always lose me when you start talking clinically," I say.

"In other words, the humans who are always screaming about abortion are typically the same ones who don't want you teaching sex education. And that sort of philosophical self-contradiction always leads to idiotic consequences."

"Okay, let's say I agree with you up to that point. The problem is, regardless of the idiocy that gets us here, we have to deal with the fact that lives are ready to come into the world and some of those are unwanted. That's where I think, as the saying goes, the rubber meets the road."

Luky snarls slightly and says, "No - that's just one of the real problems, there are too few Rubbers - meeting the road or otherwise." And then he lets out one of his chuckles in his peculiar lupine manner.

"That's when," he continues, "you (he means 'humans') typically try to determine the point at which a fetus actually becomes a unique puppy . . . I mean, human being. And the problem is your courts, your churches, your political parties, and all the other social groupings of mankind are lacking the humility to admit you do not know. To the contrary, you decide you can make that determination in advance of, and irrespective of, science."

"So, what are you saying? . . . that our laws should start out with a clause like, 'We don't know for sure, and we want the opportunity to change our minds if we discover differently in the future, but for right now we think that . . .'?"

"Heck no," Luky says. "You don't want law to start honoring truth at this late date!"

Thursday, October 06, 2005

The Mushroom Sandwich

Luky loves the story of the Mushroom Sandwich. It's a Kiki story (remember Kiki is Luky's new "human" mom - he introduced her in the post about the Blue Heron: http://philosopherdog.blogspot.com/2005/09/great-blue-yonder-heron.html).

"Mushroom Sandwich" is a great story. It's not my story, and Luky doesn't narrate it any better than me so we might take some unintentional liberties in the telling, but it goes something like this.

Kiki was fresh out of school and looking for work in Knoxville. Like many young, single, degree-in-hand, soon-to-be career-ladder-climbers, she was doing whatever she could to pay the bills while scanning the horizon for the dream job. She lived alone but shared visions of independence with a best girlfriend from work who lived in a small, Smoky Mountain foothill cottage east of town. Luky says they must have been the "country" version of Laverne & Shirley.

Now, anyone not familiar with Tennessee must understand (at least accept) that it is a definite split personality state - and with regard to almost everything - politics, history (especially the Civil War), literacy, certainly football, cool (as in "hipness"), as well as cool, as in "weather." To be specific, Knoxville can be a very southern town, and it can also be a pretty northern town.

Mushroom Sandwich is a story of Knoxville in one of its particularly northern moods. It turns out, the story goes, that Kiki and her best girlfriend had scheduled a movie slumber party for a Friday night. They drank wine, ate popcorn and laughed and cried through sappy romance comedies into the wee hours. (Luky says they probably watched "Snow Dogs" - as brilliant as he is philosophically, he just doesn't have any sense of Hollywood chronology.)

Anyway, when the room filled with the radiance of a million rising Suns reflected off billions of ice crystals the two girls looked out the window to see there would be no Saturday sports bar hopping, no shopping . . . indeed, no excursions to anywhere . . . for the rest of the weekend. They were completely snowed in and nearly buried. And, if that weren't bad enough, they were still vexed with that youthful, post-college-dorm, total-lack-of-prep mindset where the baking of a cake usually implied running to the store three times for overlooked ingredients . . . in other words, there wasn't the first can of soup in storage!

Luky shudders at this point of the story. He never actually knows when we run out of Nutro, but the thought of our dog food cupboard going bare is enough to give him nightmares.

The only food in Kiki's friend's house was a half loaf of bread, some butter and a package of mushrooms. They must have had electricity, but the snow banks were over the roof . . . and since they were marooned outside the normal paths of commerce where plows and snow removers would defer to the Sun to make the roads passable, an overnight slumber party became a marathon weekend. At first with some concern which diminished with the warming sky and melting snow, they spent the weekend watching TV, talking and living on grilled mushroom sandwiches.

Years later, after the anxiety of the blizzard weekend's exile had softened, the predominant memory seems to be one of joy. And from what Luky and I can tell, that precise feeling is most effectively recalled with the smell of grilled mushroom sandwiches.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Best, Good Friends

Luky's excited again. I just had to give him a big smooch on the nose from his uncle Jack - "Mr. Jack," Luky calls him.

Mr. Jack is one of our (Luky's and mine) close friends - a "best, good friend," as Forrest Gump would say. And Mr. Jack always ends our conversations with the request that I give Luky a big smooch right on the nose. So, naturally, whenever I do that, Luky knows I've been talking to Jack.

Since I take pleasure in complying with Mr. Jack's requests, one might conclude it's a darn good thing he only asks me to kiss Luky's nose!

Luky is harrumphing as I write this. I can tell he's imagining some other gesture . . . No, there's no use conjuring a perverse nightmare about it - believe me, if it were up to Luky it would still be the same old smooch but with a biscuit after!

Luky Likes Poetry About The Moon

Luky gets lonely when the Moon is new. He can't wait for the 17th. I tried to explain that, to me at least, the Moon looks a lot lonelier when he's full.

Luky wanted to argue that point but I reminded him I had once put my notion into a poem. Of course, none of Luky's favorite astronomy or cosmology mags would ever publish it, but I liked. And since he likes the Moon so much he decided he would reconsider his position. Then he asked me to put it into his blog.

Neither of us are poets, of course, but we're both more excited to see tonight's Episode 3 of COSMOS.

I Thought I Was Lonely Until I Spoke To The Moon
copyright 2002

I thought I was lonely last night . . .
but I wasn't.
I stepped outside, away from the light,
and looked up.
A black, cold, cloudless, Winter night
invited me to try - to try to see to the end,
discover the edge . . .
and barring that, to find a friend.

That's when I first saw his tears . . .
a lonely moon in universal night.

For a moment I was confused . . .
Moon - my friend?
. . . beacon to romance, to love,
for love's hearts to find one another . . .
and beat together.

That's when I saw him crying . . .
. . . perhaps for the first time,
I saw the depths of his loneliness.

"But isn't this the price one pays," I asked . . .
"for living? for trying? for not giving in?"

He motioned over his shoulder
and I was exhausted with the vision . . .
scenes of joy and sharing . . .
families, love, hopes, plans, and futures . . .

There was Mars,
spreading his bright red blanket
for a party of three.
Deimos and Phobos spilled their wine
and kissed each other's shadows,
scratching the ground in reckless desire . . .
while Mars would only brighten
to show off the lovers.

Jupiter was in celebration . . .
four, 16, 47, 63 . . .
kids and cousins darting and dodging,
playing hide and seek from the bloodshot eye
above the blue and white cotton.

Saturn was a circus . . .
where the merry-go-round was full in flight,
and 30 or more screaming friends
shouted and played, and ran along side.

Uranus reserved a private field . . .
a family reunion of 20 or 21 . . .
and all of the children stood on their heads,
turning cartwheels - end over end over end.

While Neptune was quiet . . .
maybe not as social,
he was not angry - only blue . . .
and tucked beneath his icy breast
twirled his own collected brood
of eleven - safe this side of the nearing darkness.

And the rebellious youngster, Pluto . . .
. . . whose child is this, anyway?
. . . poking sticks into the perimeter fence,
beyond which there is only the stillness,
without citizens,
without porchlights and welcomes.
He is a toddler,
testing the edge of mom's apron lace . . .
too scared to crawl a step further out,
too proud to return to the hearth's embrace!
And even he plays chase with friend, Charon,
from a suburban neighborhood.

I looked back at Moon . . .
"Oh my, I had no idea . . .
I thought I was a lonely one . . ."

My thoughts of pity would not help . . .
never again . . .
my old friend,
loneliest sentry of the night . . .

No wonder I never catch him smiling.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Sonia's Home!

Yesterday was a big day for Luky. As brilliant a philosopher as he is, I have to occasionally recall that he is only - well, not even - eight years old. So, I guess, his memories of "puppyhood" are fresh - unlike humans, who might retain accurate childhood memories but usually find themselves forced to cover more distance with them than dogs.

Anyway, Luky's puppyhood memories were explosively and wonderfully jolted yesterday when Sonia came to visit.

Luky spent much of his puppyhood at Canine Academy (he placed the Canine Academy link into the sidebar so it would always be accessible) . . . and Canine Academy has always had a wonderful staff of workers and teachers and dog-friends. Well, one of Luky's favorites of all time was Sonia Fuller.

Sonia left Atlanta for Idaho almost a year ago, but lucky for us (me and Luky both) she decided that she would come back home. She's a fantastic and creative person who is now looking for a job back in Atlanta. Luky says that the U.S. Government statistics don't count nearly half of the unemployed people (for lots of top-spin reasons that he won't go into now), so even though he has a lot of faith in Sonia he agrees that times are tough.

But when Sonia came to visit yesterday and walked into the loft - well, it was all about "welcome home! Welcome home!" I'm glad he has paws sans opposable thumbs - and can only use the computer (and occasionally the phone, and remotes, and sometimes the frig and microwave oven), and doesn't know how to mix martinis or we'd have a serious hangover today because he was definitely ready to celebrate!

Luky Loves "A Boy And His Dog"

Luky wanted to watch BookTV, of course, but today's aptly named "Peachtree Thunder" parade of motorcycles riding down the street under our window (to raise money for the March of Dimes) made it difficult for him to concentrate. So he allowed me to turn on Sci-Fi.

He had chosen last night's movie anyway - which I went along with because his choice was "A Boy And His Dog," the 1975 post World War IV "story of love and trust between family members of different species." No, that's not the movie's official description - it's Luky's.

"A Boy" has become a cult classic film (whatever that term means) featuring a young and quite excellent-in-the-part, Don Johnson as "Vic" (the co-star). I like Susanne Benton who plays "Quilla June Holmes," a fresh-faced, wet-lipped, young seductress sent to provide understandable motivation for Vic to descend into the "Down Under" - not Australia, believe me. The movie also stars Jason Robards, but Don Johnson has to be listed HERE as "co-star" because the star is, of course, HIS DOG, "Blood."

Anyway, this morning's choice to out-volume the street rumble was "2010," and that made Luky consider the original film, "2001: A Space Odyssey," which he decided to compare with "A Boy."

Initially I could not figure out what the heck he was talking about - but typical of Luky he was thinking about two or three levels beyond normal conversation. I was considering plots, actors, action, sets, dialog - you know, things by which we normally judge movies - but he was off in deeeep left field.

There followed an entire dissertation about the earlier days of science fiction film when, regardless of how subtle and clever the story (Luky is a Harlan Ellison fan), films had to be made, as always, for viewing by circa audiences of the lowest common denominator. He says that while Sci-Fi films make for our best social art form because, while they avoid the boundaries and limitations of reality (which he qualifies as present day understanding of physics, technology and biological truth) they can thus better illustrate our fears, hopes, dreams and possibilities. We get to visit, in his words, all the "what ifs." I assume he means mainly human what ifs, but we were both enthusiastic about Blood's role.

Anyway, Luky says that in the earlier days of Sci-Fi we could not trust that audiences would understand all the necessary contexts of the story to grasp subtle references. That's why the action and dialog has to be so overt. Symbolic movies, like "2001," had to announce the impending delivery of their symbolism so the audiences could keep up. And movies with brutal ironies like those of "A Boy And His Dog," typically warned that something brutal was about to happen, or reinforced that something ironic just did.

He generally leaves Sci-Fi to me and turns to BookTV or the Science Channel, but as long as we were on the subject he did agree that current Sci-Fi movies are better than most of the old ones. His point is, not only do we now know more about the subjects treated by Sci-Fi - and thus can write and produce more truthful and accurate stories - and further, not just because our movie-making technologies permit us to create very cool and realistic special effects that bring to near-life things we were forced to pitifully imitate in the 50's and 60's, etc. . . . no, Luky says it's because audiences are wiser and hipper to Sci-Fi now. The movies are better because the elements of better movie making can be incorporated without fear of losing viewers.

"And so - what does this have to do with me and my choice of movies - you know, like 'Starship Troopers' . . . geez, when are they going to make another sequel to that?"

Luky looked at my hands and then at the coffee table where my pen and pad lay. He was hinting that I should take notes, of course. I hate it when he does that!

"Oh, nothing," he said, and slowly pushed his front paws out to lie down and look at me as if he wanted to show is disappointment in my intellectual curiosity.

"Hey, I said I liked 'Blood' . . . you know, and the way Blood helped his BOY in that movie last night, didn't I?"

Luky just smiled and let out a long sigh.
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