Wittgenstein-Daily-Rants?

Luky was not as loquacious this morning as usual, but he made a strange statement that sent me to my bookshelf. In the end, I sort of understood what he was saying - but, then again, I suppose it's one of those eye-of-the-beholder things.

Luky says that Wittgenstein - e.g., The Blue and Brown Books, Philosophical Investigations, etc. - would have made a great blogger.

Thermometer Or Love-Meter?

I'm not sure where he finds it - maybe at Barnes & Noble, or via his online subscription to the UC Berkeley library - but Luky has been quoting the journal, Nature, a lot lately. He's all for global warming because, as he suggests, the runaway ice melt will throw the entire planet back into an ice age, which in turn, will likely benefit his Lupine clan. I think he has visions of Malamutes inheriting the Earth.

Still, regardless of whether we're on his side or not, when I double checked his sources I found that, sure enough, scientists say the Greenland ice sheet is losing ice at the rate of about 50 cubic kilometers (about 12 cubic miles) per year.

He was really all over the topic this morning. The whole nuclear pack (Luky, me, Mom-Kiki and Prince Gabe) watched Eight Below last night. While the bipedal among us cried through about 90% of the movie, Luky just sat in front of the TV and smiled, and occasionally rolled over on his side expecting extra tummy rubs - as if any actor-dog performance of note should naturally translate into affection for the resident canine.

The long story short is, he wound up getting at least 10 Milk Bones more than normal!

However, I do have to admit - we ran into one of his fan club members on the street a month or so ago and she asked if I'd seen Eight Below. At that time I had not. All she said was, "Well, when you see it, it will just make you love your dog even more than you already do." I figured - NO WAY. He's a know-it-all, but we already love each other as much as possible!!!

Well, he's been giving me these looks all day - between his pronouncements of man's treatment of Planet Earth. He knows . . . even if our thermometer shows him warm and toasty, he moved a notch ahead of me on the "love meter" last night . . . and the rest of the pack is not too embarrassed to show it.

Luky, Me & Carl Are On The Same Page!

Luky was reading a review of Richard Dawkins's The God Delusion online this morning. I was working on a crossword puzzle in the New York Times Magazine while he was mumbling to himself. I would occasionally hear a term like "Meaning," "Belief," "Religion," and other of the words I regularly hear him mulling over and blowing through his whiskers. I wasn't paying much attention.

It was a relatively calm morning, and his excitement at finding a few inspiring things on the web didn't really change it much, but he insisted that I share them just the same.

First, he says Dawkins's website (http://richarddawkins.net/) is full of entertaining and educational links. He pointed me to an article excerpt from the book which we were able to share - online and off, as it were - since it appeared in print in my Sunday morning NYT.

Luky and I agree that Dawkins appears to be an unabashed atheist, but we also agree that, if we understand the meaning of the word, "atheist," then we feel it is a pretty severe position to take regarding the existence of something for which we also admit we have no evidence. In other words, since we can neither prove - nor disprove - the existence of God, Luky and I don't want to deny that He exists. As Luky says, "Hey, what if He's there?"

Well, as Luky read the article out loud he came across a paragraph that Dawkins pulled from long-time Luky hero, Carl Sagan which Sagan wrote in his book, Pale Blue Dot: A Vision of the Human Future in Space,

"How is it that hardly any major religion has looked at science and concluded, 'This is better than we thought! The Universe is much bigger than our prophets said, grander, more subtle, more elegant'? Instead they say, 'No, no, no! My god is a little god, and I want him to stay that way.' A religion, old or new, that stressed the magnificence of the Universe as revealed by modern science might be able to draw forth reserves of reverence and awe hardly tapped by the conventional faiths."

When Luky finished reading that paragraph he raised his head from the computer and I put down my pen. Luky and I were across the room, engaged in two completely different media . . . but we were definitely on the same page!

GOP Costumes?

Luky is getting geared up for Halloween again. Last year he wanted to go as a great white shark - Carcharodon carcharias of the family Lamnidae - according to American Heritage Dictionary (http://www.bartleby.com/61/). He came up with that because our friends at that time, Hitch and Cole, and their human pack-mates, Scott and Robin, thought Luky's seal grey coloring looked a little shark-like . . . at least as much as a dog can look shark-like.

I've since convinced Luky - it wasn't hard - that sharks . . . even great whites . . . do not match the awesome, fearsome appearance to your average everyday Wolf. He accepted my assessment and walked off shaking his head, obviously flattered but not wanting to admit it.

He really got me the other day, though! He said the one thing he knew for sure was that he couldn't go as any sort of classic humanoid monster. Clearly, this was a call to debate, and I can't help but step right in!

"You mean there's no humanoid costume you'd consider wearing for Halloween?"

"No. At least, not the fun, scary monsters of books and movies. Humans have evolved beyond those creatures when it comes to fear!"

"Wait a minute . . . you wouldn't even consider dressing as some of the most venerable monsters of all time - I mean, think about it . . . like, not even Frankenstein or Dracula?"

"No way! Not scary!!!"

"Hey," I said, thinking I might surprise him with a direction he hadn't considered, "what about something slimy and oozy, like that Creature From Beneath The Sea, or perhaps something dusty and moldy, like The Mummy?"

"Nope. Not even close to monstery enough for these days!" He snorted.

Then it hit me - what was I thinking? Of course . . . "Yo," I called to him, "what about The Wolfman?"

Luky actually stopped for a second. I could tell he was really thinking about it. Indeed, how could he deny the Wolfman?

"Well, maybe . . ." he kept thinking, and then really blew me away. "Nope. Not enough. That just doesn't match up to the heights of terror at which we arrived in these past few years," he said with confidence.

"Really?" I asked him. "Why not even the Wolfman?" I asked, now at a loss.

"Haven't you been paying attention?" he responded. "All those humanoid monsters are so meager now compared to the real-life horrors you've got running around your Congress and White House - I just don't see how you can expect to scare anybody with movie monster make-up."

"Congress? The White House?" I had not expected him to get newsworthy on me.

"Sure. I mean, I hate to sound too caught up in the day-to-day of mankind, but I'm sorry . . . unless you've got a mask of Mark Foley, or Tom Delay, or Dick Cheney, or Rumsfeld - or, maybe creepiest of all - your Little Bush Pup, I can't imagine how anyone is going to believe there's a real chance of getting tricked!"

Damn . . . I hate it when he makes that much sense!

A Wolf For Peace

Luky and I were watching David Attenborough's The Life Of Mammals on The Science Channel the other morning while waiting for Imus to show up on MSNBC. The Mammals episode was called "Meat Eaters," and it was all about carnivores, focusing specifically on big cats and canids . . . most particularly - of course - the Wolves. Well, the whole thing got Luky to expressing a connection with his more primal roots . . . talking to the TV set and walking around in circles shaking his head, and pawing his rug any time a pack scene ensued.

Imus came on and I figured Luky would settle down. Not so that morning. The Mammals show started him on a cradle-of-life mindset and that eventually got him thinking about his first mommy, Dooda.

Dooda moved to Nashville a couple of years ago, and has since begun to expand the pack with new family relations. She still comes back to visit on occasion; plus, Luky says Dooda is upholding the Wolf spirit. She's doing that with her new husband, Joe, as the two of them are headed back to Africa for Peace Corps duty. They've both been there before . . . the accompanying picture is Dooda shopping with Guinean friends in Conakry where she became known as "the Bob Marley Lady" as a result of her personal soundtrack.

Luky says she won't be able to hear him howl from all the way over there. He has only the most rudimentary sense of global geography, but he knows Africa is further than his call will carry.

I told him that she might not hear him literally, but she would know he's thinking of her.

I could tell by the look in his eyes he agreed with that. He dropped onto his rug with a sigh of satisfaction and then looked up at the TV screen filled with Don Imus under a cowboy hat the size of a small umbrella. Luky snorted a chuckle and gave me a look. He was back with our morning program, but somehow it felt slightly less important.

Citizen Canine!

As I've said before, Luky is not much for politics. When I finally did get him started a few weeks ago he told a long story about a pup Wolf who wound up becoming a leader just because his father had been. The long and short of that story was that smart Wolves don't always have smart pups, and a dumb pup of a smart Wolf may well be a worse leader than your average canine simply because lots of other power hungry dogs hang around the pup in order to take advantage of his last name! I'm not sure if Luky meant for his story to reflect on today's world but it had an eerie familiarity to it that worried me a bit.

The more recent events have left most of my friends confused. I told Luky that it always seemed strange that the party of life was the primary supporter of the death penalty and automatic weapons . . . but it really makes no sense when the writers of our laws are the people who wish to exploit them - like the current news on contemptible Congressmen, not to mention an energy policy written by oil companies, or bankruptcy laws written by credit card banks.

Luky says hypocrisy is a human thing. He shakes his head and licks his nose and says, every Wolf is a Citizen Canine . . . and there no Citizen Kanes!

From what I can tell he comes from a far more just and honorable world than the one we live in!

Luky's Class Would Appeal To Dora

Well, I did my normal eight and a half miler with long-time philosophy and Meaning-Of-Life buddy, JC, Saturday morning, and I spent the next 24 hours downing Alka Seltzer and Advil. Luky has been giggling at me the whole time.

The one moment of ego gratification came when JC and I were passed by a cyclist, Dora. She stopped and turned to wait for us. As we ran up she called out, "So this must be your philosophical friend, Herb" . . . by the way, the whole pack calls me "Herb."

It turns out that Dora took one of JC's Evening At Emory (http://www.cll.emory.edu/eate/index.cfm) classes. JC has taught courses on various topics including "The Meaning Of Life," "Bob Dylan," and an all-time Emory favorite, "Meeting Of The Minds," (http://www.cll.emory.edu/classes.cfm?cla=-1395494079), which he teaches with a partner, Patti Wood. Apparently, it was in a recent Meaning Of Life class where Dora heard reference to our Saturday morning, decibel-pushing, full-contact and highly aerobic philosophical discussions, during which JC and I disregard the quiet of the forest trail and attack the important topics of life - Meaning, Purpose, God, Free Will, Ethics, Society, Atheism - at the top of our lungs.

I know that Luky is secretly proud of me . . . not for my effort to stay fit, but rather for my continual effort to get to the bottom of things, in spite of whatever toll it may take on my muscles and oxygen uptake.

He was also thoroughly amused by the Dora story, but insists that she would find his teachings more intriguing that either mine or JC's. Luky has given up instruction and now reserves himself to only a few graduate students, one-on-one, so I couldn't help but ask what he meant by his teaching reference. He made some comment about her seeking "a good class" and I could tell we were headed into a horrible pun, so I did not respond. Still, he's probably right!

Skye Always Wins

Luky has been exercising his social skills of late. For one thing, he's been doing sleepovers as if he were simply the coolest Wolf in town with his own monogrammed duffel - actually, his bag is identified by only a few paw marks and is pretty much limited to hauling a few day's worth of biscuits, but he still thinks it's cool!

But his sleepovers have not been strictly Avondale Estates and the Lake House of mom-Kiki and Prince Gabe. He's become an explorer of the vast suburban wilderness.

First, like all the pictures in his blog, the one at the top of this post is included per Luky's specific request. Skye - formally known as "Skye Ayres" - is a seven year old Border Collie and resident of Marietta . . . like I say, Luky is now the suburban sophisticate, hanging with friends in metro-land WAY outside the city limits.

It turns out that Skye's mommy, Beverly, is a quasi-tennis-pro, graphic genius who happens to also be a best friend of Luky's mom-Kiki! And thus, when Luky decided to eat a tennis ball of his own - then necessitating its removal via the super scalpelling of Dr. Will (see Luky's Wednesday, September 6 post, regarding the Village Vets - http://www.thevillagevets.com/), it was only natural that a portion of his recovery might include a sleepover with Skye and Beverly . . . I'm sure it was "please, keep the racquets down" all night!

Well, joke as we might, there were a few days there when the rest of the pack was away . . . hunting, of course. Luky has his favorite kennels, for sure, but in this instance we all agreed he might require a bit more oversight. So, Bev and Skye came to the rescue.

Yes, I said "Border Collie." Well, Skye was very generous with her home and yard, but the real reason she wants Luky to come back is because she likes to win . . . and while Luky does a great job of lying around watching The Science Channel and reading Wittgenstein, when it comes to running, playing, and anything close to breathing hard - let alone chasing things like tennis balls and Frisbees - he's one hundred and twenty pounds of "is it okay if I just sit here and watch?" Skye won every game!

Skye says, "You have an open invitation, Luky. And don't worry about equipment - I've got everything we'll need for you to watch!"

Babs For Brunch!

Luky loves Sunday brunch. Weather doesn't always permit it, but his favorite Sunday brunch spot is outdoors at Babs (www.babsmidtown.com).

Babs - with no apostrophe - doesn't even open for dinner so maybe that's a hint that their breakfast and lunch menus are pretty darn good! Well, for what it's worth, Luky is not the only pack fan of Babs. Luky's mom, Kiki, and I love it also. Prince Gabriel probably digs it, too, but he prefers pizza so the whole concept of brunch leaves him tepid at best, but the fact is Luky's entire pack has become Babs advocates!

Hey, we live in Atlanta. Not only that, our primary pack territory is midtown. We are surrounded by fantastic restaurants, so it's not unusual for us to acquire a few favorites. The thing is we have so many worth recommending we simply do not bother. So, for Luky to request a specific mention of Babs ought to, and truly does, indicate something special.

The menu is simple. The staff is fantastic. The cost is reasonable. The service is wonderful, and the ambience is super - including the fact that canines are welcome. It's not a French café where you will find yourself sitting next to a panting poodle with bad breath, but there's an animal-friendly outdoor patio, complete with complimentary water bowls and even an occasional waiter-delivered Milk Bone! Wow, what more could be hoped for?

Well, for starters, a great selection of wine, beer and champagne! Excellent deserts! And a general sense of humor and community among the staff and waiters that Luky swears must be partly Lupine because, according to him, you cannot train humans to be joyous. He's probably right.

Anyway, should any human - and especially a human with a canine companion - gets close to 814 Juniper Street in Atlanta, zip 30308, Luky highly recommends a breakfast, lunch or brunch at Babs. And the rest of Luky's pack does, too!

Teamwork Is Self-Destructive

Luky has many theories about a wide range of things - some are very scientific and/or mathematical, some are social or political, and still others are aesthetic - but, of course, they are all highly philosophical! Most of his theories he shares openly, but I've learned that he prefers to keep some of his theories to himself. Regarding these closely held concepts, he simply tends not to volunteer information or introduce the topic for debate; but recently, and quite by accident, I discovered one of his private theories. I guess it fits into the category of sociology, and has to do with mankind's overall success on the planet.

Of course, Luky thinks that all humans fall short of Wolves when it comes to philosophical acuity, but the other day I accidentally gave him reason to describe his views of our naturally antithetical manner which he apparently considers well nigh to self-destructive. We were walking the territory - which is completely surrounded these days by rampant construction and midtown improvement projects - and I found myself attempting to mask my disgust at the noise and dust with some euphemistic spin regarding the ubiquitous traffic snarls, communication interruptions, utility disconnects, and so on. I simply commented that my species certainly is quite creative and productive - you know, skyscrapers, cities, transportation systems, airplanes, space exploration, the fine arts, the pushing of boundaries toward a better understanding of the origin and evolution of the universe, of life, etc. Luky was casually sniffing through the BellSouth hedges and looked up.

"It's a miracle," he said.

"Well, it's pretty amazing, but I'm not sure it's miraculous," I answered, somewhat startled that he was even paying attention.

"No," he responded quickly, "it's a miracle. It's a miracle that you survive to accomplish it."

I can always tell when his sniffs and snorts turn sarcastic, so while I was not sure where he was headed with this train of thought, I knew he had something all too clever in mind! He started blithely scenting the next row of bushes, but his head wagging strut was a clear signal he wanted to elaborate and expected me to ask for his opinion. At these times it hardly matters what I think, I have to play along . . . if only to find out if he might actually have a new lesson he has not shared previously. It's very difficult to have an intellectual snob for a pet sometimes!

"Yes, I suppose some of these jobs are very dangerous," I replied.

"I don't mean dangerous jobs," he said, completely taking the bait. "I'm talking about your inability to work as a team while you do teamwork things."

"I hate to admit it, but I'm lost." This time I wasn't pretending.

"Ninety percent of your - and by 'your' I mean mankind's . . ." Luky doesn't have to explain his use of 'your' but he sometimes tends to treat me like a total idiot. "Ninety percent of your progress is due to humans working together, and yet when humans work together they tend to vie with each other for attention within the group. You've lost your ability to work as a pack and to test and respect pack hierarchies the way we Wolves do. The result is when humans work in groups there's almost always one or more individuals who weaken or destroy the progress and achievements of the group by their attempts to undermine or discredit the work of other individuals. In their greed or attempt to appear as commendable team members they will harm the general team's efforts."

"That's a pretty loose and nebulous concept. Do you have any specific examples?"

"Well, there's your music industry."

"I'm sorry . . . the music industry?"

"Yes, we Wolves comment on it all the time. It is rife with individuals, or small groups of individuals, who literally attack other individuals in an effort to appear more vital, influential and necessary. And in the end, their actions only serve to undermine the fabric of the industry itself."

"Why aren't any negative effects simply attributable to aesthetic choice on the part of consumers, or perhaps the differences in basic business acumen between one entity and another?"

"Well, that's probably true in some cases, but your music industry is among the best examples of an environment where the ever-dwindling prospects for growth are constantly undermined by the legal attacks and entanglements perpetrated by individuals and small groups in their short-term and short-sighted exploitation of archaic laws."

"Damn," I exclaimed, "I had no idea you had such strong feelings on this topic."

"No, not really strong feelings. It's just become a frequent Lupine joke."

"A Lupine joke?"

"Well, after all, that example describes an industry wherein humans work to destroy each other while generally attempting to monetize your own poor efforts to howl like Wolves."

I was about to vehemently argue Luky's reference when, at that very moment, the sounds of midtown construction were drowned out by thumping and screaming noises from a passing compact car. The driver must have replaced back seats with speakers, and I couldn't tell if it was Hip-Hop or Heavy Metal. Regardless, all energy was drained from my planned response and it was no use arguing further. Luky was just smiling at me from between the blooms of two Fall Azaleas.