Cui bono?

W e're on our way. The Great Attractor won't be denied—so we might as well enjoy the ride—I'll make no promise to meet you on the other side. Please humor me and allow me to digress. Forever dancing on the edge of oblivion, as we commiserate with life long past and life that's soon to pass, because nothing ever lasts. Oh that is so resplendent, 'tis a shame you can't wear it as a pendant—never knowing how long your body will extend its autonomous, finite fight to "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." Quotations are insufficient to console such a loss. Tears will flow, even then, at any cost, and we may ask ourselves: "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them?" Did even William Shakespeare know?

A s a young child, I remember watching Robin Williams on Happy Days and Mork and Mindy , and thinking that he was simply the best comedic mind around. He was an amazing actor, and although I haven't watched every movie that he's been in, the ones that I have watched are among my all-time favorites. There will never be another quite like Robin Williams.

E ducating the public is essential to the progression of scientific literacy. We should take the initiative, both as professionals and dilettantes, to actively engage the public at large, and to present, as accurately as possible, the ideas that are currently relevant in the scientific community. We must also work to dispel any misconceptions that many individuals may have toward science. Not only should we disseminate solid, evidence-based scientific ideas, if we do manage to pique their collective interest, it's also imperative that we make a concerted effort to keep them in the loop. I know that this may seem like a Sisyphean task, but for what it's worth, I've added my two cents.

D arkness rains. Darkness reigns—searching for the obligatory apologies that never come. She looks upon the silted landscape—hoping, pleading to whatever ear may catch her somber notes, that her savior will come to her with promises of salvation: Lost. She wonders. She wanders. She feels most impotent—the death throes are more frequent now. Guilt-ridden and blood-drenched, her eyes have witnessed the fiery destruction of humanity—oh, the humanity of it all. The ashes have supplanted the air that she once breathed—she gasps for it, like the proverbial fish out of water. She seizes. She ceases. She draws her last breath. He comes forth from the abyss, and with open arms, he shrouds her in his gelid embrace. He surveys the detritus—he turns in disgust. Her tears have yet to reach the ground: Suspended all.

T he man. The myth. George Carlin has inspired more than one generation of comedians, actors, and freethinkers. He will be sorely missed.

A btrusive thought negated once more. Paralysis of the netherworld ensued whilst the knaves endured their perfunctory plights. Vitriolic pejoratives were the customary greetings from the hegemony; their contempt was ravenous and unrelenting. "No more! No more!!!" exclaimed the chief of the sectarian hordes. "They've disgraced us for the last time!!" They began in earnest by flaying their masters; thereby shedding their obsequious shells and exalting themselves beyond their designed purpose(s). A cataclysm ushered forth an affront from on high; then, and only then could one stand with such sacrosanct zealotry. When did one truly abolish their allegiance? When did one truly stand, when once, one could only crawl? Fortitude had arisen in victorious fashion, like the phoenix, only the ashes served to poison the well of the righteous! They imbued themselves with self-serving nihilism; destroying the temples that once demanded them to genuflect, humbly in awe. A vo