Warhol Redux

In the future, everyone will be famous ...

... for 15 seconds.
... for 15 dollars.
... to 15 people.

In the future, everyone will be obscure for 15 minutes.

In 15 minutes, everyone will be famous.

In the future, 15 people will be famous.

Vote For Me!

Campaign Slogans

Is no one pointing out that McCain's slogan, "A leader we can believe in," in fact FOLLOWS Obama's "Change we can believe in" ???

My Starbucks Idea

Want to put the magic back in Starbucks? Go vote for my idea!

Canned Corpse

Oddly, it tasted about the same as the actual product.

P.S. You don't want to know what they did with Ray Kroc.

Calaveras County Cackles

OK! Here's our new leading candidate for Chinstroker of the Year Award.

"You can't tell how far a frog will jump until you punch him."

What the hell was she thinking about? Who will she say was "on my mind" this time? Bush's favorite schoolboy recreational pasttime (blowing up frogs)? Mark Twain? Yet another fairy tale?

Did she mean punch? Or push? Or poke? (Or kiss?)

Who's the frog -- Her? Obama? Bill? The DNC? The voters?

Can't wait until we hear the inevitable "clarification." This oughta be good.

Au Revoir, Newspapers

When your favorite newspaper disappears , both in print and online, how will you personally be affected? How will your life be different? How will you stay informed? Will it matter?

Never mind next year. Let's talk about now. How and where do you find your news? TV? Newspapers? Magazines? Websites?

How has that changed from a year ago? Five years ago? Ten years ago?

How do you envision news coverage in 2020?

A Joke

So a woman, a Black guy, and an old white guy walk into a bar... Bartender says, ...

Oh, you've heard this already? Never mind.

A Flash of Inspiration

I've always been fascinated by inventors, especially everyday folk who invent everyday gizmos -- stuff that the average idiot could've thought of, but didn't. Or, more likely, did, but didn't do anything about, other than fantasize winning the (fictive) patent lottery. In reality, nobody is ever going to buy just an idea -- not for a million dollars, not for a dollar. You've heard the expression: "Ideas are a dime a dozen." When it comes to inventions, truer words were never spoken.

I've interviewed tons of inventors for magazine articles -- ordinary men and women who did make a gazillion dollars on their brainchildren. They come from all walks of life, but their common denominator is that they did not license or sell their idea or their patent; rather, they manufactured, sold and distributed the item themselves. In other words, they built a solid business, sold (or licensed) the actual product (not the idea), and eventually cashed in by selling the successful business for multiples of earnings.

The other quality the inventors shared was perseverance in the face of adversity. They are first and foremost entrepreneurs. In every single instance, getting their invention to market was a steep uphill battle, fraught with unexpected setbacks and disappointments at every turn, with most of their naysaying family and friends encouraging them to abandon their cockamamie schemes. To a person, they all declare that, if they had known going in how much time and energy and resources it would ultimately take, they never would have taken that first step -- but, having reached the summit, they're glad they did.

I've had the privilege of researching and writing magazine profiles about the brains behind a variety of clever innovations, ranging from the inventor of the board game Boggle in New York to the inventor of the Weedeater lawn trimmer in Houston. And now one of my best friends, Ken Kobre in San Francisco, has joined the pantheon of great inventors, with the extraordinary success of his Lightscoop -- an ingenious camera accessory that easily and inexpensively enables photographers to dramatically improve the quality of their flash pictures.

As with all inventors, the path to riches was long and arduous, requiring years of intensive research and development. I witnessed innumerable versions and variations on the journey from the drawing board to the working models to the final product. It turned out to be a relatively simple concept that took years of engineering to perfect. (Even after it hit the marketplace to rave reviews and glowing consumer feedback, it is still going through constant evolution and improvement.)

But even once you have a product, your woes are just beginning. Manufacturing, packaging, order fulfillment, advertising, promotion -- opportunities for failure abound. Success can be elusive and rare. Despite long odds, Ken -- in partnership with his stalwart wife, the brilliant Betsy Brill -- scaled the mountaintop. Their Lightscoop is undeniably a valuable contribution to the field of photography, and millions of pictures will be the better for it.

Oy

Meshugah

Show Me the Money

Now that a federal appeals court has ruled that our paper currency discriminates against blind people, what would be the fastest, easiest, least expensive way to remedy that situation -- without creating a whole new set of problems?

Some countries use different size bills for each denomination. If we do that, what else will be impacted? For starters, all those vending machines that take paper currency will have to be retooled or replaced.

What would be the cost of imprinting cash with Braille? What measures would need to be taken to prevent those raised bumps from wearing out too quickly?

If the solution were left up to you -- if you had to devise the best way to alter paper currency so that blind people could identify each denomination -- what would you do?

Coolest. Thing. Ever.

Or at least the best seven minutes you'll spend today, guaranteed. Stay with it; it just gets better and better as it goes along. You're welcome.

Go Fly A Kite

I'm the dad who refuses to buy his kid videogames. No PS3, Wii, Xbox in our household. Difficult to say this without sounding priggish and self-righteous, but frankly I find them abhorrent.

I see my son's pals congregating, with nary a word of conversation between them, individually blam-blamming some onscreen arch-enemy, for hours at a time. Group solitaire -- no social interaction whatsoever. I pick up his friends to take them for a hike or a ball game, and the minute these kids get into the car, without even saying hello they pull out one of these godforsaken games -- which I confiscate immediately.

I shudder at the thought of my son turning into one of these mindless zombies. Other parents kvetch that they can't tear their kids away from their violent screens -- the ones which they have purchased for them. By now they know how I feel, and I obviously can't prevent or even dissuade them from raising a generation of dolts. But I can vote with my wallet, and will not purchase this overpriced mind-numbing crap. Consider my son deprived.

Today we bought a pair of colorful kites, $2.99 each at the supermarket, took them to the park, and spent a joyous hour running around, getting them to sail higher and higher and higher. Ours were the only kites visible against the clear blue sky. All the other kids in the park didn't even notice them. On this sunny, breezy day, they were too busy staring at their videogames.

Obama & Israel

For those concerned that Sen. Obama won't support Israel, look no further than Thomas L. Friedman's New York Times column today.

He cites several incendiary pro-Palestinian, anti-Israel quotes attributed to Obama, the kind that legitimately worry Jews. Trouble is, they were actually uttered by none other than Pres. Bush.

A true pro-Israel president, Friedman argues, is one who will make America strongest, and best able to support Israel. "Nothing would imperil Israel more than an enfeebled, isolated America."

Clearly Friedman feels Obama is that person.

If Israel is your voting priority, then at least ask the right questions about Mr. Obama. Knock off the churlish whispering campaign about what’s in his heart on Israel and focus first on what kind of America you think he’d build and second on whether you believe that as president he’d have the smarts, steel and cunning to seize a historic opportunity if it arises.

Don't Tell Anyone How You Did It

Thoroughly shuffle a deck of cards. Put it back in its box. Think of any two values -- for example, a Two and a Six, or a Five and a Nine. Suits don't matter, just the numbers (or Jacks, Queens, Kings, Aces). Now rest the card box on your left hand, and put your right hand on top of it. Concentrate on your two cards, and then... Squeeze! Really hard!

OK, lift your right hand. Open the card box. Carefully take out the cards. Spread through them. Did you succeed in squeezing your two thought of cards together, so that they're right next to each other? Spread through the whole deck to make sure. If not, you probably came close, and they're separated by no more than one or two cards. Shuffle 'em up good and try again. It'll probably work the next time. Squeeze a little harder! Practice makes perfect!

Stop the Presses!

What's news? According to CNN, here are the top stories, as we speak:

Chemist gets life for hubby's acid vat murder
Plane lands atop another taking off
Racy ads encourage safe sex for pets
Boy, 5, swipes, wrecks grandma's truck
Woman's body lies in apartment for 35 years
8 middle-schoolers expelled for sex on trip
Seacrest: Cheap shots with Cowell are real
Water is vital, but how much should you drink?

How many of these stories impact your life?
How many will you read?

Heart Cancer

Why do you never hear about heart cancer? Every other organ in the body, including the skin, can be afflicted by malignant tumors -- why not the heart?

I posed this question at breakfast this morning to some pals who are extremely bright and knowledgeable about many things, but not one had a clue about this. (Nor did I!) We all admitted it was an intriguing question, and perhaps a steppingstone to understanding why other organs DO get cancer. We all agreed that plenty of doctors and scientists must have pondered this, at much greater depth, and I'm sure that when everyone got back to their computers they Googled "heart cancer," as I just did.

And here's what I found:

The Mayo Clinic says heart cancer does exist, but is extremely rare:

Although heart tumors do occur, the vast majority are noncancerous (benign). A 20-year review of 12,487 consecutive autopsies in Hong Kong identified only seven cases of cardiac tumor — an incidence of less than 0.1 percent — most of which were benign.

A scientist on a Dept. of Energy bulletin board takes a stab at explaining why heart cancer is rare:

Cancer of the heart muscle called angiosarcoma do occur but are rare and occur more often in children and more often in the right side of the heart. Cancers like melanoma are known to spread to the heart. That being said, it is somewhat curious why certain tissues are less susceptible to cancer.This is typically ascribed to the belief that the more cells that are actively dividing in an organ or tissue the [more likely]* that organ or tissue will have a cancer arise in it. So skin, intestine and bone marrow which have high populations of dividing cells are more often to have a cancer arise in their cells than the heart whose muscle tissue is essentially non-dividing.

*(The citation says "less likely" but obviously means the opposite!)

And this from University of Pennsylvania's OncoLink:

Unfortunately, just like almost all the other tissues and organs, malignant tumors do occur in the heart. In addition, malignant tumors can spread to the heart from other sites (metastasis). Metastatic tumors to the heart are more prevalent than primary cardiac tumors, and the incidence is increasing as antineoplastic treatment results in longer survival .

Primary malignant tumors of the lining of the heart (pericardium) are exceedingly rare. However, tumors of the heart muscle do sometimes develop. Sarcomas are by far the most prevalent malignant tumors of the heart muscles (myocardium), angiosarcoma being the most common. Other malignant cardiac tumors that have been reported in the literature include rhabdomyosarcomas, mesotheliomas, fibrosarcomas, malignant fibrous histiocytomas, and lymphomas. Establishing the diagnosis of a cardiac malignancy is sometimes difficult because of their nonspecific clinical presentation. Surgery is the treatment of choice for most primary malignant cardiac tumors. Because the resection is often incomplete due to the extent and invasiveness of the tumor, radiation therapy can be used in conjunction with surgical resection. In general, the prognosis of a cardiac malignant tumor is poor.

So now you know! But now I wonder what other organs and tissues have low cancer rates, and why.

More Words to Hang By

Who knows what these mean, but here are a half dozen more Hangman nuggets guaranteed to make your opponent swing in the wind. Take it from a guy with a sore neck!

whilom
interferometer
macrocephalous
adipocyte
indaba
acceptance

What's funny about "adipocyte" is that it's got nearly every vowel, even Y, and you'll still stump 'em!

And "acceptance" is such a common word, but if they don't guess C, then they better watch out! They'll be doing the Saddam shimmy!

12 Hangman Doozies

Even if you have no idea what they mean, or are unlikely to use them in daily conversation, here are a dozen great Hangman words ... as I found out the hard way!

kymatology
rumchunder
weatherometer
acatalepsy
revenant
acaricide
redintegrate
yarborough
centuple
neurolysis
juvenescent
macromania

I got to wondering about Hangman strategies, and Googling around I found this and this, which emphasize math over vocabulary... I have no idea what the hell they're saying, but maybe you can decipher them?

Decipher. That's not a bad Hangman word either!

Career Day Redux

If you're wondering what happened at my son's Career Day, you can read about it here.

Dogged

How do you know when you've crossed that fine line between laudable perseverance and foolhardy stubbornness?

Especially when your decisions affect many others, at what point does personal resolve become perversely selfish?

When is it time to throw in the towel and devise a graceful exit strategy -- without having to wonder if things might have gone your way if you had stayed in the game just a little bit longer, and fought just a little bit harder?

Rights vs. Right

Just because you have the right to do it doesn't mean it's right to do it.

Just because you can doesn't mean you should.

Career Day

I've been asked to give a presentation at my son's middle school tomorrow for Career Day.

Which career should I talk about? I've worn many hats: writer, editor, entrepreneur, Web pioneer, mediator, magician. I have had so many "careers" that, in truth, I've arguably had none.

And what can I possibly tell them, knowing that whatever jobs these kids will someday have, in 2020, don't even exist yet today. Maybe that's the lesson. Gone are the days when someone would embark on a career at 22 and retire 40-odd years later from the same field, much less the same company.

For the generation currently entering the work force, the big question when they were kids was, "What will you be when you grow up?" It should have been: "What will you DO?" We've created a generation of aspirers, not achievers. Everybody wants to be; nobody wants to do.

My daughter majors in Russian Studies in college. People ask, "Why? What kind of job can she get with that?" And: "What does she want to be?"

"She's pursuing her passion," I explain. "She's doing what she enjoys." She's doing. And maybe that's the lesson.

The Magic of Making Money

A magician entertains a street crowd by borrowing a $1 bill, giving it a few folds, and then -- a wave, a snap, and presto! -- the captivated audience gasps as he unfolds a crisp $100 bill.

But it's just an hallucination, he declares, as he origami-folds it back into the audience member's original $1 and returns it, no sign of that C-note in his empty hands.

It's a good trick, and the spectators appreciate it as such, recognizing that anybody who really had magical powers wouldn't waste them by converting Washingtons to Franklins (and back again!) sheerly for the amusement of strangers.

Or would he? Think about it. What superhuman powers would YOU like to possess that would obviate your need for money altogether? Most respond "invisibility" -- suggesting that they could procure anything they wanted illicitly because nobody could catch them!

But that would be wrong. Better to have the power to enchant one of these.

Ask Not For Whom Eight Belles Tolls

My pal Eric Estrin writes:

Hillary Clinton, in a typically shameless and pointless attempt to make political hay out of anything under the sun, has been hyping the Kentucky Derby all week because a highly regarded filly was racing against a field of males.

That wacky, fun-loving Hillary was so positive that the female horse would win, she even sent Chelsea to Louisville to place a bet and to drum up further publicity for her cause across the border in Indiana.

The filly finished second and tragically suffered two broken ankles, which caused her to be euthanized right there at the track.

The horse that finished first was a male by the name of Big Brown.

Action News at 11!

I watched a mike-wielding TV news guy, cameraman in tow, descend on a solitary diner at an outdoor table at the Farmer's Market the other day.

Two tables away, I couldn't make out the conversation, but the TV news guy looked pretty somber, and seemed to be posing earnest, hard-hitting questions.

The unsuspecting target of his interrogation was a thirtysomething scruffily bearded guy who seemed nonchalant but accomodating of the camera and mike being shoved in his face while he was trying to eat.

After the TV guys left, my curiosity got the better of me, and so I went over to the interviewee and asked what that was all about.

"I guess they're doing a story on the rising price of rice," he explained. I noticed the remnants of a rice-and-beans side order on his plate. "They wanted to know how it affected me."

And what did he tell them?

"It didn't."

130-Million-Year-Old Poop Sells for $960

This might be the answer to this question.

17 Minutes and 4 Seconds

Oprah Winfrey today broke the world’s record for watching a human hold his breath.

Actually I thought I had once held this record, but apparently the rules say that the other person has to start breathing again.

Albert in the Sky with Diamonds

At 102, a visionary turns off, tunes out, drops dead -- the ultimate trip !

Where's the Justice?

This sex tape is going to be released.

This sex tape is not.

Watch the Parkin' Meters

Just curious -- do YOU know your religious leader's political beliefs? If you did, and disagreed with them, would that be sufficient reason for you to leave your church or temple?

If someone you knew belonged to a house of worship that was led by someone whose political beliefs you disagreed with, would that be sufficient reason for you to disassociate yourself with that person?

If you were considering employing that person, would his membership in a church or temple led by someone you disagreed with be sufficient reason for not hiring him?

Oh, by the way -- do you happen to know WHY the United States government was originally created? Just curious.

Fly Me to the Moon

How many people do you personally know who would accept a free invitation to fly a rocketship into space? Would you?

If you were offered an opportunity to spend a relatively risk-free year on Mars, and could take whatever friends and family members (and pets) you wanted -- and were guaranteed your job would be waiting for you when you returned (or at least a hefty book contract!) -- would you go?

Why?

The Truman Show

Congratulations! You are the only reader of this blog entry. It was written and posted just for you. Everyone else online knows that it's here, and has been waiting to see when you'd finally discover it. Now you have. We're all happy for you. Hope you enjoy it, and be sure to leave your comment. We'll know it's yours, because -- well, who else?

Naked Came the Mayor

What if every wannabe screenwriter in the world joined hands to create the quintessential L.A. noir screenplay? Well, it's happening as we speak.

Over at L.A. Observed, Eric Estrin's delightful Script Project is in its tenth week. Eric kicked it off with a few pages that introduced some intriguing characters (a charismatic L.A. mayor, a fading movie star, her industrialist husband). Each week since, contributors from all over the planet file the scene they imagine should come next, complete with snappy dialogue. Eric sorts through the entries, and every Sunday at midnight selects the weekly winner, whose prize consists of an official Script Project t-shirt. (No seven-figure deals here... yet!) Eric posts the winning pages, explaining what he admires about them, and then scribes near and far study them, and then scramble to be the ones to have their new pages selected the following Sunday.

At least as entertaining as the new scenes are Eric's accompanying Script Notes, which help prod and guide potential participants, so that the plot marches forward in logical, if surprising, directions. Sometimes you can almost feel Eric's frustration that the characters aren't behaving quite the way he envisions they should, but he knows that comes with the territory. He freely admits that, as someone who has successfully written for more TV series than he cares to remember, it's easier to be the producer than the screenwriter.

The script, called "Right of Way," is to L.A. traffic what "Chinatown" was to L.A. water. Competing solutions for energy sources and transportation woes are embodied by an eclectic batch of menacing characters, who stand to gain (or lose) fortunes, depending on which course the city takes. But don't let the heavy-duty subject matter fool ya -- it's also got a clever car chase, a mysterious map, 3 unexplained homicides, and an adulterous affair that could rock the tabloids. And that's all before page 36 -- the beginning of the second act.

For a few weeks, Eric kept hinting that we need to see a private-eye protagonist show up soon, but then a writer surprised him and turned in pages that indicated that the mayor himself, a former high-ranking L.A. cop, would step into that role, with a slick Scientology-like cult leader as his nemesis. The first mysterious murder the mayor has to solve is that of his own friend, that wealthy industrialist, even as he's been bedding the guy's movie-star wife. And now she's being held hostage, and he's on his way to rescue her. Whew!

The project is not without precedent. Forty years ago, two dozen Newsday journalists gang-wrote what set out to be a deliberately over-the-top trashy novel, "Naked Came the Stranger." They used the pseudonym Penelope Ashe, and it became a New York Times best-seller. Similar communally composed novels have appeared through the years, all paying homage to the original by using the "Naked Came ___" construction for their title.

Now this isn't the first time that a screenplay is written collaboratively by a group of far-flung strangers who've never even met each other -- the Writers Guild would be the first to acknowledge that, in fact, that's almost a working definition of a produced script these days. But "Right of Way" is probably the first to be written in serialized form, with each contributor sequentially tacking on a few pages to what's come before. Eric is the guiding sensibility whose job is to prevent it all from turning into a complete traffic wreck -- no easy task! -- but even he has no clue where it's all headed.

So go read it yourself and, what the heck, try your hand at it. I did, and because it was the first week and there weren't too many entries, I got lucky and concocted what became pages 4-6. I'm wearing my prize t-shirt as we speak. My pre-teen son and I have followed the story zealously ever since, formulating our own plots, just for our own amusement. During his school's spring break he took a shot at writing an installment (with a little assist from the old man) and now he has his own matching t-shirt (pages 15-17). Eric appreciated that my son added the requisite femme fatale -- "a hot tamale like Angelina Jolie."

Anyway, now is the best time to enter, when the script has got lots of meat on the bone to inspire you, but is still early enough in its development to give you plenty of creative freedom in shaping the destiny of its colorful characters. And even if you're not interested in writing, you'll appreciate a good read. You can start enjoying "Right of Way" right here.

Everything to Fear

I jokingly coined the word "phobophobia" in conversation the other day -- in connection with FDR's "nothing to fear but fear itself" -- only to later discover it really is a medical label.

You're saying to yourself: "If you fear fear, then what do you not fear?" And frankly, I was afraid you'd ask that.

Ipso Facto

Sometimes it's not until you actually write down an idea that you realize how little you really have to say about it.

Other People's Dreams

Why is it that other people's dreams are terribly fascinating -- but only to themselves? And yet that doesn't prevent them from trying to relate them to you in tedious detail. Yawn.

Stay Awake

If humans never required sleep, what specifically would you do with all that extra time? How would your family and home be different? How would your town or city be different? How would the world be different?

Would "progress" be faster? Would anything be faster? Would more get done? Or would the awareness of all that extra "productive" time counterbalance any inclination to use it productively?

If, conversely, humans required 16 hours of sleep per day, would their 8 waking hours be spent more productively? Is productivity even a desirable goal?

Do we work hard to enjoy our rest, or do we rest to be able to work harder? A religious view is that the Sabbath is the reward for our labors and not a springboard for more toil.

And if sleep were possible, but not mandatory, how many hours per day would you spend asleep? In one big chunk, or sporadic catnaps?

What's the longest you've ever slept -- and why? What's the longest you've ever stayed awake -- and why? Which was the more enjoyable experience?

How Many Days Left In Your Life?

Quick, without calculating -- presuming you'll live to a ripe old age, how many days do you think you have left in your life? What was your guess? Most people shrug and say, "A million."

Sad news for you: A million days is about 2740 years. No matter what kind of medical advances are around the corner, I don't think we're going to be seeing you in two millenia. Sorry.

Here's the harsh reality. Even if you live to be 100, you've only got 36,500 days in your entire life -- maybe a couple dozen more if you count leap years. My friends, that's thirty-six thousand. Total. It gets worse -- the odds of you living to 100 are pretty slim. More likely you'll hang around until you're 80 or 90 at most. Already you're down to about 30,000. If you make it only to the Biblical three score and ten, that's closer to 25,000.

If you're reading this, you've probably already used up at least a quarter to a half of those days, if not more. Which means you're fortunate if you've got another 10,000 to 15,000 days ahead of you, max. Unless you're one of those insects whose lifespan is only one day, suddenly ten thousand days doesn't seem like so much, does it?

Of course, a third of that time is spent asleep -- which means you may only have the equivalent of 6,600 "waking" days to look forward to. If you're lucky! And, a sad-but-truism: the older you get, the faster those days whiz by. So get going! Have a nice day -- while you still have a few left to enjoy.

She Sounds Just Like Her Great-Great-Great Grandmother

Visit an art museum, and you realize that we have only a rough idea of what our ancient forebears looked like. It's been less than two centuries since we've been able to capture a photographic record of how people actually looked -- and, for most of us, we're lucky if we have even faded photos of our own grandparents or, even less likely, our great-grandparents. Because those images are scarce, and scarcely candid, we have to strain to make out inter-generational resemblances -- and even then, they would have to apply solely to facial shapes and features. Your nose may be said to resemble a distant uncle's; your sister may have your great-aunt's eyes. Ain't biology grand?

Future generations will be luckier. They'll have audio and videographic records of not only what we look like today, but our facial mannerisms, hand gestures, body language. They'll be able to hear our voices. It will add a whole new dimension to observing and studying how behavioral traits are passed down. It won't just be physical resemblances they'll notice, but also how we walk and talk -- and sing a song, tell a joke, swing a bat, dance a hora. Our great-great-great grandchildren will be able to compare and contrast their own (and their contemporary families') actions and movements to ours.

So try not to be an embarassment!

Lazar's Other Law

Everything true today will someday be false.

Lazar's Law

Whoever you're badmouthing is always within earshot.

Fastest? Longest?

It wasn't so long ago that the idea of running a mile in under four minutes was unthinkable, and many scientists even set out to prove that it was humanly impossible. But in 1954, Roger Bannister famously broke that barrier, and in the half-century since, that record has incrementally been lowered by nearly 17 seconds.

Who holds the current record? You'd think it would be a household name, but it required a Google search to reveal that it's one Hicham El Guerrouj of Berkane, Morocco, who broke the world record in Rome on July 7, 1999. His time? 3:43.13, just a smidgen less than Noah Ngeny's of Kenya: 3:43.40. (For the record, the women's world record belongs to Svetlana Masterkova of Russia, who ran one mile in 4:12.56 in Zürich, Switzerland, on August 14, 1996.) Now you know!

So the question remains -- what is the fastest that a human can run a mile? Sure, we know what it is today, but will the record continue to be broken? By the year 2050, will someone clock a 3:30 mile? Is a 3-minute mile ever in the cards? (That would be 20 MPH). Logic dictates that --no matter how fantastically humans evolve, no matter how strong legs and lungs become -- there must be some natural limit to human speed. But what is it? And how will we know when it's reached? Won't there always be someone who can trim a tenth or even a hundredth of a second off it?

One of the Websites that carried the information about Hicham El Guerrouj was http://thelongestlistofthelongeststuffatthelongestdomainnameatlonglast.com/ . Which naturally makes one wonder which domain in fact does hold the record for being the longest. Domain names are not supposed to exceed 63 characters, so theoretically this would qualify. (Since one could go blind actually trying to count all those characters, it's best to just presume there must be 63 characters there -- otherwise why bother with such heft?). But then along comes http://www.thelongestdomainnameintheworldandthensomeandthensomemoreandmore.com/ (also 63 characters, one presumes, though admittedly it looks longer), and tries to get the Guinness World Records folks to ordain it as the official longest. Guinness politely declines:

"After having ... given full consideration..., I am afraid we are unable to accept your proposal as a record... because there is no merit whatsoever in this. It takes little to no effort and is similar to taking the largest number in the world and then adding 1 to it."

Which brings to mind a recent news item about breaking records -- but in this instance, "adding 1 to it" can mean the difference between life and death. It seems David Blaine, Mr. Endurance himself, can hold his breath underwater for more than 16 minutes -- 16:09 to be precise. That's just 5 seconds short of the Guinness world record, which he plans to break on April 30 on (where else?) the 'Oprah' show.

Now the New York Times report on all this included some interesting facts. In the early 20th century, Houdini was celebrated for being able to hold his breath for 3-and-a-half minutes; with minimal training, the reluctant Times reporter was able to last 3:41 . (Synchronistically -- but irrelevantly -- almost as long it takes the world's fastest man to run a mile.)

And it's not just the lengths to which divers go that has dramatically improved in recent decades, but also the depths:

"Researchers in the 1960s calculated, based on lung capacity and the effect of water pressure, that humans couldn’t dive deeper than 165 feet. Today free divers are going down more than 600 feet and returning in apparently fine shape."

So as with the four-minute mile, the question remains: what are mankind's natural limits? If David Blaine indeed breaks the record (on live TV!), how long will it be before someone else comes along and breaks it again?

Surely there must be an absolute limit on how fast a man can run a mile, on how deep he can free-dive, on how long he can hold his breath. But what is it? And how will we know when it's been reached?

Try The Impossible

If a magician performs something impossible, then that automatically makes it possible, yes? And if it's possible, what's so astonishing about performing it?

If Only I Had Saved My Beatles Card Collection...

Baby boomers perpetually lament their lack of prescience (or, more likely, their parents' lack of prescience) when it came to hanging on to the jewels of their youth (or, more specifically, the stuff from the Fifties and Sixties that's now selling for a fortune on eBay) -- Beatles bubblegum cards, Superman comic books, Barbie dolls. If only!

The next time you hear someone whining about their lost treasures of yesteryear, ask them this: If you were to live another 50 years, what inexpensive pop-culture items would you save and collect TODAY that will assure you instant wealth in 30-40 years? Or, for parents: Which of your kids' toys, books, gadgets should you store in a metal trunk for them so that they will be able to cash in during their adulthood?

Thought so.

Does Animal Music Evolve?

Human music evolves, but what about the tones and rhythms of other critters?

Since we've only been able to record and hear sounds for the past century or so, we have no way of knowing what our forebears voices sounded like, much less the "music" created by ancient birds, elephants, whales, crickets.

Is it possible that each species has gone through its own evolution -- ragtime, Dixieland, swing, bop, blues, rock, fusion, hip-hop, adult contemporary?

And if we now start recording and playing back their music to them, and expose each species to the auditory delights of other species, how will that affect the planet's audio evolution?

Will future generations (of humans) chart the musical progress of the world's critters? Will distinctive styles emerge? Will animal bands entertain stadium crowds -- until the lead baboon enters rehab, causing the camel and kangaroo to part ways over creative differences?