I am 10 months old, and I'm learning to walk. It's all about balance and taming gravity. When it comes to standing up straight, my tiny buttocks appear to be surprisingly heavy. One, two, three steps... plump! Mama smiles gently and calls me a fallie. She also says I'm a fast learner. She says many things, half of which I don't understand. Daddy is even worse. I complain the only way I can, but they still keep smiling at me with dark blue circles under their eyes. And I'm learning to be less whiny.
Winter breathes above my shoulder. After October comes January, and blurriness in between. Take what's yours, but spare my life. I will be vending frozen poles for tongue-sticking and surgical scissors. Two for the price of two. No discount. This is life. My hair is covered with snow; when the last snowflake melts, I will catch a cold so that I have an excuse to grab an extra cup of tea with ginger, lemon, and honey. My snowman is too anatomically correct, and I had to cover him with a cloak. The carrot was stolen by a local gang of rabbits. Therefore, I replaced the gaping hole with a 40-watt incandescent light bulb. Now I'm calling it an olfactory bulb. My neighbors claim it fluoresces at night, strictly between 1 and 4 a.m. I wonder what makes them stay awake this late. Also, I pointed out to them that if this observation is not a product of their imagination, the bulb would rather phosphoresce but definitely not fluoresce. Finally, curiosity took over me, and I stayed awake the whole night last Saturday, watching my snowman from a kitchen window. Probably, the bulb had blown out: I saw nothing. Only at some point, closer to dawn, the snowman winked at me with his coal eye. I woke up in bed in the morning, comfortably tucked into a waffle blanket. Belgian waffles with maple syrup and black coffee for breakfast. I keep forgetting, do I have to hurry somewhere today?
- Top Story - October 2023
How To Travel With an OctopusTop Story - October 2023
Abstract In this article, I promote science, art, and octopuses. Its purpose is to entertain, advertise, and tell (and also show) a story that one might find amusing or boring, thoughtful or light-minded, educational or utterly silly. See and decide for yourself.
Dear Diary— Today, I've been feeling nostalgic. Still do. I caught a cold several days ago. A mild fever, a clogged nose, a deepish funny nasal voice, and overall fatigue pulsating through my mortal body. It started last Thursday and has lasted since, in its rhythmic sinusoidal waves of
One sunny autumn morning, I woke up in a flying saucer. Surrounded by dozens of curious eyes, I thought: "Wow, that's just awesome! Does it make me a sort of gravity-defying gravy?" I started talking to my new friends (or maybe foes—we'll live and see how it goes and how it ends). I said: "I'd like to show you three things on our planet: the variegated and smokeless wildfires of our forests in October—the flames of maple leaves will make you dizzy from happiness and sadness; the flames and fires and deaths and despair of wars—be it in Ukraine or Iraq or Sudan or Kashmir—we also call them armed conflicts; and finally, the sparkles in my friends' eyes—fire, walk with me—and we walk and stumble, proud and humble, rise and walk again. So, where does the line between our ugliness and beauty lie? It lies... I do not want to lie: I don't know the answer to this question."
- Top Story - September 2023