On Dr. Strange and the MCU - why weren’t Fury and Shield more concerned with full on magic (imagine Fury meeting Strange and asking, “who is this guy?”)? Thor and Asgardians can be hand-waved as Clarke’s Third Law (“any sufficently advanced technology…”) but a human magician?

Captain Marvel looks amazing! I hope there’s less origin and more story than the MCU normally does (Black Panther did this pretty well. Dr. Strange took too long to get him to Kamar-Taj)

i informed staff at Madison College about this sandwich in a baggie on a (high) window ledge over a year ago. i think in another year it can graduate to full-time faculty.

birch trees symbolize regeneration and renewal. criminals in the middle ages were beaten with birch branches to cleanse their sins and brooms made from birch were thought to sweep away the past or evil … plus they look neat

circles in circles . . . National Geographic used to have an infographic map of what lies beneath NYC. It was fascinating and deep — deeper than some buildings are tall.

I can’t find the article now (thanks modern web! 🖕🏻) but bloomberg has this one on the complexity: www.bloomberg.com/news/feat…

we invoke our objets de la révérence with broken circles and scribbled nonsense — caterpillar, kubota, case — the economy demands we dig it up and tear it down and build something (anything! the same thing!) new. we are lousy magicians most of the time. but not always: nextcity.org/daily/ent…

This seems weird but Jupiter’s storm has been stable for 188 years. “This stalling is eerily similar to Hurricane Harvey. A new, scary element would be if the storm is partially offshore during this time.” twitter.com/KieranBha…

Spair-Whorf hypothesis claims either linguistic determinism (strong version) or linguistic relativism (weak version). Both posit that reality is altered by language (shaped/guided or created). Regardless, here’s a selfie.

this birb in the lower-right almost had an island with a statue all to itself. (egret? too small to be a crane or heron)

shadows and reflections . . . the mirror lies — the reflection is half the true size and flipped on the vertical axis — but the image represents me. it’s the only one I know. a shadow moves in lockstep with the caster but disappears into other shadows and can’t be caught.

Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy’s Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota — James Wright, 1990

Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, 
Asleep on the black trunk,
Blowing like a leaf in green shadow. 
Down the ravine behind the empty house, 
The cowbells follow one another 
Into the distances of the afternoon. 
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines, 
The droppings of last year’s horses 
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on. 
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.