For this past Christmas, one of my gifts was the Planet Earth set. (http://dsc.discovery.com/convergence/planet-earth/planet-earth.html) made by BBC and shown on Discovery. Got to see a couple when they were shown but the set is much, much better. For those who have not seen these – there are five disks and fourteen shows plus about the same number of how it was made articles, the set is absolutly fascinating, breath-taking. You've got to get or borrow or rent it.

One of the thoughts which jumped out to me was the variety and prevalence of life. Where ever there is a niche, Mother Nature puts a critter to take advantage of it. What a marvelous thing life is. And if life takes advantage of every niche, what a marvelous thing evolution is. Said it before and will say it again, one of our greatest blasphemies is not using this spectacular brain we have been given.

And out there in my yard and garden there are a bunch of weeds. Do more fussing around than actually gardening and the weeds have a good strong hold. One of them is a little low-lying plant that puts up a tiny white flower. The flowers are on a stalk about two or three inches above the leaves. A couple of spikes stick out about an inch above the flowers. The seeds form on the ends of the spikes. And the seeds are spring-loaded! Any time the plant is disturbed, the seeds go shooting all over the place. Some of them go a couple of feet into the air!. Like a minature anti-aircraft barrage, clouds of seeds. Have no idea what the real name of this is. I call it pistolero. It is a good weed. Spreads fast and is much too hardy. Cut the grass for the first time really early this hoping to get a head start. Alas, too late. All I did was spread them more.

What a marvelous adaptation this plant is. It has covered all the bases. Smarter and tougher than I am. Like that *&%($ wiregrass. These have adapted to thwart all my attempts. I know they hate me and are deliberately attacking me. Survival of the fittest and afraid that is not me. But wait, adaptation? That is another word for evolution. Believe me, pistolero and wiregrass have evolved.

For those unbelievers out there, let me tell you the story I heard from beyond the grave from my Uncle George. He was in line at the Pearly Gates behind a preacher. Saint Peter read off the impressive list of the preacher's accomplishments. Big smile and the Gates started to open. But then Pete got a scowling frown and the Gates slammed shut. “You do not believe in evolution! Preached against it! Do you know how much effort we all put into that? Evolution is one of our best accomplishments, our greatest miracles! Mikey, put this one on the down elevator.”

Back on 12 March, made a post about the similarities and differences between me and my Dad. Done under the inspiration of Explorer (http://anexplorer.blogstream.com/) and his trek back in time to Scotland. The last sentence on my post was “The really difficult question. How about differences from and similarities to Mom?”

It really is a difficult question. A couple of weeks of cogitation (even did some of this in public) and still came up with very little. Mom, bless her soul, was just Mom. A good and loving mother. She loved to laugh and have a good time. One of my strongest memories is of Mom, her mother (Nana), a sister or two, and sometimes my Dad standing around Nana at the pump organ singing “The Old Rugged Cross” in beautiful harmony. Could not read a note but they could harmonize. She painted. Played bridge. Cooked chicken and dumplings, pork and sauerkraut, shad and roe better than anyone.

Certainly deserves her tribute. There are a bunch of better pictures somewhere in the cruise box but these will have to do for now:

When my wife learned of this post, she had some similarities and differences to add. She says that I might have more similarities to Mom than to Dad even though I look so much like him.

Both love to swim. She was an excellent swimmer and I enjoy it a lot. My wife says I have the same form she did.

She allowed my brother and myself to spend the day out on the river or running around the neighborhood. Treated my children the same way. They grew up to be trusting and adventurous.

Both liked reading.

Have a joy of life. Sense of humor. Life is fun.

Enjoy talking with people. We had a front porch that looked out over the Susquehanna. Folks always seemed to be coming by. And we both liked to sit and watch the river go by and talk about deep philsophical subjects. And the neighbors.

Mom and Dad were good husband and wife and good parents. A good example of a happy marriage.

There is an article in March Scientific American about relationships with robots entitled “Not Tonight, Dear. I Have to Reboot.” It proposes that a some point in the not too distant future, marriages with robots might be legal. In Massachusetts, anyway. The author of the article is David Levy who has a book out entitled “Love and Sex with Robots”.

Ridiculous, of course. There might be some who are not doing well enough with regular human beans for whom this might be a viable option. But still does not sit well.

But wait, there's more. You can go out right now and buy a robot dog for a pet. There are experimental robots that look and feel like skin and which will speak and react to your voice and expressions. Robots that children include as a playmate (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/QRIO). Self-replicating machines (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-replicating_machine). Is a self replicating machine alive? DARPA has a car that drives itself (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Smart_car). Roomba. Robots policemen and soldiers to go and get bombs or negotiate with bad guys. Predator. Not to mention computer bots. And how about virtual reality, Second Life? Why not a robot to marry?

And here I am, communicating with a machine. Explorer's (http://anexplorer.blogstream.com/) personality test (http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp) said I am a Fieldmarshall, ENTJ. Extroverted. Why am I communicating with a machine? And are any of you real? Is LalePop's (http://lalepopsart.blogstream.com/) art being done by a robot? Whom can tell? Some, like TAB and Johnny I know are not robots unless they made them with deviant circuits. The bottom line is, robots or real people, blogging is fun to do. How about marrying a robot? As much fun as a real human bean?

One of the rants and raves that seems to keep coming to mind is the Machiavellian phrase “The end justifies the means”. There is a great discussion of this on Wikipedia under the term “consequencialism”. I remember the Machiavellian phrase being used in reference to Hitler's extermination of mental and physical defectives, Jews, homosexuals, etc. Also to Stalin's elimination of all opposition. There can be pros and cons to consequencialism but to my mind, “The end justifies the means” is not a nice thing.

Unfortunately, to get elected in the U.S. of A. these days, and in almost all past elections, you almost have to do apply “The end justifies the means”. And the means in too many cases is that there is no room for morality. Nor for honesty. It was true for Bill and for Bush. It would be true for Hillary, also. The statements about the Bosnia trip are the ideal example, as is the race-baiting. Win at any cost. If the truth can be twisted, spun, that is ok if it wins the election and benefits the party. The heart of a natural born killer.

How about Obama and McCain? There are some good indications so far. They owned up to their gaffs. They have not twisted their attacks away from the issues at hand. Politics is a nasty and mean business and the balance between a straightforward push to win and doing anything possible to destroy the opponent can be difficult. So far, this may be a different set of candidates. Can they be establishing a swing of the pendulum toward something better? But, then, these are still politicians we are talking about here.

Easter got me thinking. About Easter, other life in the universe, evolution, and the superiority of homo sapiens.

Was sitting around the pool a little bit ago with a bunch of the boys on a Sunday afternoon. Sort of boring, both suns up at the same time so it was just too hot. One big hairy guy stood up and proposed “Yeeoooow”. That is Wookie for “I am bored sitting here with you jerks. I heard of a little planet out by Epsilon IV that the sensors say has life on it but no one has ever visited. What do you say we hop in the Millenium Falcon and make a little jaunt over there and see what it going on? They may have a party or something.” Wookie is a very efficient language.

So, we all jumped in and before you could say Jack Robinson, we were there. Warp 13. Flash and Dale commented on it being a sort of rocky and dull place. Spock whipped out his tricorder and – lo and behold – found a plethora of life, most of it underground and concentrated. Sounded like a party after all. And a short trek and there they were! A whole bunch of critters. Sort of like toilet plungers of different sizes and colors. Squishy sounds coming from the bulbs at the bottom but squeeky sort of almost singing coming from small faces near the top of the handle part. All lined up with one in the front, obviously the leader, waving his arms in time. Being gentlemen, and ladies, we waited a few minutes until they waved to us and started to wander squishily off into cave sort of passageways. Zaphod gave us all babble fish so we could understand the language.

The leader came up to us with a big smile on his face. He asked where we were from and remarked on how many different places there were in the universe. Some tea and chat later and we commented on the coming together of all of them. They were having their Sunday services. Singing a few hymns.

He said they do that so they could communicate together with God. You mean pray, I said. No, not pray, he says, they talk directly with God and God talks directly to them. They can talk to God individually from their homes but like to join once a week on Sunday to do it together. God tells them about the rest of the universe, gives them knowledge, but mostly helps them improve their souls and guides them on their way to Heaven. They can chat back and forth with their ancestors, also.

Reverend Leader asks about our beliefs. Was familiar with all of the different systems. Mentioned that I am a Christian. All of a sudden, his demeanor became severe and we could feel the mounting force fields. He said “We know about you. You had the ultimate compliment of having God's Son come to you. But you tortured and killed Him. Not only that, you brag about it.”

Without a chance to explain, we all found ourselves instantaneously back on the Millenium Falcon and light years away.

Are we the best in the Universe? Is there room for evolution on this Easter day?