This tangle of Drosophila, these flies
low-orbiting your wineglass and my peach
niggle a question: whether meaning lies
only in multitudes. Is all, not each,
what matters? The arcana of creation
bloom from the totting up of tiny specks
from generation unto generation
of brief lives and uncomplicated sex.
We count them, yea, we count them. Thus, they count.
In aggregate, the little meanings chime
life’s answers; little dabs of data mount
to heaven in their millions at a time.
The new design of darkness to appall:
the data cloud, and not the sparrow’s fall.
—Maryann Corbett
The German Gambit
Reinhard Cardinal Marx stated recently that the German bishops intend to issue a formal liturgical blessing for…
On Aliens and Our Alienation from God
The Department of War recently released dozens of files, dating back to the 1940s, of UFO sightings.…
Thomophobia
Every year the American Library Association marks “Banned Books Week,” a celebration devoted mostly to books…