It seems clear to me (and clearly does not seem clear to everyone) that there is a quality to existence which is inexplicable. I am not merely my idea of myself. There is more to my existence than can ever be comprehended by data or explanation. Every attempt I make to find rational explanations (an effort I applaud), necessarily creates more phenomena. It is not difficult to suppose that what we perceive is the foam on the wave and not the wave. As I have frequently observed, the planets swinging around the stars and the stars around the galaxies are not obeying the Law of Gravity and doing calculus. I am the one doing calculus, attempting to describe their behavior. They are just doing what they do. It strikes me as hubris to suppose that our descriptions, as fantastically accurate as their predictions may be, constitute the underlying reality. We assume the stars must obey our patterns of thought.

Mathematics is lovely stuff, and so is physics, cosmology, all of science. It is a way of knowing. The honest student is driven to try to understand, not to lay down dogma. As for God, that is a matter for individual choice. No one may be forced into faith, nor may anyone be forced to abandon it. I do not find faith to be the blind acceptance of foolishness, but the conviction that there is more to existence than appears. I have quite reasonable sources for this conviction, which have nothing to do with silly systems like creationism.

Are there not a great many people who have no use for fundamentalism, revere the understandings of science, and yet think that the universe is mysterious beyond our ability to explain or characterize it? We do not yet understand all of mathematics (and according to Goedel, we never will), and that is our own creation. How can we assume we understand all of something immeasurably larger than we are, which we have NOT created?

Ok, enough. Will somebody please tell me what the phrase "jump the shark," which appeared three times in this essay, means, and how it originated?

My son-in-law is a naturalized citizen from El Salvador. In order to become a citizen, he had, among many other requirements, to learn the meaning of "the rule of law." I wept for joy when he became a citizen. I weep for other reasons to see that most of those who are born citizens do not know the meaning of the phrase.

There is a song that has been going through my mind lately, with regard to Bush and his collection of criminals, including the doublespeak-named Department of Justice: "Ooo-ooo, that smell; don't you smell that smell? Ooo-ooo, that smell; the smell of death surrounds you."

For me this song is the mental background music for every ad or pronouncement by this pack of liars and frauds.

As you have sworn off Wii, I have attempted to swear off posting (as equally useless). But cannot resist this.

The fitness industry appears mostly to be about ways to avoid exercise while satisfying the guilty itch that says one ought to exercise. But what does guilt have to do with it? It's a question of personal results. Either you get them or you don't.

In 1960, eight full years before Cooper published Aerobics, I tried out for the high school track team, having shown little promise in other sports. I was attracted to distance running, because the premise was that anyone could improve what we called, at the time, being in shape, or conditioning, simply by putting in the miles. Never became more than a mediocre distance runner (my best mile was 4:45), but fell in love with conditioning.

I made a cause-and-effect connection. If I did the work, I felt better, weighed less, and could do more. It was that simple.

All anybody needs is a good pair of walking shoes and the willingness to walk say forty minutes a day five days a week. Cheap. Doesn't require huge amounts of will-power. Most people spend forty minutes a day dithering about how they ought to exercise. Just walk while you dither.

As for nutrition, fresh air--common sense goes a long way.

All you need is the ability to do a cause-and-effect analysis of your own behavior and a tiny bit of will-power. I don't know what perverse imp causes us to imagine that five minutes gobbling a piece of gooey chocolate cake (and I love the stuff) is somehow preferable in its effects to forty minutes walking, but it is a real problem. The good news is, that's the main problem with motivation.

Even as a kid, incidentally, I could tell Atlas was full of it. Luckily I preferred conditioning to muscles. Stretching is wonderful. Go ahead try yoga, but remember it's not a competitive sport. It's about relaxing. Relaxing is difficult nowadays. It requires attention, but not force.

Common sense. A little bit of effort most days. The point is not impressing others or beating up bullies on the beach but getting more out of your own existence.

Ooo-ooo, that smell; can't you smell that smell? Ooo-oo, that smell; the smell of death surrounds you.

Was feeling fairly sanguine about the election and this discussion until I noticed the tagline Salon used: "A panel of experts . . ."

Grew up in Mississippi. Nothing to recommend about summers there. Accordingly have always been mystified at the Sunday-supplement gushing about the wonders of the season. Have come to the conclusion that the supposed love of summer Americans feel is just another myth, like the one about how families love each other during the Christmas season, intended primarily to stimulate us to buy things. Drinks, air conditioners, melons, wading pools, tickets to carnival rides, grills.

After all, if we do not all feel exactly the same things at exactly the same times, how shall our behavior be successfully manipulated?