"Does your monkey bite?" I heard that thousands of times over the years. My Uncle Lou owned a farm where he "saved" old circus animals. I used to go and work there summers. He couldn't pay me (or anyone else most of the time) but he did offer me a pet one year. "Pick what you want" he bellowed. Lou was a little hard of hearing, so he yelled most of the time. Now I, being a sensible type, picked a monkey. He was retired from a life with an organ grinder. Really, he used to wear the little hat and coat and beg while his owner played. His name was Mickey, but I called him Steve. Steve was awesome. He was about as smart as most of my friends. Hey, he flung some poo occasionally, but we all have to let off steam. He learned to interact with most of our family activities. I remember him cleaning up on weekend mornings. We usually let him vacuum and sweep. I had sawed the handle off of a broom to make it easier, and he loved the Hoover. He would try to vacu...
The universe, by definition, is infinite. It is arrogant for us to think mankind can formulate all the questions much less grasp all the answers.