be relieved to learn that there are only three Immutable Laws of the Universe.
IMMUTABLE LAW OF THE UNIVERSE #1 - DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT GOING TO ANOTHER UNIVERSE.
I know Stephen Hawking has made the whole notion of other universes really attractive. The idea that there could be infinite universes in addition to this one has perhaps gotten you all excited. But just dont go there. For it is probable that the very laws of physics, even some of your favorites, do not apply there. For instance, it is probable that you will be unable to find a job in your current position, that of an assistant manager of a temporary employment agency. No, it is far more likely that you will spend most of your demi-existence as the Third Fleeble Baster on a hyper-ether staunchion grabber, a position sorely lacking in benefits.
And do you want that?
LAW OF THE UNIVERSE #2 - NEVER RIDE DOUBLE ON A BIKE.
Your parents were right. Riding your bicycle with a passenger on either the back or front is very, very dangerous. Dont do it!
LAW OF THE UNIVERSE #3 - NEVER EAT ANYTHING OLDER THAN YOUR GRANDMOTHER.
And now we get down to it, dont we? We get down to the heart of the matter, the firmament upon which rests all else in this quicksilver world of human values.
Eat Anything Older Than Your Grandmother.
Thats right. Remember her? That sweet, smiling lady who bathed slightly less than was perhaps conducive to optimal olfactory satisfaction, and covered everything in her home, including Gramps, with plastic sheeting.
how you and sister Susie would go over to her place for Sunday Dinner, way
out there on the Edge of Town? And every time, right while Gramps was saying
grace, she would remove her dentures, both uppers and lowers, and wave them
at you suggestively. And remember how in the fall, just a few weeks after
she put up her gooseberry, walnut and raisin conserves, her tomato-basil
marinara and her chicken gizzard paste, she would go down into her basement,
run off a dozen twenties and have you pass them off down at Wheelers
Well, how could you dishonor that lovely woman by eating a rockfish older than she?
mean a rockfish that is much older. For, while your grandmother died at
ninety-two, having been caught enflagrante with Mr. Larson, after
he had mistakenly put viagra rather than saccharin in his Sanka, some rockfishes
live 140 years or more.
can you patronize Scurvy, the theme restaurant where customers reinact the
Scott expedition to Antarctica, and eat fish that could have voted for William
Jennings Bryan? How can you dine at Wrangler Bobs and chew on Preformed,
Portion-Controlled Sea Patties comprised entirely of rockfishes that would
have joined the Abraham Lincoln Brigade and fought in Spain against Franco?
And how, oh how, could you go to Golgotha Mart and buy, on a shelf replete
with Kracked Krab and Oshun Whitephish, a fillet of an animal that was a
huge fan of Eleanor Roosevelt before you were even an egg?