“The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe (as if you didn’t know)

This is the other poem I was reciting to myself this morning on the way to work, weirdo that I am.  I was very happy that I was able to remember the whole thing…except for that one verse about the velvet violet lining about two-thirds of the way through, that I always lose.

Anyway, I recorded this and added some sound effects (I wouldn’t call it music), and decided to share it.

I hope you like it.

“The Second Coming” by W. B. Yeats

While on my way in to work today, I just started reciting this and one other poem to myself, and then I decided I’d just record a recitation and add a bit of music/special effects to this, and to the other poem, which will follow shortly.

I hope you like it.

Some Thing or other there is that doesn’t like covering

Okay, this is me doing a version of Something by the Beatles…and more specifically by the immortal George Harrison.  You know the words, so I’m not going to write them out, but I’d love to know what you think of my version.

Everything on it is me, though the drums are electronic.  I don’t have a drum set, unfortunately.

I hope you like it!

A thought

I just had the slightly peculiar thought that, though I often think that I want to die, what I really want is to be dead.  Biology more or less demands that actually to die is almost always a quite unpleasant process.  To be dead, however, is rather appealing.  If I could find a way to do a kind of metaphorical quantum tunneling, to go from being alive to dead without having to get over the hump of the activationg energy–or is that deactivation energy?–that would be pretty cool.

“Like and Share”

© 2020 by Robert Elessar All rights reserved
Words and music by Robert Elessar
Performed by Robert Elessar
Produced by Robert Elessar


Can you be what I can be?
Could you be as cool as me?
Commonness is misery.
Like and Share if you agree.

Do you think you’re special, too?
Am I as unique as you?
Every other point of view
Seems to be the same.  Could that be true?

Look at all my pretty pictures.
Don’t you wish that you were me?
You don’t know the half of it.
You don’t know what you can’t see.

Do you believe what you can see?
Pictures of a life so free,
Edited for quality,
Empty of reality.

You can’t feel what you don’t know;
You see only what I show.
Just that superficial glow,
Not the darkness that lies below.

Look how perfect my world must seem.
Don’t you wish that this was you?
Don’t you wish your life was so fine?
God know, God knows, God knows
I do too.

You can’t like what you can’t see.
You can’t see the actual me.
This is all illusory,
Even if you don’t agree.

Do I see what you can see?
Are you dead inside like me?
Every flaw is agony.
Like and Share
Like and Share
Like and Share
If you agree.

Thoughts about cosmic expansion (or the lack thereof)


I grew up with the notion that our universe was either going to slow its expansion enough to re-collapse, or was going to slow but never quite stop expanding—asymptotically approaching zero growth—or that it would continue to expand, slowing down over time but never quite reaching zero growth.  Though it was perfectly clear to me that, barring some extremely improbable events, there was no way I was going to be alive to know for certain which was right, it was nevertheless a question that I found deeply gripping…much more so than any politics short of the fear of World War III, and probably more important to me even than that.

Of course, the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991 came as a terrific surprise, something that I never would have even considered possible in my younger days (I was 21 when it happened…still pretty darn young, come to think of it).  Nevertheless, though this stopped me from being quite so convinced about the inevitability of nuclear Armageddon, it didn’t really hit me emotionally.  It was just a big surprise.

In 1998, though, when I heard about the supernova evidence of the increasing rate of cosmic expansion—now called dark energy, consistent with some version of Einstein’s previously discarded idea of the cosmological constant—I was excited beyond anything I can recall feeling before or since that wasn’t a literal milestone in my own life.  Seriously.  And when you get right down to it, the only personal milestones that beat it were my marriage and the birth of each of my two children.  Graduating med school didn’t even come close.  This was the most exciting and unexpected thing I’d yet learned, as a discovery in science…new, deep information about the nature and fate of the very universe itself.

Part of my excitement was surely due to the fact that I was learning it literally at the same time as everyone else.  But I’ve always loved cosmology, all the way at least back to when I got Cosmos (the book) as a birthday present when I was ten or eleven and was as happy with it as any other present I can recall having received.  To understand the structure and workings of the universe is just remarkable.  It makes me feel, in just a small way (if that’s not contradictory) that the whole universe is within me.

And of course, as I said, learning about accelerating universal expansion and all the subsequent, related cosmological information, including details of the CMB and its mapping, all that wonderful stuff, was just an incredible adventure.

Now, recently, a paper has come out positing that the conclusions about increasing cosmic expansion might have been premature.  Of course, there’s a lot of push-back against that, which makes sense, but the points made are apparently not unreasonable or outrageous.

On hearing this, I had to ask myself what I would think if it turned out that dark energy were incorrect.  It doesn’t seem terribly likely that dark energy will fall completely, since it jibes with a great many other things as a general part of our picture of the universe, but I could be wrong.  As I thought about it, though, I realized that, if dark energy turns out to need revising, I think I’d be nearly as excited as I was when I heard about it in the first place.  Because whatever the truth is, it is, no matter what we want it to be.  Learning where you’re wrong is the surest step in figuring out the truth…and learning what the actual rules are to the game in which we live is surely just about the coolest thing we can do.

Compared to that, even playing the game—by which I mean, living one’s life from day to day, and from birth to death—seems only a distant second.