The image shows a pregnant moon g-o-d figure facing left to right, with a student of his book reading it from behind from its perch on his back. Coincidentally, I linked to the telomere specialist & flying lunar humor WE Wright and JW Shay home page in the first paragraph of my essay on longevity, and compared them to the Wright Brothers. Also, I noted that TA-65, which adds 460 base pairs per year to the telomeres of blood granulocytes, must run our cellular aging clock back almost a decade in the course of a year of treatment at 5 mg/day. This I posted under my backwards-in-time moon clock on the bottom of the first page of my life extension file longevity.html. Here the reader seems to personify the attitude of "busiNeSS". I've had a lot of fun speculating on the title of the actual book of the moon dog with its gleaming corner crater Proclus (the "Hamlet" crater), or the Book of God, as men have been doing since Psalms was written 3000 years ago. Some prior attempts can be identified as time goes on: "The M-"pi"-er of Great B-Written", for instance, as if to wire "Great Britain" to cosmic humor. The menu of activities selection for the "Playmate of the Month", perhaps. "Log of the First Mate", maybe. "Yet I have set my King on my Holy Hill of Zion", from Psalms of David. It must be the Cosmic Connection. Reading the "Sermon on the Mount", from an incarnation of The Eternal, our God, perhaps. "We'll look around and play the mess...on Edward Pier." [Jethro Tull/Up the Pool]. I see-you-do-you-see-me signals like this are fundamental in mystic communications, and can be observed from orbit or from beneath the cloud cover. The planetary crystal ball makes Internet a Magical Mystery Tour.

Coincidentally, I have just written a piece warning about my cocoa power and water beverage for chocolate polyphenols, which, if consumed on an empty stomach or with only celery for breakfast, can produce a monumental purge of the bowels which I have christened The Curse of the 2nd Grail.

The tit to knee form possibly signifies a haunting horniness of the "What Does Wo-Man Want" school. I enjoy both American and British music[2]. Men have been getting taller in my neighborhood, hence the elevator heel joke. As a matter of fact, according to a government film I saw, the average height of a US soldier in WW II was 5'8", but by the time I was in high school I think average male height had gone up to 5' 9", so I was taller than average in stocking feet at 5'10.5". However, I am now about average, at 5'11" in street shoes, I think. There are more taller fellows; perhaps boots or track shoes could be used to jack me up to 6'. Anything taller would seem to be perilously perched. If I live for centuries, perhaps I will seem to shrink to relatively Yoda dimensions as others continue to select for more height or taller men move in.