Catherine the Great

After the lecture The VeloDrone and Le Bon David joined the crowd in the reception hall to drink tea and orange juice, and eat coconut cakes. The Baroness Professor made a beeline for them.

Hello! she said. I hope you've saved me some cake.

There's precious little of it, said The VeloDrone. Only two plates. This school is obviously not as wealthy as it looks. Would you like a bite of mine, Baroness?

I think I'll pass on that, said the Baroness. But do please call me Susan.

Alright Susan, said The VeloDrone. And you must call me Vello. David of course, you have already met, inside.

Yes indeed, said Susan. Hello David. I'm really looking forward to your question.

Baroness Susan was so pleasant that Le Bon David hardly had the heart to go through with his question, but he decided to press ahead anyway.

Well, Susan, he said. You have called your talk "How can neuroscience help us understand imagination?", but you gave your talk on human consciousness, claiming that consciousness and imagination are one and the same. I would contend that consciousness and imagination are two different things.

Go on, said Susan.

For example, said Le Bon David, those platform high heels you're wearing. I would claim that they represent the triumph of imagination over consciousness.

How rude! said Susan. You will have to explain what you mean by that remark.

You mean define my terms? said Le Bon David.

Yes....NO! said Susan. Well, you have got me there, David. Now you see why I always try to disable the philosophers at the beginning of my talk. Although I do find I usually get on well with them in the real world.

Madam, said Le Bon David. You are very gracious.

Madam, said The VeloDrone, you are. You remind me very much of my old friend Catherine the Great, a brilliant scientist and a woman of great beauty.

Oh get on with you, said Susan, blushing and flicking back her pony tail. You know, she added, you two are truly fascinating. I would really like to attach electrodes to both your heads.

Hee hee! said The VeloDrone. I'm sure that could be arranged.

Deep Connections

Why so glum? asked Pliny the Elder.

So much for connectivity in my three random things, I replied. All I have come up with so far is this: The fence in story one, the sand on the beach in story two, and the coconut cakes in story three.

What about them? asked Pliny.

They were the same colour, I said.

No one would even guess that, said Pliny. You didn't mention the colour of the fence. Perhaps you should look at the bigger picture. These are not just random things, they are complex random events. It seems to me that there is plenty of connectivity if you examine them as a trilogy.

Oh really? I said. Go on.

Firstly, said Pliny, in his best didactic manner, there is the element of time. The Big Bang occurs in the night time. The Half Woman in the afternoon, and the Lucky Person in the morning.

So they do, I said.

Secondly, length, said Pliny. The Big Bang is a short story, the Half Woman is mid-length and the Lucky Person is long.

Certainly true, I said.

Thirdly, went on Pliny, in the Big Bang story, we have an emptiness in the middle of the story, a lack of relevant information that would enable us to solve the mystery. In the Half Woman, we are presented with, as it were, a half-set of information, which none the less enables the mystery to be solved. In the Lucky Person, we have a set of instructions given over the telephone by a so-called 'real person', enabling the protagonist to uncover a unique and lucky number.

A possibly lucky number, I corrected.

Yes, said Pliny.

Well that is most impressive, I said. But what does it mean?

It means, said Pliny, that your three stories when examined together represent aspects of things that are common to all human experience. Time, emptiness, half-truths, whole truths, the processing of information, luck, and the sharing of cakes.....

He stopped, and looked at me pointedly.

Thank you, I said.

Macaroons

Macaroons! spluttered Pliny. What are macaroons? I can scarcely imagine these waves.

They're little pyramid-shaped coconut cakes, I said, with a cherry on top. The waves looked like little green pyramids bobbing up and down on the lake.

I daresay, said Pliny, that they are not usually green.

No, they are usually white or, if cooked a little longer, golden brown. At least I think so. Let's look them up on Wikipedia.

We typed in macaroons. The Wiki picture of macaroons was not what I was hoping to see. The macaroons were hardly pyramidical. They were slightly burnt and didn't even have a cherry on top.

Hmmm, said Pliny. They do not look like waves. But look here! " Not to be confused with the French macarons." Perhaps you meant macarons.

We clicked on macarons. The macarons were, in the photograph, the exact shade of green that the waves had been, but they were not the right shape, being two flat biscuits stuck together with cream.

Bad luck, said Pliny. Your image is untenable. Now what about the white frothing cherry and the spitting frogs? And the boab tree?

Pliny, you don't get banana points for criticising my blog.

I know, he said crossly.