Goldilocks Effect

Do you know anything about the Goldilocks Effect? asked Pliny the Elder.

Why are you asking? I said.

I was watching a television program about the planet Jupiter last night, he replied, and they said the regions most likely to support any sort of life were the cloud regions, due to the Goldilocks Effect.

Oh I saw that program too, I said. Wasn't it tedious!

Not at all, said Pliny. It was most interesting. But you haven't answered my question.

Well, I suppose the Goldilocks Effect must be the way they describe the most habitable regions of a planet, as being neither too hot nor too cold, but just right, like Baby Bear's porridge.

I beg your pardon! Did you say Baby Bear's porridge?

Yes, I gather you don't know the story of Goldilocks, Pliny.

No, I don't, said Pliny. Enlighten me.

Goldilocks was a little girl and she went to the house of the Three Bears. She was hungry so she tried their bowls of porridge. Father Bear's big bowl was too hot, Mother Bear's medium sized bowl was too cold and Baby Bear's tiny bowl was just right. So she ate it all up.

Oh, I see, said Pliny. But wait a minute. That doesn't make any sense. Why was Baby Bear's porridge warmer than Mother Bear's? Shouldn't it have been the coldest porridge of all?

You're right! I said. I always thought there was something wrong with that story.

Sorry Poem for Pliny

Pliny, this poem is for you:

Me paenitet pudor
deflectere facie rubrae
ex medio publica
induco anum emergentem
ex mare flammea
sub caelo pulveris;
florae parvae, subrufi colori;
et sonitus noctis candens.

Deterior tuo possuent,
nisi prima verba deleta
at tamen, me excuso.

What's this? says Pliny, reading my poetical offering. Are you saying you are sorry? Your Latin is so abysmal that I cannot be sure.

Yes, I'm saying sorry. What's wrong with it?

Translate it for me, says Pliny.

Alright:

Sorry I am, wishing to deflect
the shame of your red face
from public view
I introduced an old woman emerging
from the sea under a sky of dust;
small flowers of reddish hue;
and the glowing red night noise.

It could have been worse for you
had I not deleted what I first wrote
but nevertheless
sorry I am.

Jupiter! exclaimed Pliny. What did you first write? Never mind, he added quickly. Your verb endings are all wrong and your nouns and adjectives don't agree properly. And you are ambiguous as to whether you are excusing yourself or asking me to excuse you.

I thought you would like it, Pliny. But as to the verb endings and the nouns, some crucial pages have fallen out of my Latin dictionary.

That need not be a disaster, says Pliny kindly, since you have me.

Easy Mo Bee

Pliny the Elder saw me reading Aesop's Fables. These tales are meant to be heard, not read out of a book, said he. They are oral tales. That is all very well, said I, but I have borrowed this book from the library.

Perhaps you could google up a site where someone speaks the stories, he suggested helpfully.

So I found a site and listened to several of the fables read by a child who did not read very well. Not all the fables could be listened to. I decided to give up on the child and read Jupiter and the Bee.

It was exactly the same story as the one in my library book. The Bee brings Jupiter some honey. Jupiter is pleased and offers a reward. The Bee asks for a sting to kill men who want to steal its honey. Jupiter is angry, and grants the sting, with the proviso that if the Bee uses the sting it will die. A good story. I suppose the moral is: Always ask for nice things.

But the moral of my story is yet to come. You can double click on any word in the fable you are reading and you will get an instant link to a site called ANSWER, which will tell you the meaning of the word. You can double click on Jupiter for instance, and learn that he is a God. I clicked on Bee. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Bee was a famous New York rapper, whose full name was Easy Mo Bee. I passed this on to Pliny who shook his head in disbelief.

The moral of this story is : The path to enlightenment is littered with red herrings.