What Sh*t Is Made Of

I just found myself earnestly Googling "pterosaur poop composition."  No dice, it turns out not many other people in the world are as curious about that as I am.  It says something if you need to know something that Google can't find.  But then, now there is Google Scholar...

But how do we really know?!  We would have to know what pterosaurs ate and how their digestive system worked.  With so much erased about the past, we can only make conjectures.

Everything is a guess.  What is knowledge anyway?  We really can't know anything.  Does this bed in front of me exist?  I think so, but I could not exist, and this bed might not, either.  Religion, by definition, is definite (e.g. "God exists and that's the truth; you can't disprove it"), and I think that is why people are drawn to it.

Science is futile.  Scientific method, after all, is a man-made concept.  But it's fun.  Exercising our brains to figure out things we don't need to know for basic survival is a human privilege / gift from God, and we should take advantage of it!

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"A Night in Tunisia" is a good tune... I don't know what Tunisia looks or sounds like, so to me it sounds like walking through a crowded but mellow bar with wooden furnishings in the 1930s.  Dressed in black, downing whiskey, lost in the saxophone melody...  haha!  Times like this I feel like I was born in the wrong decade.  Good thing live jazz is still around and accessible.