On That Farm He Had Duck

 This will be note #37 in this blog. By the way, 37 is a prime number !  Note #1 in this blog was EIEIO, and one is another prime number !  That must mean something. Or not. We humans find meaning in the most unlikely places, here a quack, there a quack, everywhere a quack quack.

I spent a chunk of yesterday reading about complex system theory and emergence, which reminds me that whatever I think I know, it is a fragment of what there is to know. Having already said most of what I knew before, an oink-oink here and a baa-baa there, this feels like the end of the blog. But maybe I will wake up tomorrow to bark up the wrong tree one more time. Look for another blog soon, everywhere a bow-wow.

The previous blog was called Notes That Missed the Basket. It began with square one, The Meaning of Meaning, and went on for 144 episodes, which is the square of a dozen. It finished with a note entitled The End, the squarest title I could think of. But I lied; it wasn't the end, and neither is this. Look for the next blog, Still Missing the Basket, coming soon.  When I have it all figured out, I plan to finish up with a note entitled The End of The End, (The End Squared). After that you can decide whether it means something. 

Until then, try to be patient.