Dear Dr. Boli: Why are space aliens not visiting us? With all the stars in the galaxy and all the planets spinning around them, there have to be intelligent beings who have overcome the trivial difficulties of faster-than-light travel. Yet they never visit. They never even text me. Are they snobs or what? —Sincerely, Neil deGrasse Tyson.

Dear Sir: It is true that the abundance of worlds in our galaxy makes it improbable that there are no other forms of life out there. They might consider it unwise, however, to get themselves mixed up with unpredictably primitive civilizations. It is likely, therefore, that something about our civilization strikes them as primitive. If we look at our planet from an outsider’s point of view, with an unbiased eye, what we notice immediately is that we still have weather. An extraterrestrial species evaluating our world for potential cultural exchange or commercial exploitation would seize on that detail as indicative of the state of our civilization as a whole. “They still have weather,” the scouts’ report would say. “Until they can get their act together and cooperate enough to implement some rudimentary meteorological planning, it is safe to assume that their planet is unprofitably and even dangerously disorganized; their culture has nothing to teach us, and a risk/benefit analysis of the commercial possibilities does not persuade us that this species could be profitably exploited.”

You should consider the possibility, however, that certain advanced extraterrestrial beings would be willing to meet suitably forward-thinking members of the human species on a private basis, subject of course to sensible non-disclosure agreements. Once you have considered that possibility thoroughly, you should show up at the Grandview Park bandstand at half past eleven tonight and bring a good Riesling. For some reason they are particularly fond of Riesling.

…that a rose by any other name would have a far lower Google ranking?

…that the first stationary bicycle was an embarrassing manufacturing error?

…that the Jerusalem artichoke is neither from Jerusalem, nor a choke, nor arty in the least degree?

…that the American Robin (Turdus migratorius) can sing all the songs of Isham Jones except “It Had to Be You”?

…that, in defiance of Darwinian orthodoxy, sponges evolved hundreds of millions of years before the first kitchen sink?

…that Pharaoh’s command to make bricks without straw was a process innovation universally endorsed by today’s brick manufacturers?

…that cumulus clouds are entirely imaginary?

Dear Dr. Boli: I was in the dollar store looking for Zimbabwean dollars, which they didn’t have, but what they did have was oven mitts with the slogan “Enjoy the Journey” printed in cheerful script. And what I want to know is, Where is my oven going? —Sincerely, A Man Who Was Hoping to Be a Trillionaire.

Dear Sir: Your oven is on a journey of self-discovery. It may have grander ambitions: perhaps it dreams of becoming a kiln or a furnace. Or it may be in the early stages of a midlife crisis. This is a voyage on which your oven must travel alone, but you could show solidarity by buying an oven mitt with a cheerful slogan. After all, your oven has taken the heat for you plenty of times.

Third Series.

By our staff artist.

Laughing Gull (Leucophaeus atricilla).—A team of ornithologists from Duck Hollow University have undertaken a multi-year study to determine exactly what laughing gulls are laughing at. So far their working hypothesis is that the birds are laughing at teams of ornithologists.

ABOUT MICROSOFT WINDOWS.

Third Series.

Bay leaves.—It is well known among professional chefs that bay leaves have only decorative value, but the fact is not usually mentioned in public for fear of widespread panic.