The Danish Waterfall They speed toward the Danish waterfall chewing over the century's ills. The cook, while preparing sturgeon-slightly off-pleads passionately for donations to build the Seaman's Chapel. The First Officer spits into the rapids decrying the loss of job security. The spray of water in the Captain's face the rushing of trees and rocks the rapid-fire indecision of men in a reluctant hurry- "The Falls, boys, the Falls!" The Captain takes out his ship's log and finds the first page missing- the cocked eye of the oarsman. The question of loyalty cannot be adequately addressed. No time for the purifying lash, the instructive example, the- -at the edge of the falls, they reach consensus: discussions of navigation, mortality, rules of engagement, rations will have to wait. Wait until the next raft, the next expedition, the next great urge, the next plunge, splash into the heart. This has been a day of active wonder a day to suspend rank and rancor, to gather up what small hope is left and to live well beneath the foam. The word is spoken, the day is yours! Gather up your dead-sort out your nobles from your common men. Look no more on God and carry freely through white waters the weight of all there is to do in this new world. Joseph Coroniti Back to the Astrophysicist's Tango Partner Speaks