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Over the many years since the receipt of my Bachelor's degree in English from the University of Michigan, I have probably spent more rewarding hours reading detective stories than any other form of fiction. Such reliance on a particular genre is often viewed as a marked deficiency in taste and erudition, so I'd like to take a few minutes to defend my predilection.

Let me start with an observation from Raymond Chandler, one of the recognized masters of the form.

What do we mean by science?

Most importantly, science consists of the following elements:

As the US political scene transitions from the Democratic successes in the midterms to the beginnings of the 2020 presidential contest, one of the most pressing questions to emerge is whether there is any meaningful middle ground remaining along the political spectrum stretching from left to right.

Any attempt to expound on the subject of love must first come to terms with the problem that we use the word in many different ways and situations. There is romantic love. There is sexual attraction. There is the love of a parent for his or her child. There is the feeling we have for a great work of art. There is an appreciation we have for the natural world around us. Which of these sorts of love are we talking about?