I don’t subscribe to theories of predestination, notions of a preordained future that foretells events, and I reserve a special brand of contempt for anything forecast by prophesy; I dismiss out of hand the presumption that each of us has some special calling or assignment in life, other than that of our own choosing, and I reject all superstitious beliefs, especially those rooted in the cults that have risen out of a fear of death. But I do embrace the possibility that each of us has the power to create the person we wish to be, that the only limitation imposed is the degree to which we exercise our own imagination and then act upon it: Vision without action is a daydream; action without vision is a nightmare. Confronted with the unhappy apprehension we feel when coming to terms with our own mortality, some of us are selfishly compelled to extend our lives beyond the last act, to leave a little token of ourselves behind - something that tacitly proclaims, “I was here!” Poppycock. To my last breathe, I will strive to illuminate the world by enlightening young minds, yanking the damned blinders off any credulous fool that swoons at the mere mention of a belief in the truth of supernaturalism, and I’ll invite them all to join me as together we stand in awe of a life of our own making and the natural world in which it is inextricably embedded. Ars Gratia, Vita Brevis - art is long, life is short; time to get busy.