Knowitall


︎︎︎ Pierre Minar

︎ Jan 7, 2026

Bluetooth technology is named for a Viking

George Washington told dirty jokes about avocados

            “Alligator pears,” he called them

He wasn’t as tall as you think

A Viking named Halfdan carved his name in Constantinople in 1100 AD

George Washington was gifted at the organized retreat
            which should be impressive to you
            because most soldiers
            die during the rout, once their wills sap

Every moment counts

Like the moment when your phone call vanished:
Ignition then Bluetooth spindles carving your name—
   
            Look closely at Adam’s finger
            He’s holding back a little

            Either that or we’re seeing
            the Big Bang moments after
            God finishes up in the kitchen

****

My friends all laughed
            when I told them the surface of the sun
            was not very hot

“It’s closer to your oven than you think,” I said;

They mocked me
            not like the soldiers mocked Jesus
            but closer than you think

“How hot?” they asked

                            Before I tell you
                            what I said,
                            form a number
                            in your head
                            How many zeros?
                            Could it bake bread?
                            How hot is too hot
                            before you are dead?

“I think like 2000 degrees”

Someone’s Bluetooth fingers cross
            carnation sky to Siri
            on the kitchen island

She says the surface of the sun is 10,000 degrees

“Wrong wrong wrong” these gargoyles,
            my friends, snarled, sour grape skins
            in their wolf teeth

“Fine fine fine,” I say, unfazed at my error
            my point is not about numbers
            it’s about the gulf between
            the sun’s surface and core

            (I’m trying to paint life precise
            My cosmology grows
            when I remember to listen
            instead of waiting
            for my turn to talk)

So they query the robot again
            Officious, demanding she
            serve warm schadenfreude,
            which Wikipedia tells us is a “loan word”
            from German, as if English might
            give it back one day

The core of the sun is twelve million degrees, she says;
            A stupid, meaningless number
            Go ahead, take the robot’s side
            I fight for the living

So I said we have so much more
than George Washington, who married
for money (I’m changing the subject)

I’m not good with numbers
We carve our name deeper than a Viking in marble
We can move faster than they ever could
            though our retreat
            will not be well-organized
            because we are all so impatient
            to hear the filthy punchline



Pierre Minar is an able horseman.

Also by Pierre: The men at the cafe