One time I heard someone equate music with the position of everything in space. This was at a lecture at the University of Manitoba, the theme was “the self” and the speaker was an astrologer from California. I was a teenager wondering about the occult and Zipora Pottenger-Dobyns struck me as different than everyone else identified with astrology. When I asked about her reasoning, she explained astrology’s affect upon people stemmed from “the sound” of the universe when you were born. I thought this plausible or to put it another way how can you dispute people who believe when Zeus was angry he threw lightning bolts? Something poetic about the sound or song of the universe at the instant you were born but maybe more interesting is how many times people invest themselves in a serious study of make believe. In those days the plausibility of tarot cards, sea monkeys and the coded messages about Paul McCartney’s death (clearly indicated in the Magical Mystery Tour artwork) loomed large in my plausibility studies. I liked her idea and wanted to imagine it true, that there was a sound to the universe the instant you were born and that that had an affect on your personality. Eventually, I dropped that line, but there is another sound I’ve noticed and its affect on your personality and everything else. It’s between the ears, endlessly telling itself about every complaint.