Humans have a propensity to discern faces in random patterns surrounding them. Clouds and crowns of trees are teeming with faces. And so are mountains and valleys between them. How do I know? I see faces everywhere I look, and especially when I am sitting on the toilet and preparing myself for the big push (“Action Shitting,” May 4, 1999). As I was sitting on the toilet yesterday morning, I saw the face of Miroslav Krleža, a Croatian writer of renown, on the nearby floor tiles. No matter how hard I try, though, I cannot find it today. Instead, I see a newborn baby’s face. Fickle beyond compare, faces come and go. Which is why it is hardly surprising that people see faces of both deities and devils everywhere around them, as well. The only surprise is that they do not realize that this is a propensity of their brains, which keep searching for recognizable faces all the while. And those of presumed import come to them with the greatest of ease. Whence Krleža’s face yesterday morning, of course. In the fullness of time, though, Dostoevsky and Proust’s faces are sure to follow. I only wonder when will I spot my own contorted face while sitting on the toilet and preparing myself for the big push…