My best digitally “captured” sunsets and sunrises are more often as not met with yawns, yet the moment I present to the world a tomato worm—outrageously magnified to be sure but, heck, this is show biz—people take note. Confronted by the beast, they invoke such quaint words as esthetics and propriety. Elsewhere, tabloid offerings are lapped up with glee, but an onscreen/in print image of a lowly tomato worm about to attack an innocent tomato is met with unmitigated disgust. (For confirmation of above statement, please see “If Seeking a Dragon Slayer, Please Seek Elsewhere II.”)My critics miss the point. I am convinced an old time poet devoted to spilling tankards of ink depicting dragons on the page only had to peer through magnifying glass at the tomato worm or one of its infinite cousins to find inspiration more vivid than rays emitting from the aforementioned sun in any of its risings or settings. Now gone to bones and occasional mentioning in musty tomes nobody reads these days except fading English majors and other societal misfits, the old dude at least had one up on us in that he saw majesty whereas we turn away with a collective shudder. Alas, a confession is called for. Part II of “If Seeking a Dragon, Please Seek Elsewhere” contained three typos, as pointed out by “friends” seldom seen without packets of salt for rubbing into typographical wounds. Thanks, as always. When it comes to gentleness, tomato worms put lambs to shame. Typos bite.