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Arthur S. ReberI’ve spent over fifty years living two parallel lives. In one I am a semi-degenerate gambler, a poker junkie, horse player, and blackjack maven; in the other, a scientist specializing in cognitive psychology and related topics in the neurosciences, the origins of consciousness and the philosophy of mind. For the most part, I’ve kept these tracks separate mainly because my colleagues in each have little appreciation for the wonder, the complexities and the just full-bore fun in the other.

But over time these two avenues of my life have meshed. There’s a lot that we know about human psychology that can give us insight into gambling, especially poker and, of course, there’s a lot that poker can teach us about human psychology. It is quite astonishing how richly these topics interlock. I’ll also introduce you to some engaging characters I’ve known – bookies, con artists, hustlers, professional poker players and perhaps an occasional famous scientist.

This site will wander about in both worlds with new columns and articles along with links to scores of previously published ones. Now that I’ve retired I’ve become something of a political junkies and will go on rants on politics and economics,  When the mood strikes I’ll share views on food, restaurants and cooking. Any and all feedback is welcome.

Entries in Fiction (1)


A drink with Vicky

Ricky: “Well I’ll be damned, it’s Vicky G. Vicky. How are you?”

Vicky: “Hmm….”

Ricky: “Vicky? It’s been what, at least a year, maybe two?”

Vicky: “Hmmmm….”

Ricky: “The Tango Club, right? Heck of a night. Hey, can I get you the next one?”

Vicky: “Huh?”

Ricky: “Next one, next drink.”

Vicky: “Hmmm….”

Ricky: “It’s kinda neat seeing you again.”

Vicky: “Not really.”

Ricky: “What?”

Vicky: “I said ‘No, not really’.”

Ricky: “You said what? Not really what?”

Vicky: “Not really neat seeing you again, Ricky.”

Ricky: “I’m confused. Why not?”

Vicky: “’Cause I’m not talking to you.”

Ricky: “Hello?”

Vicky: “I don’t talk to you.”

Ricky: “Well, obviously that’s not true.”

Vicky: “Hmmm….”

Ricky: “You don’t talk to me?”

Vicky: “Nope, not since then I don’t.”

Ricky: “Not since when? What when? And why?”

Vicky: “That night, Tango Club.”

Ricky: “Yeah, okay, Tango.”

Vicky: “Right. Tango.”

Ricky: “But why?”

Vicky: “You don’t remember?”

Ricky: “I do not. I am confused.”

Vicky: “I’m not.”

Ricky: “What happened?”

Vicky: “You don’t remember, do you?”

Ricky: “No, I don’t.”

Vicky: “Hmm…. Well, I don’t talk to you anymore. Not since then.”

Ricky: “Vicky?”

Vicky: “Yes?”

Ricky: “I’m thinkin’ I, like maybe blew it that evening? Like I maybe pissed you off?”

Vicky: “You did.”

Ricky: “If you tell me what I did it might help.”

Vicky: “You don’t remember?”

Ricky: “No, I don’t. We have established that.”

Vicky: “I can’t believe it.”

Ricky: “But I don’t. I just don’t.”

Vicky: “Forget it then.”

Ricky: “Forget? How can I forget what I don’t remember?”

Vicky: “Hmmm….”

Ricky: “Listen, if I hurt you …..”

Vicky: “Hmmmm.…”

Ricky: “Oh, fuck this. Do you want an apology?”

Vicky: “No.”

Ricky: “Why not?”

Vicky: “Because it won’t be one.”

Ricky: “Why not?”

Vicky: “Because you don’t know what you’d be apologizing for. It won’t count.”

Ricky: “Well then, what do you want me to do?”

Vicky: “Forget it.”

Ricky: “Okay, forgotten, not remembered. Same shit. You want a drink?”

Vicky: “No. Not from you. I don’t talk to you.”

Ricky: “Vicky.”

Vicky: “What?”

Ricky: “You don’t remember either, do you.”

Vicky: “Hmmmm….”

Ricky: “Do you?”

Vicky: “No.”

Ricky: “Why …”

Vicky: “Why I’m not talking to you?”

Ricky: “Yeah, and what I did.”

Vicky: “Right. What …”

Ricky: “And why you’re not talking to me.”

Vicky: “Yeah. I don’t know. I just remember I’m really, really pissed at you.”

Ricky: “For like, what, two years?”

Vicky: “Yes.”

Ricky: “But you don’t know why.”

Vicky: “Nope. But it still hurts.”

Ricky: “Kind of off-pissing, isn’t it?”

Vicky: “What? You?”

Ricky: “No, not me. Not remembering.”

Vicky: “Yeah.”

Ricky: “Are you talking to me?”

Vicky: “Obviously.”

Ricky: “Dinner?”

Vicky: “Sure, let’s go. But don’t let it happen again.”