Monday Jumble
This morning, I saw a special on terraforming Mars. I finished viewing excited about the possibilities.
I'm reading Shopgirl, by Steve Martin. I have not seen the movie. It's obvious to me that it was written by a comedian. Not because it's funny, but because it bears all the marks of having been written by a person who has spent his life observing other people's behavior. Observation is key to a comedian.
I'm eating tasty ice cream, made all the tastier because it was on sale.
It was said to me recently that a man cannot be friends with a woman, unless he is attracted to her. I think that's utter stupidity, which branded me as being in "denial", or something.
When does the essential nature of "you" end up outside a window? When your head passes through? Shoulders? Heart? Torso? Feet? It's a roundabout way of pondering in which part of our bodies lies our nature, or soul (if you prefer)? The easy answer is "if I can close the window and catch part of you in it, you're not all outside." The hard question is: if I lose all brain function, am "I" still in there?
This afternoon, I came very close to throwing away the key from my keychain that doesn't go to anything I own. This is itself so monumental that I have devoted little time to thinking about it, for fear of coming to any kind of revelation and possibly newly knowing something I wish I didn't.
I'm disgusted by the concept that at the age of 70, I could have a 22 year old wife and a baby daughter, who may not get her driver's license before I die.
As I write more and more entries, I devote more and more time to trying to figure out if I've already written about certain ideas. Good thing there's a search button, and that I predictably use similar words to describe things.
Attractive and well-dressed people must have excellent time management skills, because I can't imagine portioning out more time to looking nice than some people I know.
"It takes a lot of guts to stand up in a room and come out in favor of the things that everyone else is against, like peace and brotherhood and so on..." --Tom Lehrer
I'm reading Shopgirl, by Steve Martin. I have not seen the movie. It's obvious to me that it was written by a comedian. Not because it's funny, but because it bears all the marks of having been written by a person who has spent his life observing other people's behavior. Observation is key to a comedian.
I'm eating tasty ice cream, made all the tastier because it was on sale.
It was said to me recently that a man cannot be friends with a woman, unless he is attracted to her. I think that's utter stupidity, which branded me as being in "denial", or something.
When does the essential nature of "you" end up outside a window? When your head passes through? Shoulders? Heart? Torso? Feet? It's a roundabout way of pondering in which part of our bodies lies our nature, or soul (if you prefer)? The easy answer is "if I can close the window and catch part of you in it, you're not all outside." The hard question is: if I lose all brain function, am "I" still in there?
This afternoon, I came very close to throwing away the key from my keychain that doesn't go to anything I own. This is itself so monumental that I have devoted little time to thinking about it, for fear of coming to any kind of revelation and possibly newly knowing something I wish I didn't.
I'm disgusted by the concept that at the age of 70, I could have a 22 year old wife and a baby daughter, who may not get her driver's license before I die.
As I write more and more entries, I devote more and more time to trying to figure out if I've already written about certain ideas. Good thing there's a search button, and that I predictably use similar words to describe things.
Attractive and well-dressed people must have excellent time management skills, because I can't imagine portioning out more time to looking nice than some people I know.
"It takes a lot of guts to stand up in a room and come out in favor of the things that everyone else is against, like peace and brotherhood and so on..." --Tom Lehrer
Maybe Im weird, but why do you want to wait until youre 70 to marry a 22 year old, then have a kid, then die before she gets to drive? Why would one want to marry someone 48 years younger than themself, have to mess with viagra and stuff like that, and have a kid that he wont be able to hear because he's going deaf? or, well, have a kid in the first place. Yikes!
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