I awoke before the alarm and hours after a terrible time getting to sleep, for last night the winds were fierce and the whole house shook. With changes in pressure things went pop and crack, and this morning, when I wandered to the dining room things felt colder than usual. I noticed that the door outside to the roof, accessible from $ROOMMATE's office/studio, swung freely. It had been shut and sealed (but not bolted or locked, for that is not an option), and the winds had thrust it open overnight.
When I went to the bus stop, after dumping garbage and recyclables in the bins in back, I encountered K's girlfriend, B, who exclaimed, "BlueOregon, where is your hat!" As I'd forgotten my gloves a few days ago I forgot my cap today, and it was still about seven below, but bright, sunny and calming if not calm in the sun. "I only have to wait a few minutes for the bus," I told her, already feeling the burning sensation, and "Time enough for frost bite," she continued. Perhaps, perhaps, but not today.
Although anyone who is exposed to freezing cold for a prolonged period of time can get frostbite, people who are taking beta-blockers, which decrease the flow of blood to the skin, are particularly susceptible.
[ s o u r c e ]
There was no $DEMIURGE today, and $ÜBERBOSS was working from home if working at all. None of the other folks with offices in the hall were there and it felt as if the building itself was lonely. I tried to work, I put in my hours, but I was eager to leave.
To the library I went.
I went for one book, perhaps two. Paul Guyer and Ted Cohen edited a volume on Kant; it was an edited volume, I'd forgotten the title, but I remember there being an essay toward the end on the of analogy in Kant's natural theology. Or perhaps rational theology, for in Guyer's Cambridge Companion to Kant (not the later and larger Cambridge Companion to Kant and Modern Philosophy, which contains and excellent article on geometry) there is a chapter/article by Allen W. Wood, "Rational theology, moral faith, and religion." However, there is no mention of analogy, and the volume I recall had a section on analogy and theology.
That was just my impetus for venturing to the library, and I found Cohen and Guyer's Essays in Kant's Aethetics (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1982), which is not what I wanted, but it's still good. But before that book (off in the B2799 range with the rest of the Kant material, give or take a few numbers) I was back in the early B area, the mid-700s and the Renaissance. Ralph McInerny's Aquinas and Analogy (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America P, 1996) made it into my collection, and soon my arms were full. I even made a trip to the 7th floor, while while the computer told me that Foucault's The Order of Things (New York: Pantheon, 1970), which I'd previously borrowed from a friend years ago in order to cite and digest the first chapter, was waiting to be checked in—which is just to say, it had not left the building, quite the reverse, but wasn't on the shelf. But I wanted to know for sure, so I went to CB78 and found it ... in French, but I can sorta still read that language, Les Mots et les choses in the original was not what I had in mind. I walked back, found a cart with books waiting to be shelved, and found my baby.
By the end of my madness I'd collected twelve books, and my laptop bag was already full. The older woman behind the counter, who was considerably more conversational and friendly than the college students who often perform the checking-in and checking-out procedure, provided a couple plastic bags, which I doubled bagged and into which I dumped the books.
Off to Ye Olde Coffay Shoppe I went, and later I caught a bus home. Beans were on sale at the co-op, so I bought some. For black beans and rice with some nice balsamic. For later.
Later this evening A called from the former Yerba Buena and we talked for ages, which made me delay in my posting of this nonsense.
Earlier, before $ROOMMATE stopped by (see: below), I read issue 60 of Y: The Last Man by Brian K. Vaughan, who has taken on writing duties over at Lost.
I finished my hour-after-hour Johnny Cash marathon and put together a more eclectic playlist for the evening, one which included bad 80s rock and metal, big hair and all, as well as a heavy dose of Eurotrash and the like. There are few clips of Timna Brauer (1986 Eurovision performance for Austria ... quite dated) available online, though I found one of her singing a version of Sei Yona, which can be found on her album "Tefila" ("Prayer"), which I consider quite enjoyable and lively. Her father, Arik Brauer, is even more difficult to track down, though I found two clips that feature him, albeit tangentially. Austrian television ran a segment on The Beginnings of Austropop (featuring Marianne Mendt, Andre Heller, Wolfgang Ambros, Georg Danzer, and Arik Brauer ... in other words, names that mean nothing to any of us)—alas, the segment is entirely in German. The singer Esther Ofarim also speaks briefly with Brauer as part of the production "Esther in Israel," before she sings the song "Yo M'enamori d'un Aire" by Manuel Valls (1665–1747—I'm just citing the description of the video).
In "food news," a "video of workers abusing cows raises food safety questions"—
The video, which one lawmaker said raises questions about the safety of the nation's food supply, shows Hallmark Meat Packing Co. workers administering repeated electric shocks to the downed cows—animals that are too sick, weak or otherwise unable to stand on their own. Workers are seen kicking cows, jabbing them near their eyes, ramming them with a forklift and shooting high-intensity water up their noses in an effort to force them to their feet for slaughter.
The N.Y. Times, in "A Befuddlement of Liquor Laws" (you might recall that I love be-verbs), discusses matters concerning the absurdity of our current three-part liquor system (producers, distributors, retailers), but the article isn't interested in taking a position. It's all rather shallow, but then again so am I.
- Alcohol: 30
- Ice Cream: 30
- Finishing a book: 2
- Finishing a comic: 0
- Watching a movie: 1
Tomorrow (Thursday) season 4 of Lost premieres; I'll likely watch.
Shortly after I'd finished dinner my roommate stopped by to pick up some books, so we chatted, and the talk turned toward our work—it (the talking) left me exciting and invigorated, and somehow I need to get more such talking in my life. It's just me, a terminal, and a room or two or three of books. One days that I do not work it's easy to go without seeing any people, except perhaps from this second floor window, and even on days when I do go to work and $DEMIURGE isn't in, it's easier to pass dozen or hundreds of people on the street(s) or to sit next to several as I commute to and from, but not to actually engage any of them.
Toward the end of my discussion with $ROOMMATE the phone rang and I felt obligated to pick it up. It was my father; there was no bad news or tragedy; we talked; it was good to keep in touch.
It's hovering near zero now but should get up to about 20 tomorrow, which will feel like a spring thaw after the past two days.
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