And don't get me started on the coffee and Gamera.
Mid-week, I'd gotten down to 167 on the scale. That went up to 169 and then I finished with work week at 168. I blame bagels, cream cheese and lack of will power for the gain.
Lifting was unexpectedly difficult on Wednesday and Friday. I don't really know why. It was just harder than normal.
I still haven't worn the Vibram Five Fingers to run my three mile circuits on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Just wearing them on the other days of the work week while I do my morning mile (and cool down walk after lifting) has my metatarsals aching by Friday. The aching is not as severe as it was several weeks ago. But it is there. So I'm not pushing. I'll coast until it subsides enough that I think it reasonable to inch forward on the progress front.
Washed out Aussie footy jock takes US team to nationals. This leads to the obvious joke, is not winning a US national Australian rules football tournament akin to winning an argument on USENET?
An encouraging tale: a small island almost reaches energy independence. ``the island produces just enough electricity for its needs . . . its heating plants, burning wheat and rye straw grown by its farmers, cover only about 75 percent of the island’s heating needs.''
I've never read any of Herta Müller's poetry but her tale of persecution by the Romanian state under the Ceauşescu regime is moving.
A friend of mine who thinks he's a conservative sent me a email link to `Australian' political cartoons that they would `never publish' in the US. One of them was by S. Kelley and was stamped with the copyright of the Times-Picyune which I'm pretty certain is a New Orleans paper. What's worse is that most of them weren't even funny. Although, a couple did get a chuckle out of me.
But the best part was the banner of the web site they were hosted at. It proudly proclaimed itself as being ``a free press for the conservative revolution.'' While I realize that conservatism is not monolithic and, in fact, comes in many forms, I think it fair to say that one of its defining aspects across all of its forms is a revulsion towards revolution.
Work has been a bit stressful for me lately. Sometimes problems are hard to fix. One problem, that I alluded to in my last diary, ended being solved by me taking over the reigns from a system administrator. Another problem was figuring out how to work around a brain-dead report writing sub-system. (Hurrah for third party embedable widgets made by companies which are no longer in business!) Dealing with these sorts of obstacles is bad enough when you're working a forty-five or fifty hour work week. But 8 hours extra to get one project going and 4 extra hours to help so and so out with another project takes a mother loving huge bite out of a twenty hour work week.
On the other hand, I do feel appreciated. My immediate supervisor put out the word that folks should use me as the first resource for SQL questions rather than the guy that know everything who is overly busy ever since the other guy that knows everything quit early in the summer. One cow-orker asked for help with a query. I knew the answer off the top of my head. After work he said something to the effect of ``I sure like asking you better than that a-hole I usually have to ask.'' I suppose that could be construed as being damned with faint praise. But I like helping people out.
In my class on Hobbes' Leviathan, our professor brought in a translation of a poem Hobbes wrote in another work (it may have been from De Cive). The poem compared life to a race and sought to explain all of the workings of the human mind in terms of the the runners involved. It was interesting because recently I ran a real race for the first time. And with regards to the psychology of running a race, I think Hobbes was spot on.
Which got me to thinking that an interesting project would be to evaluate philosophy as a psychology of the philosopher. Whatever a given thinker's philosophical writings might tell us about the way things are, they tell us far more about the mind of the thinker.
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