Sleeping Cyborg

Jonathan David Page talks about whatever he happens to be thinking about. Sometimes other people join in.

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Twitter, Kafka, Cupcakes, Dinosaurs

by on 4 February 2014
in ,
with some comments, maybe.

Now might be a good time to mention that, if for some truly bizarre reason, you want to receive more regular updates from me, you should follow me on Twitter. If I wrote half as many words here per week as I do there per day, I would post at least twice a week. It’s pretty questionable whether that would be a good thing, but there we go.

I’m typing this while sitting at a bus stop, partially because I have a huge pile of homework to do when I get home, and writing about random things clears my head a bit. Twitter doesn’t really help here, because I get to read as well, which does not at all clear my head. This suggests that a good daily pattern to adopt would be get up, write to clear head, go about day to fill head up, write to clear head again, go to sleep, rinse, repeat. Twitter tends to get more attention though, as it doesn’t require a single large contiguous block of time.

The huge pile of homework is, quite honestly, mostly my doing, though thankfully only a little bit is due tomorrow morning. My classes this semester are:

This evening, coming out of Dr. Warren’s class, I ran into Mr. I-Are, who shanghaied me off to sit in yet another class for fun, despite the pile of homework I have to do this evening, and more importantly the dinner I had not yet had, and thus ended up not getting until nine o’clock. What can I say? He’s a convincing guy. Contagious enthusiasm. Forgot to remind me what the class was about, of course.

(Oh good, the bus arrived. Now my fingers will have a chance to warm up.)

The professor was a rather theatrical gentleman with a way of talking which reminded me immensely of Garrison Keillor, who is on my List of People Who I Want to be When I Grow Up. This list also includes Neil Gaiman, Martin Luther King Jr., Cecil Baldwin, Patrick Stewart and/or Jean-Luc Picard, Spock, Adam Savage, the Lady Ada Countess of Lovelace, Tony Stark, and a T-rex. It’s important to have a variety of role models. We talked about a book called Vertigo, by W. G. Sebald, the original German title of which apparently translates to “Vertigo. Feelings.” It’s largely about Franz Kafka, who I periodically consider adding to my List, except that I already share enough traits with him and it probably wouldn’t be healthy to share any more.

Something else that came up in class, in relation to Herr Doktor Kafka, was the subject of letter-writing. I want to write letters. I’ve wanted to for a long time. I am just lazy, or busy, or tired, or some other excuse. Perhaps this will prompt me to write some long-overdue notes to various relatives abroad.

Incredibly, I am still not home, due to the incredibly sober pace of this bus. What else do I want to say?

Oh! The inestimable and utterly enchanting Joanna Thompson has started a blog about food, called Baking Bad. I’ve added a link in the sidebar. You should definitely go read it. She talks about baking, science, and based on the tagline, running, though I have yet to see any of that on there. I’m sure it’ll show up soon enough, though.

There was a debate between Bill Nye and Ken Ham about creationism earlier this evening. Didn’t get to see it, as I was in class, but the responses I saw afterwards on Twitter were roaringly hilarious. I’ll try to get a hold of a transcript presently and do a commentary. (Maybe.)

I also have another short story to put up here once I’ve finished editing it, so if you liked the last one—which I got a very positive response to, by the way, extremely flattering, thank you so much—you can be excited for that. I have a half-written piece about the Phil Robertson controversy a few weeks back, which I am still ruminating over whether to publish or not. And once I finish my Waba piece, I will probably put that up here as well. So there is some stuff in the works, some of which is either almost done or inevitable.

And here’s my stop. Until next time, ladies and gentlemen.