Jonathan David Page talks about whatever he happens to be thinking about. Sometimes other people join in.
A collection of cool people and projects.
I like footnotes.
They represent a certain amount of nonlinearity in my prose. If I have a point which is relevant, but doesn't fit anywhere in the flow of thought in the paper, I can separate it out from the text, to be perused at the reader's leisure.
On the other hand, if I have a point which doesn't fit into the flow, it begs the question of whether it really is relevant, and if so, whether it should fit into the flow after all. Therefore, I tend to find myself either rewriting footnotes into the main prose or just outright deleting them. On occasion, I have even found myself (on this blog) turning footnotes into separate posts, or even replacing the original post with the footnote, because it was far more interesting.
I like footnotes because they provide a convenient holding place for ideas before they go elsewhere. Not to say that I don't enjoy a good footnote -- simply that I don't often find a good reason to keep them around beyond the draft stage.
While working through the thesaurus for a project, I came across an entry under "falseness" which I did not expect: ambidexterity
A quick trip to the dictionary confirms. Ambidexterity does indeed have "duplicity" as a meaning, along with "ability to use both hands equally well".
All I can say is that anyone who has seen The Princess Bride should have a pretty good idea of why this is the case.
In which I take a short break from studying to contemplate something banal which popped into my head.
It seems that I study best in the lofty heights of the D. H. Hill Library. There, accompanied by some sort of caffeine-laden beverage, I can concentrate on getting large amounts of work (or procrastination) done.
My latest study bender -- powered by several shots of espresso -- reminds me of a sort of journey of spiritual self-discovery. The initiate heads off to some lofty mountain peak, with his stimulants and whatnot, to contemplate life, the universe, and everything, and perhaps achieve enlightenment. Or in my case, heads off to the upper floors of the library tower with an overly strong cup of coffee at some obnoxious time of night to contemplate the niceties of certain Native American languages, a topic which no doubt set my mind on this track, in the hopes of getting a decent grade.