Bang and Whimper

Our worldly possessions have been packed and are shipping out to Denver, and we are no longer residents of Massachusetts. From now on, we reside at:

2449 Uinta St.
Denver, CO 80238

We are traveling out of the country until June 27, but after that date, we will both have new mobile phone numbers:

Michael’s mobile: (303) 242-1086
Emmy’s mobile: (303) 550-5669

I’m not going to lie. I read children’s books. I enjoy reading children’s books. And I am not ashamed. I am so not ashamed that I made myself a shirt:

The line is the motto of a secret organization of noble volunteers in the Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snicket. It is also, incidentally, eerily reminiscent of the first line of a poem by Swinburne that Snicket quoted in the tenth book.

It seems that my girlfriend Emmy is also not (entirely) ashamed of my reading habits. About two weeks ago, we went to paint pottery at a place here in Cambridge. I painted a thoroughly unartistic and unimpressive teacup, but Emmy made me the loveliest mug I’ve ever seen:

Doesn’t she rock?

NP: The Gothic Archies, Smile! No One Cares How You Feel

What leads a convalescent city, in need of heroes and role models, to execute its wisest and most famous citizen? And why would that citizen participate willingly and hasten his own demise?

Athens was a city in decline. Its hegemony had been eclipsed by that of Sparta, and its spirit was flagging. It had suffered a terrible defeat at Aegospotami by the Lacedaemonians, and its democratic ideals had been severely circumscribed by thirty tyrants who controlled the city for almost a year. Many of Athens’ heroes had been disgraced, perhaps most notably Alcibiades.1 Athenian supremacy was no longer certain, and the traditional ideals were everywhere being challenged. Sacrifices were necessary to regain the graces of the gods.

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Emmy gave me tulips Tuesday because… well, because she’s wonderful like that.

NP: Colin Hay, Beautiful World

About a week ago, during my Evidence class, my professor (who tells us the best way to study for our final is “studying and discussing with your fellow students whatever you find genuinely interesting in the course”, so far a refreshingly diminutive set of materials) off-handedly mentioned the “Correspondence Theory of Truth” a couple of times. I must admit that I was unable to follow much of the discussion, or to make much sense of it, but I was inspired to recall my undergraduate course in Epistemology, and to reconsider the Correspondence “Theory” through the foggy lens of my more mature current state of thinking. I have since considered it at very great length, studying both its most vociferous supporters and its most ardent critics. I have traversed the depths of scholarship on the subject, and am prepared to say, without hesitation, that the Correspondence Theory of Truth is, in a word, total buncombe.

(Read more…)

So, I am placing my (not-so) temporary moratorium on posting under a temporary moratorium. I have been encouraged by my Evidence Professor to begin blogging again, so from time to time for at least the next three weeks (until the class ends), I will try to post a few thoughts, most likely tangentially related to class discussions. Then I’ll probably stop again, because being lazy is fun.

NP: Röyksopp, What Else Is There?

Actually, it seems not to be temporary. I moved to Boston months ago, and haven’t written anything since, so signs are bad. If you need to get a hold of me, please see the contact page. I don’t always respond quickly, but I do try to respond.

Update [9/6/2005]: I just switched servers, and I’m redoing all my photos, so many of the links here are broken. They will be for awhile. Apologies to anyone who clicks and gets the 404, but I figure you’re a pretty small audience, and school’s starting up, so I’m a bit busy now.

NP: The Alkaline Trio, Stupid Kid

Last week I attended the 22nd annual croquet match between St. John’s College and the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, MD. Several of my co-workers attended St. John’s, and the event is for them a sort of homecoming. Hundreds, if not thousands, of alumni were on campus not so much to watch the match as to dress in funny clothes and reconnect with classmates. The amount of alcohol consumed in the sun was absolutely astounding. The “athletes” from St. John’s imbibed as much as anyone, and frequently could be seen with two drinks in hand—while playing. Nevertheless (or perhaps as a result), the Johnnies took the tournament handily, winning four of the five matches played. That night, we also attended a cotillion in the St. John’s dining hall, complete with swing band, champagne, and strawberries and cream at midnight. It was quite a way to spend a day.

NP: Palace, New Partner

Okay, cool peoples, time to head over to the Apple site and be enthralled by the Garden State trailer. Garden State, formerly briefly known as Largeman’s Ark, is the babylovechild of Zach Braff, star of the TV sit-com Scrubs. He also stars with Natalie Portman in the film. I am quite digging the trailer, and not entirely because I am digging Nattie P. Looks like it could be rather good. I am officially getting my hopes way up.

NP: Frou Frou, Let Go

There’s a Chinese take-out restaurant across the street from my office, and I usually buy my lunch there once or twice a week. Not surprisingly, I am always given a fortune cookie with my meal. Yesterday, my fortune read:

Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned.

I have no intention of challenging the wisdom of that little gem… but I should say that this restaurant gets the best fortune cookies. They’re a constant source of joy and enlightenment. I think if I eat there enough, my elevated consciousness may lead me to transcend this earthly existence entirely. Some other little nuggets of distilled wisdom from recently consumed fortune cookies:

• In silence man can most readily preserve his integrity.
• Wisdom is only found in truth.
• To be loved, be lovable.
• You have an unusual equipment for success, use it properly.
• It tastes sweet.

Go forth in understanding and spiritual harmony.

NP: Broken Social Scene, late night bedroom rock for the missionaries