It's hard to decide when every decision feels like the wrong one. And here we see the problem of using feelings as decision-making tools. One decision is not wrong, but I can only know after the fact. Cruel. But incredibly exciting.

Also, cruel.

Also, exciting.


On third thought, why does only one decision have to be right?


I'd still rather be me, but I am learning a lot from you--your passion for the "minutia" of life and everything it entails. Bad luck may follow you in games of chance, but in the cliche "game" you (clichely) make your own luck. And what an amazing concept I'm just beginning to embrace. My personal diagnosis: A classic case of mind/body dichotomy. Since my rediscovery of reason, I've been adamant about my philosophy and how it guides my intellectual and professional life--to talk in dichotomous terms. Yet I've been slow, if not reluctant, to apply the same sort of practical application of philosophy to my personal life. It happens. Slowly--not even methodically, just slowly. Not quickly enough, though. And here you are. A living example of how to do it--even if, at times, you have no idea what you're doing--an inspiration if not a model. But both more often than not.


Judd Apatow has become one of my all time favorite writer/directors. Praise be to him.


We are now, officially, old enough for drama--though I'm sure you'd argue that we were never too young.

Fine. Perhaps. But we're definitely old enough now.

So your apology for the dramatic seems unnecessary, yet I find it fascinating that it's the part for which you feel the need to apologize.

Funny, isn't it, that not so long ago it was I who had a long way to go before I could stop feeling inferior--many thanks to Mihm, Hesse, AJE, Rand, and others. I "got" there "some day." And yet it wasn't too late--because neither my self-esteem nor time were the proper conditions under which the referent "it" would necessarily change.

"Everything is conditional," says House. "You just can't always anticipate the conditions." Love is conditional. You just can't always anticipate the conditions. Life is conditional. You just can't always anticipate the conditions. My life is conditional. You just can't always anticipate the conditions. Your life is conditional. I just can't always anticipate the conditions. ("You" and "I" bolded in two separate sentences about the conditions of love, life: Apropos.)

When you say, "It just might be too late," I literally do not know what you mean. I know how to read the combination of words, to put together what they might mean in other contexts--e.g. if I can't get on the heart transplant list, "it just might be too late." But aside from their structural meaning, I cannot understand their significance or point. Very seldom can I admit such an ignorance of contextual meaning (outside of my short-lived discussions of time travel), but in this situation, it seems more appropriate to be forthright with this feeling of "uh...woof" than to disregard it and pretend to know. Faked knowledge is an evasion of reality, and I've been trying to evade evasion for quite some time now.

The following is a list of my expectations to rectify my ignorance:
[null set]

The following is a list of my desires to rectify my ignorance:
1. Converse.
2. Not make assumptions no matter how grand or minuscule.
3. Go on living my life.
4. Who is John Galt?

I am not making mole hills out of mountains or mountains out of Floam or mountains out of macaroni and Elmer's glue. The meaning you ascribe to your words is important to my rational self-interest in many different ways, but not more important than my life. The meaning you ascribe to your words is important to your rational self-interest in many different ways, but not more important than my life.

A is A. What is B, I wonder...

Yet I'm reminded of another House moment:

Wilson: I'm curious...
House: No you're not.

Is this entire post rhetorical? What's the alternative? Who is John Galt?

A student recently said to me, "I see the point, and I have no counter argument, but I disagree." The basis for his disagreement was the fact that he wanted the point to be false. The Universe doesn't care what you believe. Somehow, though, I think this entire post is connected in some weird sort of way. I don't have time to think about it. I'll just assume it's true.


deus ex machina

There are moments when we have our own flashbacks--brief and fleeting an intensely moving. Something we experience sends us back, filling in a forgotten moment of a life that resembles our own but somehow fascinates us with its simplicity. They're not revelations--but scenes. They're not memories in the immediate sense--but shots, angles, arcs. The mind's peripheral vision: items moving toward and away from clarity with our focus and the lighting. Something reminds us of that cut and we relive it. And it retells a part of the story, a part long since un-remembered--not in the bad or painful sense, more so a rank ordering. Was it, at the time, important that I remembered the theme to "Fraggle Rock"? No. But having that flashback, that brief cut, allowed me to make a connection--a connection I had un-remembered. It moved the plot: unexpectedly.


If you're afraid to look silly once in a while, nothing good will ever happen.

Thank you, old guy on House.