Playground

The old playground has been destructed. Construction on the new one begins today. I have mixed feelings about that. Why today?

I know the convoluted sequence of events that led to today being the day that it starts. I can’t really blame any individual person. It had to start some day. It just worked out to be today.

The Past and The Future from The Past with Historical Revisionism

I wrote this post more than a year before now. I posted it. I think everyone who has known me for more than a week has read this post. So, you may ask why repost it? Could it be that I want to relive the glory of the past? Nope. That’s not it. Could it be that I’m dreadfully lazy? That would be an excellent guess except that if I was dreadfully lazy, I wouldn’t be writing this introduction right now. I’d just have C&Ped the thing into the post window and clicked the post button. Better yet, I wouldn’t have written it in the first place and if I had I wouldn’t have bothered saving it. So, no. That’s not the answer either. I’m reposting it because I liked it and wanted to have a go at rewriting it. So, that’s what I’m doing.

Flash Jumble

I’ve seen people writing really short things without context. I’m halfway through a cup of coffee. I like taking things out of context. I’m going to finish the cup. I think context is essential to the notion of meaning. I’m only going to have the one cup today though. I’ll go so far as to say information is meaningful only when it is taken in a context. This means that I’ll feel a bit foggy all day. Changing the

Plato

Yeah. I mean that famous dead guy. These days I’ve noticed that some real famous dead guys are having their names malappropriated by people who when to some college or other for a while and then got a marketing job and then while fondly reminiscing about their college days decide to name a new computer program after some famous old dead guy. I think the idea might be that the people who are in charge of buying the program will think that their marketing people sure are clever to have thought of naming their program after some famous dead guy that (by pure coincidence of course - how many famous dead guys

Two Experiments with Time

By the time you see this, both of my experiments will have run their course and I will have the results. At the moment (that I’m writing this - not the moment when you, my reader is reading this), I have only the result from one of my experiments. I suppose that if I wanted to write the way scientists write so that you would be inclined to take this article seriously, I’d have put an abstract at the start and written in a more formal tone. I find such things to be a bit boring to read though I think it may be that it isn’t just the writing that bores me. I think that a great many academic papers are intrinsically boring. This might seem like a strange claim since I also think that the world is intrinsically interesting and worth studying. I don’t feel like explaining that right now. I feel like explaining my experiments.

Where My Ideas Come From

My ideas come from my brain. They burble around in there for a while only partially formed. After they’ve done some good burbling, they come out still partially formed. Sometimes they come out through my fingers. For example this article here that I’m writing now and you’re reading later (from my point of view which is really the one that matters most to me though I’m somewhat curious about your point of view and depending somewhat on who you are, I might actually go so far as to say that I care what you think of the things I write - my criteria are pretty simple: if you like what I write then I care about that and if you don’t like it then I don’t care about your viewpoint).

The Stinking Chair

Last summer, somebody (and I think I know who) left a chair at the back of our house. You might think that was a nice thing but I don’t think it was. It was a ratty chair with cushions. A dog had marked it. We weren’t told that the chair was there and by the time we discovered it, it had rained a few times and the chair was soaked and thus extremely heavy. Since it wasn’t visible from our house and it wasn’t blocking the alley and it was blocking the place where clients of the drug dealers down the street could park, we left it with the hope that someone would steal it (though that was a faint hope since it wasn’t worth stealing). Now, I suppose that I should reveal who I think left the chair. I think it was left by the drug dealers. I don’t think they’re the smartest drug dealers in the

Public and Private Nose Picking

Sometimes, I drive a car.When I’m in my car at a stoplight on a street with more than one lane, I am able to get a good look at other car drivers. I can see what they look like. Sometimes I can see what they’re doing. It seems to me that one of the favourite activities of other car drivers is nose picking. I suspect that they do this far more at stop lights than while zooming along the street. Their hands are free. There isn’t much to concentrate on. So, they farm their nostrils. I have a problem with that. I don’t want to

Snow and a Review

It snowed last night. It didn’t snow much - less than five centimeters but that was enough that a bunch of the trees nearby have broken. One might be a bit irritated with snow in late May but I was pleased with it. We kept the kids up too late last night and so they were all set to be completely groggy in the morning (and I can’t say they weren’t somewhat groggy) but getting up to see a fresh clean white blanket across the world adds good cheer to the morning. Dealing with boots and snow pants didn’t but one can’t have everything.

Poetry and Art

Some days, invention flows from my fingers effortlessly. Other days it doesn’t. As an essentially lazy person, I don’t put in effort to get it to happen. Today is an other day. I am singularly uninspired. Oh well. Since I’m publishing this on the internet, I have the ability to provide some form of entertainment without having to make something up.Please note that I’m not being so presumptive as to think that everything that I make up is a work of golden glory. It isn’t. In point of fact, I have noticed that I have absolutely no clue at all what people will like nor what they will comment on and even further don’t know that those two things are connected to each other. I am somewhat mystified by the numbers that appear in the cute little graph on my dashboard. I’m a bit suspicious that