Categories ▸ Personal
It's just a minor chest wound.
I have an interview over at The Setup, for those of you who are interested in cursor-gazing.
My friend John Pollock died yesterday. I'll leave it to others to write up his many contributions to philosophy and computer science. I wanted to take a moment to remember him as the hard-charging mountain biker he was. He introduced me to biking shortly after I moved to Tucson, and he spent a lot of time driving me and many others all over Southern Arizona to ride on desert singletrack. Despite being almost twice my age he (and several others even older) would routinely leave me behind on the trail, cranking up hills or blasting down them.
Laurie in the process of getting her third degree TKD black belt this weekend. These skills come in handy with the stroppier sort of commenter or more patronizing variety of audience question at the Eastern APA.
While at a conference in Germany over the weekend, I was initially quite chuffed by the greeting on my hotel-room TV:
But I quickly learned I am quite unable to compete on this front:
Somewhat more substantively, the conference, on norms and values, was attended by a bunch of interesting philosophers and political science types of a generally soft rat-choice disposition. As it happens, this week Aaron Swartz is writing about Jon Elster's recent book, Explaining Social Behavior: More Nuts and Bolts for the Social Sciences.
Because I have no talent for or interest in it, I have been putting off dealing with my garden—or yard, as we say in America. Although the landscaping is now on the domestic agenda, it may have been a serious error to wait so long. Because, over the past few months, this … thing … has grown up with astonishing rapidity by the side of my house, next to the A/C unit.
Seeing as the kids are on the front page, indulge me a bit. My wife had a baby boy early yesterday morning (hurray!) and this morning I brought our three-year-old daughter up to see the new arrival. She has in principle been getting used to the idea of being a big sister for a while, and was excited to meet him. As we're walking in she says, “What is that thing on your wrist, Daddy?
So, in a fit of nostalgia I picked up a DVD of Wanderly Wagon episodes. Although marketed as “Vol 1” it seems to be a slightly haphazard collection of episodes, as these were the days (the 1970s) when most programs were not preserved on videotape. The second scene in the first episode re-introduces us to the character shown here, Sneaky Snake. I had forgotten about his fez. But the tiny rush of adrenaline that I felt as he hoisted himself up on his bench (prehensile tail and all) next to Dr Astro reminded me how much he used to scare the bejaysus out of me when I was a kid.
I'm sure you're all tearing your hair out with frustration or worry, so I apologise for not posting much. For the past week I have been on a very tiny island on the south end of the Rangiroa atoll, in French Polynesia. No internet access there. Also no electricity.
In other news, it turns out that if you write a book called Last Best Gifts then the website for it gets a big surge in hits from Google searches in the weeks before Christmas, but not because people are suddenly interested in the topic.
A comment by Bitch PhD reminded me that this week I'll have been blogging for four years. I'm not sure what to think about that, so let's look at some data. Here is a time-series of the number of posts per month on my blog from its inauspicious beginning in May 2002 to the present. (Since CT started, I've just posted the same material to my own blog, so the trend represents all my posts.
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