As I was looking for St Ives...

This is my nominee for Funniest Wikipedia Entry EVER.

As I Was Going To St. Ives

I stumbled on it whilst in class looking for St Ives' Hair Repair, and I swear -- I could *hear* John Cleese reading it.

Butsoanyway.

Dinner last night was same as ever, I am still not finished with that writing crap, and I am having my routine all disrupted, and I'm angry. The pitifully few aspects of my life which I can form into a routine are, in my mind, inviolate. Or should be. For this semester, I spend my Mondays being worked into a philosophical froth, and my Tuesdays in a never-ending seminar with my HoD trying to regain my bearings.

And I pick up some luscious crab chowder and have it in class, too.

Now true: this is one drawback to dual-programming it, which I am to a large extent. The running joke in my (main) field is that when I am done, I'll have enough letters to make a whole new name. But I look forward to decompressing on Tuesdays, because this semester I have worked it where (class-wise) I am doing one program on Monday, another on Tuesday, and the rest of the week on this third thing that actually ends up being Job 2, but I'm not going to go explaining how that works out, 'cos it's not that simple. Job 2 is a real job, but I get credit for it in a roundabout way.

Butsoanyway.

So tomorrow I am LOSING my cool seminar so that I can help make a film-like thing at Job 2 that illustrates how cool we are. That's neat, sure. But I will REALLY miss being in seminar, especially cos today was so damned stupid that i could just spit. I mentioned my unrepentant Phenomenologist (actually, I think I originally called him a Holist, but I can't help but be honest) in the Husserl - slash - My Little Pony sense.

No, I really cannot be serious one bleeding minute longer than I absolutely must. Cope.

Well, doesn't this all just drive me up a tree. Keeping my big mouth shut is one of the hardest things I have ever done. Bwaah. Today we were harping without end on behaviours that *I* attribute (bearing in mind that I am not a Behaviourist) to chaining and That Other Thing, Occam's Razor being what it is and all. Simple explanations will suffice, as long as they both describe and predict the behaviour reliably. No need to get fancy.

Well, it would seem that some people *like* fancy.

Whatever. I'm just staying quiet, and really don't give a rat's ass whether Otho and Ingmar make it to the museum, or not. I hope they get lost, jumped by a street gang, rolled, and sold into slavery. Both of them. I hope they end up on a boat to Taiwan for the NAMBLA convention. Otho and Ingmar can kiss my heinie. It is frustrating to not be able to make clear the difference between a thought experiment and an actual experiment, and it's even more frustrating when one is in a room full of people who don't understand why one is frustrated. And it is *most* frustrating when people think they are being clever by perverting thought experiments to quell a legitimate objection, like bringing up the possibility that a hypothetical dog running through a hypothetical forest might stop to take a nap, or some shit. That crap really pisses me off. Bwaah. What if Otho had a lobotomy?!? Wha...wha...we're talking about something that DOES NOT EXIST, probably would not actually occur, and was only brought up for illustrative purposes, as a canned situation! What if Otho had three dicks and a llama named Tyrone? Huh? What then?

Oh, I've learnt my lesson; this semester, I am staying quiet.

Booop.


Oh, wait--I'm not done. It's *also* frustrating for someone to not acknowledge that a reflex is not the same as 'hard-wiring', and then attempt to refute an event that illustrates hard-wiring by listing off why this event isn't a reflex.

Bwaah!

Why am I doing this? I know. That's the obvious question. There really is a point and purpose, I am just whining about the steps *to* that point and purpose. That's all. Humour me; I'm harmless. And I find cool free things. :-)

So now let's go back to whining about how I have to wake up in just a bit and go miss my favourite seminar (it's really hard to tell which I'll miss most -- the class, or the crab chowder), and be all unhappy. Well, unhappy-ish; I do get to get stuff accomplished, and hand out with my boss who is cool and intelligent, and all that jazz. But I don't get to vent this week. That's my point.

And then I have to go out with Mummers tomorrow night, which means that I will miss trivia (yet another hallowed tradition shot to hell). And Valentine's Day is coming up, which means that the Holiday Season is over.

Yep, over.

There is no justice.

.