(no subject)
6.363
The procedure of induction consists in accepting as true the simplest law that can be reconciled with our experiences.
6.3631
This procedure, however, has no logical justification but only a psychological one.
It is clear that there are no grounds for believing that the simplest eventuality will in fact be realized.
6.36311
It is an hypothesis that the sun will rise tomorrow: and this means that we do not know whether it will rise.
It is 80 deg. F and the sun is shining. There is hot coffee in my cup, the dishes are all clean, there is food in the refrigerator, and I have plenty of money in the bank. All of this seems normal to me. Somehow, however, being regular does not stop me from wanting to do little else besides stand at the kitchen window and smoke and wonder about things and watch the steam come out of the vent on the roof of the dry cleaner's place next door. It is not a surprise that I no longer get invited to the bi-weekly administrative/ISD payday happy hour excursions.
I have a headache. Not a hangover. I am waiting for it to go away on its own.
I took some Polaroids of the clouds from that kitchen window. There are five of them, and they are nearly identical, excepting the fifth one. I have also taken pictures of the late afternoon sun coming in through the curtains in the living room and hitting the walls (or at least the ones that haven't been painted black), like little parallelograms of light. I have also taken at least one picture of the exposed copper pipe over the sink in the kitchen, where the landlord has yet to patch up the hole in the wall that he made to get at the pipe in the first place, which was i-don't-know-how-long-ago now.
I took a walk after work one day this week, because I finish at 3:30pm now and there is some light left, but I only took one picture, and it was not a good one. I haven't seen it yet, but I know it will be horrible when I do. I did make it to the record store and got Brahms and Bartok on cassette, for the car, so the walk wasn't a total waste of time. I may scan the Polaroids later, or maybe tomorrow. You'll be the first to know.
I have some email replies to catch up on; I am confident that I will finally get around to that either tonight or tomorrow morning. Ahem. But right now I have to fold the laundry. Wittgenstein doesn't have much to say about that, so I guess I will just go and do it.