(no subject)
The respective situations re. Mark, Marc, Geoff, Monkey, and whoever else I've forgotten with their panties in a knot has officially deteriorated to drama, so I won't bore you with it.
Well, maybe a 'lil.
Mark is seeing someone new, too. Clover, a girl who used to train with us. I know it's completely hypocritical and makes no sense whatsoever to be upset, but... I am. Of course I didn't tell him that - I told him I was happy for him. But.
Anyways.
I spent most of today in a philosophy symposium, which was all kinds of fun. It was on social issues in Latin America. My school is really big on Latin America. Especially Paraguay. A couple of years ago, a bunch of grad students set up a fair trade deal with a few villages in Paraguay, and it's supported entirely by the school, and we're a pretty small school so you can imagine. Most of the lectures were good: climate change, the whole Chavez-China thang, the usual.
Except one. One of the philosophy profs, Oscar (yes, we call our profs by their first names. Like I said, small school) decided to cover reproductive rights. Well. His lecture had to do with Latin America long enough to rev everybody up about forced sterilization before he dove into his pro-life spiel.
I normally don't touch the abortion thing with a ten-foot pole, but opinions and feelings aside, there just aint no excuse for shoddy logic. Fallacies! Everywhere!
Anyways.
After that, I went antique book hunting, and had a close encounter of the Twain kind. I was sifting through books at one of the 2nd hand stores downtown, and a woman next to me picked up an antique-looking book and started flipping through it. "Hmm," she said after a minute, "You look like you know about this sort of thing. Any idea what this is?"
It was an edition of Twain's Conneticut Yankee. Like any good book hunter, I started flipping through for a publiation date.
No date.
.....could it be? I thought. Naw. No way.
But I flipped to the back page anyways. And sure enough.... "End of Manuscript". It was a manuscript of Twain's book. Like, with editorial changes intact and everything.
I tried to get across to this woman what she'd just stumbled across, but I didn't get much more of a blank stare out of her. She ambled out of the store with the oh-so-pretty Twain, and I saw her shove it mercilessly into her purse.
*sigh*
Geekdom is a curse.
Well, maybe a 'lil.
Mark is seeing someone new, too. Clover, a girl who used to train with us. I know it's completely hypocritical and makes no sense whatsoever to be upset, but... I am. Of course I didn't tell him that - I told him I was happy for him. But.
Anyways.
I spent most of today in a philosophy symposium, which was all kinds of fun. It was on social issues in Latin America. My school is really big on Latin America. Especially Paraguay. A couple of years ago, a bunch of grad students set up a fair trade deal with a few villages in Paraguay, and it's supported entirely by the school, and we're a pretty small school so you can imagine. Most of the lectures were good: climate change, the whole Chavez-China thang, the usual.
Except one. One of the philosophy profs, Oscar (yes, we call our profs by their first names. Like I said, small school) decided to cover reproductive rights. Well. His lecture had to do with Latin America long enough to rev everybody up about forced sterilization before he dove into his pro-life spiel.
I normally don't touch the abortion thing with a ten-foot pole, but opinions and feelings aside, there just aint no excuse for shoddy logic. Fallacies! Everywhere!
Anyways.
After that, I went antique book hunting, and had a close encounter of the Twain kind. I was sifting through books at one of the 2nd hand stores downtown, and a woman next to me picked up an antique-looking book and started flipping through it. "Hmm," she said after a minute, "You look like you know about this sort of thing. Any idea what this is?"
It was an edition of Twain's Conneticut Yankee. Like any good book hunter, I started flipping through for a publiation date.
No date.
.....could it be? I thought. Naw. No way.
But I flipped to the back page anyways. And sure enough.... "End of Manuscript". It was a manuscript of Twain's book. Like, with editorial changes intact and everything.
I tried to get across to this woman what she'd just stumbled across, but I didn't get much more of a blank stare out of her. She ambled out of the store with the oh-so-pretty Twain, and I saw her shove it mercilessly into her purse.
*sigh*
Geekdom is a curse.