A New Year and fridge full of fancy cheese
(My parents sent me home with a bag full of food from brunch at their house.)
In this time of new calendars, marking revolutions around the sun and resolutions soon to be discarded, I have been thinking on the strange nomenclature system I use in this blog. Not so useful or logical as the system for naming molecules (just read your shampoo bottle ingredients to see what I mean), but meaningful just the same.
Readers have asked: Are you a llama? or are you Borg? Well, it's like that wave-particle duality of light. Or Latinate endings that add an "e" to denote a plurals of words that end in "a".
By myself, I'm a llama. And by extension, all those who are related to me are also llamas. But equally, among my family, I enter into a hive-mind consciousness that can only be described as akin to the Borg Collective. So if it's helpful image, imagine us as a herd of llamas with Borg-like hardware.
If that thought disturbs you, maybe you shouldn't be reading this blog. Because there's lots more where that came from.
Some of the players:
Llama: That's me, your snuggly llama-llaw student. Small of stature, but strong of will. Ruminating on all those things you wish you left behind.
M.: My loyal companion. An engineer. A man of few words. He is neither llama nor Borg. Yet resistance is futile. He will be assimilated. Eventually.
m.: Mommy-llama. Part of the Borg. A loyal llama-blog commentator.
sister-llama, brother-llamas, Daddy-Llama: The rest of the Borg
dogs: They live with the rest of the Borg, but are not of the Borg. They need love. Especially your love. Think of them as vampires for affection.
Other players: As they appear.
Setting: Llamaville. A pseudonym for a college town in Northeast KS. It got burned down once during the civil war. The town is extraordinarily proud of that.
Borg Collective: Also name for the permanent or temporary home of the rest of Borg. Currently sparsely populated due to attrition attributed to college attendance and subsequent molting into adult Borg.
In this time of new calendars, marking revolutions around the sun and resolutions soon to be discarded, I have been thinking on the strange nomenclature system I use in this blog. Not so useful or logical as the system for naming molecules (just read your shampoo bottle ingredients to see what I mean), but meaningful just the same.
Readers have asked: Are you a llama? or are you Borg? Well, it's like that wave-particle duality of light. Or Latinate endings that add an "e" to denote a plurals of words that end in "a".
By myself, I'm a llama. And by extension, all those who are related to me are also llamas. But equally, among my family, I enter into a hive-mind consciousness that can only be described as akin to the Borg Collective. So if it's helpful image, imagine us as a herd of llamas with Borg-like hardware.
If that thought disturbs you, maybe you shouldn't be reading this blog. Because there's lots more where that came from.
Some of the players:
Llama: That's me, your snuggly llama-llaw student. Small of stature, but strong of will. Ruminating on all those things you wish you left behind.
M.: My loyal companion. An engineer. A man of few words. He is neither llama nor Borg. Yet resistance is futile. He will be assimilated. Eventually.
m.: Mommy-llama. Part of the Borg. A loyal llama-blog commentator.
sister-llama, brother-llamas, Daddy-Llama: The rest of the Borg
dogs: They live with the rest of the Borg, but are not of the Borg. They need love. Especially your love. Think of them as vampires for affection.
Other players: As they appear.
Setting: Llamaville. A pseudonym for a college town in Northeast KS. It got burned down once during the civil war. The town is extraordinarily proud of that.
Borg Collective: Also name for the permanent or temporary home of the rest of Borg. Currently sparsely populated due to attrition attributed to college attendance and subsequent molting into adult Borg.