caught in the act

that’s all I really have to say.

I’ve been having trouble reading denser books lately. It sucks because I’m interested in what they say. I think my mind has started to weaken because I don’t have anyone to discuss things with. No one would want to talk to me about the economic thought of the Late Scholastics. I wish I was back in an academic environment. I need people to bounce my thoughts off of.

This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

Thought of poor Jessica today while reading The Know-It-All. She was arduously reading about René Descartes for awhile a couple weeks back. I got to study him myself today. Below is the commentary on his entry in the Encyclopaedia Britannica by the guy who read the whole thing.

Descartes, René
René Descartes had a fetish for women with crossed eyes. That’s what it says, right there in the venerable Britannica. The French philosopher loved a lady whose pupils had migrated toward her nose.

I feel a little sorry for Descartes when I learn this, because I can’t imagine there were tons of cross-eyed women in his circle of 17th-century European intellectuals. He should have been a Mayan. Or he should have been born in our era, because nowadays, I’m sure there is a plastic-wrapped magazine called Cross-Eyed Vixens and a subscription-only Web site called hotcrossedeyes.com. But back then, it must have been hard to find an outlet for his fetish. I just hope I don’t learn in the Hs that Thomas Hobbes liked ladies with a hairlip.

There is a reason, though, that this cross-eyed fact is in the encyclopedia. Strangely enough, it has profound philosophical implications. In his Principles of Philosophy, Descartes argues that he was attracted to cross-eyed women because, as a child, he loved a cross-eyed playmate. He says that as soon as he realized the origin of his fetish, he was freed from it and could, once again, love women with normally spaced eyeballs. This insight, says the Britannica, “was the basis for Descartes’s defense of free will and of the mind’s ability to control the body.” Jesus. I wonder if his cross-eyed playmate knew she had such a profound effect on Western thought.

I’ve got to respect Descartes (who, incidentally, gets the Britannica’s coveted double treatment, with writeups in both Descartes and Cartesianism.) I’m sure when he made his cross-eyed confession, it caused some gentlemen at the local French philosophy club to snicker abut René “Le Freak” Descartes. But it’s a nice notion. I like that Descartes has such faith in the power of the mind that he places such high value on self-knowledge. There’s Cogito ergo sum, and apparently there’s also “Cogito about my kinky side, ergo sum free from it.” He was doing Freudian therapy on himself 250 years before Freud bought his first couch.

It’s a nice thought, but I don’t really buy it. I don’t think that you can flip off a passion just because you know where it comes from. If that were the case, there would be a lot fewer bullwhips and fuzzy handcuffs sold in Greenwich Village.

Regardless of whether I agree with Descartes, I’m happy to be pondering heady topics about the power of knowledge, instead of what I used to ponder, which was Wasn’t it funny when that guy on Blind Date last night lost his bathing suit in the hot tub? And if that’s not enough of a good thing, consider this: Descartes liked to stay in bed till 11 A.M.—good ammunition the next time anyone gives me flack about sleeping late.

And if I’ve taken too much of this book and posted it here, oh well. If someone forces me to take it down, it’s just something exciting to write about.

For Julie, and anyone else it might apply to.

You might look to this list of qualifications for being a great journalist who may also aspire to be an anchorwoman one day, courtesy of Douglas Adams:

She had what it took: great hair, a profound understanding of strategic lip gloss, the intelligence to understand the world and a tiny secret interior deadness which meant she didn’t care.

Went to a show at The Independent last night with Jessica. She knew of this band Bishop Allen that was playing. They had some songs on their site. Not bad but I felt like I needed to be in the right mood to listen to them. The opening band, Send For Help, also had songs on their website, but I really liked them. Enough to go to the show even.

Send For Help was slightly disappointing live, but that was mostly due to the drunken-acting singer. I’d see them again though. The disappointment may only be applied in my mind after the fact because the next band, We Are Scientists, blew me away. I didn’t get around to looking up songs on their site before the show, but sure enough they are there. The tracks cannot compare to the intensity of their live set. They were throwing guitars around, jumping on drums, all the while making kick-ass music. I bought their newest EP. The talent in their band is just very apparent.

Bishop Allen was actually really good live too. It was a fun show to watch. I wish I still had my MiniDisc recorder, it’d be fun to tape shows like this.

maybe there will come a day when those that you keep blind will suddenly realize

Thanks to Jessica for making me immortal.

It drives me crazy that I don’t have a CD player in my car that displays CD-TEXT. I have a need to know the names of songs that I’m hearing and all I have is the copy of the CD playing, no case, no liner notes, nothing. It is so not worth it to spend money to upgrade the player in my car because I will not have this car for too long I don’t think.

there’s a lot I don’t understand