Snapshot

Here I am, sitting at the dining room table of a one bedroom apartment. My mother is sleeping on the couch about 7 ft. to the left of me, while my dog slumbers away underneath my chair.

The only sound: the refrigerator hum.
The only light source: a single ceiling lamp hanging above my head.
Temperature: 75 degrees
Books in my backpack: Franny and Zooey, The Blind Watchmaker
Signs of life: mom, dog
Deceptive signs of life: two potted plants, which upon closer inspection reveal themselves to be fake.

Random thoughts that have gone through my head in the past ten minutes: Proprioception, self-defense mechanisms, to-do lists, Led Zeppelin, Law and Order, blogging, globalization.

Evolutionary Biology

After partaking in a 3 hour nap this evening, I went downstairs work on some biology homework (some worksheets on stem cell research, but that is irrelevant). Of course, expecting to accomplish any work was blind hope, and I found myself participating in a semi-intense debate on macroevolution.

Now, I normally hate arguing. Normally, it's because I have no idea what I'm talking about, and I know how much it bothers me when people form opinions based on nonsense. As a general rule, I avoid controversial topics altogether and content myself with reading mildly provocative blog entries on the internet.

But with 5+ books on evolutionary biology under my belt, I couldn't help but give my 2 cents.

I won't go into the details of the debate here, mainly because I don't want this becoming some sort of free-for-all debate fist fight (granted, I probably don't even have enough readers for a proper debate, but that is beside the point).

All I'll say is that I'm not a creationist. My run with my biology course at school as well as my Dawkins and Wilson kick has convinced me macroevolution is the way to go.

As I said, I normally like to steer clear of all things controversial. But this is one of the few topics that I consider important, and one of the very few topics of which I can actually make a cogent argument. So if anyone wants to discuss, feel free to do so.

The World

Changes every day.

Irrevocably.

Permanently.

For better or for worse.

Weekends

I live from weekend to weekend. The work days in between all merge into a mess of classes, busy work, and the daily grind. I can't say what I did last week, but I can say with certainty what I did last weekend (in this case, really nothing at all. I spent hours watching Weeds and loafing around in my apartment).

I look forward to sleeping in, despite my incapability of sleeping later than 9 am. I look forward to the luxury of sitting in my room, not getting anything done, and catching up on my lost episodes of whatever TV show I happen to feel like watching that week.

Some weekends ago, I lazily wandered the streets of Hartsville, SC with neither aim nor destination. I discovered a genealogical research library as well as some side boutiques.

I ended up reading On Human Nature by E.O. Wilson in Centennial Park (if that small patch of plants can be considered a park).

All in all, a good day.

And here I am, looking forward to tomorrow, living from weekend to weekend.

E.O. Wilson

is the man.

What do you wait for?

Ever get that anticipatory tight feeling in your chest?

Of course you do.


My life is a constant waitlist.
Waiting for tomorrow.
Waiting for next week.
Waiting for a new year.

What do you wait for?

I've tried to obliterate that list time after time. The problem arises from the deep rooted fact that I've learned to define and construct my entire image and life after waitlists-- an arbitrary column of boxes to check.

Checkcheckcheck.


Psychologist Daniel Kahneman says that we have two selves: memory and experiential.

We literally live in the experiential. Statistically, our experiential self lasts for three seconds at a time.
So the experiential self that literally feels your existence at this moment. . .

Is gone now.

And another one . . .

And another . . .
And another . . .

Has taken its place.


And yet another.

Our brains are only capable of living in the experiential mode, but paradoxically, we choose to spend much of that mode leafing through our memories.

The memory self that gives us coherence and continuity.


Think back the last ten years of your life.
Not every memory or event.
Just feel the last ten years of your life.

How long did that take you?

The continuity of those last ten years lumped and condensed into a one second memory.

A concentrated, raw, one-second memory.
The memory that lets you feel your self existence in the last ten years.

And here I am living, three seconds at a time.

Waitingfortomorrow.Waitingfornextweek.Waitingforanewyear.

Modes

Modes in which I've often found myself recently:

Oliver Sacks mode.
E.O Wilson mode.
Angry vigilante mode.
Don't give a damn mode.
Chill mode.
Camus mode.

Carpe

Vitam.

Birds

Running around on sand at 11 PM chasing birds with a friend = awesome.

I can count on one hand the times I've been to the beach.

Last weekend was one such visit.

There's just something about being on the edge of a land mass that makes you feel insignificant and empowered at the same time.

Words

"We search for words because sometimes that is all we can do."
-- Josh Carter

I like words. I particularly like the word "nociception." It's basically a fancy word for pain. Stemming from the Latin root "noceo," it literally translates as the "perception of harm."

Bam. Etymology like that blows my mind.

Another example: disease. Literally the state of being not at ease.

I also like how words feel in my mouth. A favorite of mine is "intrigue." A friend once told me that he likes how the word "thimble" sounds. I spent the next minute or two playing with the word, saying it slowly, drawing out the sounds. After a while, I was mildly addicted to saying it.

Just as sometimes songs get annoyingly stuck in my head, I also get words stuck in my head. For example, just a few nights ago my brain kept repeating the word "apocrine" over and over again while I was at tennis practice.


Apocrine. Apocrine. Apocrine. Thimble.

House M.D.

I'm not a huge TV show connoisseur, but I won't deny my near pathological obsession with Dr. House.

As usual, after attending my last class this past Tuesday, I went upstairs to my room, opened my laptop, and proceeded to catch up on my missed episodes of House. Perpetually one week behind, I finally got around to watching the episode titled "5 to 9."

Now, from the very beginning, I knew something was up with this particular episode. Firstly, nobody mysteriously passed out in the first three minutes. Secondly, the entire introduction was concentrated on Cuddy and her new boy toy. At this point, I was extremely irked. For goodness sakes! The show is called House, not Cuddy.

Then, for the first time, House M.D. mentioned. . . Insurance companies.

Yes, insurance companies.

In fact, the entire episode was one large finger jab at those darned insurance companies.

In my personal experience, House M.D. never mentions money except for the following instances: 1. Cuddy becoming angry at House for wasting money on unnecessary testing 2. Cuddy becoming angry at House for breaking expensive equipment and 3. House making various bets with fellow co-workers.

Throughout the entire episode, Cuddy desperately tries to renew a contract with a heartless health insurance company, trying to get Princeton Plainboro the money it deserves. When she refuses to write a script for breast milk as cancer treatment for a clinic patient, he calls her bitch and pleads that his insurance company will only cover official prescriptions. She fights with a patient suing the hospital for his finger reattachment surgery because he cannot absorb the medical costs. She approaches an evil, douchebag health insurance company CEO during his luxury lunch to demand that he be less selfish and consider the patients instead of his shareholders for once. Dr. Chase who performed the finger reattachment surgery just expresses his wish to treat people, regardless of money.

As I said, one giant finger jab.

I'm not even going to try to pretend that I'm an expert on this whole healthcare crisis. The majority of my personal information stems from late night talking points and cursory scannings of the Washington Post and CNN. But, I know that when issues start pervading pop culture, the general public is more likely engage themselves. I admit I was mildly annoyed that my expected one hour break of mind-numbing programming turned into a in-your-face healthcare discussion. But, maybe that in itself is the problem. Maybe instead of wasting my time watching House be an attractive douchebag, I should take notice of the news and issues going around the world.