Ignoring the ships in the bay (and they haven't gone away)

I can't drag myself to check out my email account today. I just don't want to look at the inbox. There's going to be a reply to my endless screed to the Bullpups about how I think tab should be run, and there's going to be a list of members of the Legion of Doom so that I can go forth and posterboy the tournament policies. And there's going to be something from Dr. Happychristian Dogood offering me a chance at high office in the Nigerian intelligence service. Not to mention someone expressing further disbelief that I won't be in Dallas in June to argue about T violations and purity of essence.

I'm taking the day off and working for a change. The day job, that is. Just this once. I'll think about the above tomorrow. After all, tomorrow. is. another. day.

On the you're-never-too-old-to-learn-new-bull-ogna front, I am learning that old Zen Ethics doesn't even have much truck with science! Sold me out there, I'll tell you. Oh, well. Beware of the seduction of words! he says. Not words as in the lure of writing, because if that were the case, I'd have to toss him out the carriage window. No, he's talking about the concept that words have hard-to-shake pre-existing meanings before we begin to consider them philosophically. "I think," as a concept, for instance. The words "I think" contain too many inherent assumptions for the philosopher. The concept of an I. The concept of thinking. The concept that I can think (which he warns you will conclude if you know the words "I think," hence beware the seduction of words). The concept that the agent precedes the thought. That there is indeed thought. Take your pick. I can't wait till he stops saying what we can't do and starts saying what we can do. But already one can see the intrinsic modernism of knowing that language can be a limitation of thought (although, as an aside, linguistics orthodoxy today probably doesn't conclude that we can't think what we can't say, but that's a different issue altogether, if you give a Pinker's damn).

And, I'm already starting to worry about Bump. Jeesh.