Naturally, I was saddened to hear of the passing of
Ernest Borgnine, but having finally gotten around to seeing
The Descendants just this past week, I have decided that it was time for this to happen because
Robert Forster has become the new Ernest Borgnine.
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Recently, as I've been putting together nodes and such, I've had many a 'typing moment' -- that is the sort of moment you have right in the middle of typing something when all of a sudden it comes upon you that
typing is weird; that the stringing together of these symbols to form words with definitions and pronunciations which are being reeled off in your head as you type is weird and unnatural and disjointed and detached from reality. Does anybody else get that feeling?
The act itself, fingers dancing, flying even, across a field of plastic
bumps and turning
thoughts into
words on a
screen. I feel disconnected from the act, so second nature as it has become, such that it hardly seems like my brain is controlling the action of my hands. As if I am sitting and looking at the screen and my thoughts are appearing on it, while my hands are off doing their own thing, having fun playing some game outside of my attention. And if I look at my fingers while I'm doing this, it seems crazy that they are jumping from key to key to key to key to key. My primitive ancestors throw spears at wild
aurochs and to communicate this feat painted symbolic images of it on cave walls. More recent ancestors may have plucked a feather from a bird and dipped it in ink to inscribe a thought. But here we are, really the first generation to communicate our thoughts primarily by typing them on the
QWERTY keyboard. Sometimes I wonder if I'll suddenly forget how to type, and if so doing would be like forgetting how to speak.
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In auditing news:
borgo -- Still done.
Jack --
on page 3 of 20.
Blessings!!