aw hex naw

The theme that Adam points out (from this book) - the inherent significance of people outside yourself - is something that occurs to me from time to time. Sometimes, when I'm out in the world - i.e., around other people - and thinking tangentially, my mind moving from thought to memory to unconnected thought, I start to consider the fact that everyone around me has a mind that is just as big, just as full, and doing the same thing as mine. (I often do this while driving, for whatever reason: I get to thinking, then I realise that there are two or three other people in the car who are also thinking, then I realise that there are hundreds/thousands of other cars full of even more other people, then I realise that there are other cities full of cars and people, and other countries full of people, etc.) To then imagine that there are 6,446,131,400 (est.) other people in the world whose minds have the same capacity, but work differently - there are all kinds of different thoughts, memories, etc.; they must think in different languages, and with different cultural referents, what would they make of mine? - is enough to make your head explode, like that one time (THIS LINKS TO AN ANIMATION OF AN EXPLODING HEAD! DO NOT CLICK IT IF YOU'RE GOING TO FREAK OUT AND BE UPSET WITH ME AFTERWARDS! AND IF YOU DO CLICK IT AND FREAK OUT, DON'T BLAME ME! BLAME DAVID CRONENBERG!) in Scanners. I think other people's minds are one of those things that are meant to be too vast to comprehend. Shit, we can't even understand our own minds; what would we do with someone else's?

And I am trying to make my post titles less referential to outside influences and more self-referential.

Currently, my favourite song is 'Hey Joe' done by Medeski, Martin and Wood (especially acoustic-ally.)

And Murther and Walking Spirits was intended to be part of a trilogy - the 'Toronto trilogy' - but Davies died before he could write the third. We're left with it and The Cunning Man, which two do relate in an offhand, insignificant way. I'm sure Davies would have further developed the connections in the third book.

raaaaage dump

Anagrams For 'Mic Earnshaw'

Ah, wine. Scram!

Can wash mire.

He naw racism.

Her was manic.

Hi! Warn maces.

I ha' sewn Marc.

New hair scam.

Warmish acne.

Wan as chimer.

We his narc, Ma.

We harm Incas.

And it's true, I naw racism. And my hair scam is off and running, snowballing its wealthy way into my bank account. (A terrible sentence, though I must admit it's not without a certain charm, a certain sort of train-wreck fascination.) And I and mine do harm Incas - smug bastards with their grand stone temples and their lineage to the sun through the great Manco Capac and their damn mortarless construction process - though I admit we do it with sensitivity, and not as often as we might like.

Is this the beginning of a series of potentially humourous lists? Well, yes and no.*

Also, the Toronto Raptors have won another game on the road. 5-20, baby!

Also, the Jacksonville Jaguars control their own destiny this Saturday!** It's win-and-in against Houston, the team who beat them last year to deny them a playoff berth (hee-hee, berth) but who are 2-12 this year! Score!

*You see, the thing about 'yes and no' is that it's not an answer at all. Seriously, the answer is probably yes, but they'll be sporadically published and most likely not funny.
**Sports commentator babble is fun to say, or type, or whatever you call this thing which I'm currently doing.