antiorario
Orme di Antiorario
Basic illiteracy of the day
Stuff for which I’d blame “the people,” but I know they’re just the victims of miseducation.
Down with footnotes!
I don’t particularly like footnotes, yet I keep using them. Maybe it’s time to stop.
Easy as bagels
In case anyone is wondering, yes, I boil them too. Full procedure inside.
Who’s the platypus now?
I’m reading Kant and the Platypus, and I realize I’ve never shared a conversation I had in 2010 in Louisville with Marcel Danesi, who was standing in line behind me at the hotel’s Starbucks, and was drawn to my Italian name on my name tag like a bear to honey.
Danesi: “So, did you study with Umberto?”
Me: “I took a class with him in my third year. However, I’m a structuralist.”
Danesi (with a mixture of resignation and mockery): “Oh, so is he.”
My false analogies
Things my Fivefingers have been called:
- fins
- mermaid feet
- duck feet, frog toes, or generally webbed toes
- Martian feet (whatever those are).
Of all these things, my Fivefingers are actually the opposite.
Things my Fivefingers are not the opposite of:
- regular human feet.
Thirty-something
At the end of 2011, within my first-degree family circle I’m the only one who’s in his thirties. My first cousins are all in their forties and fifties, and the next generation (the first-once-removed) ranges from zero (born today, even) to twenty-six.
I’m an island.
It never gets said enough
A few weeks (months? Months!) ago I wrote a philosophy post, over at Communikitchen, with my three tips for successful blogging. I didn’t think it was exhaustive by any means, only a good starting point.