Archive for March, 2005

This beautiful quote is from the introduction to Schopenhauer’s “The World as Will and Representation:”

I am afraid, however, that even so I shall not be let off. The reader who has gotten as far as the prefaceand is put off by that, has paid money for the book, and wants to know how he is to be compensated. My last refuge now is to remind him that he knows of various ways of using a book without precisely reading it. It can, like many other, fill a gap in his library, where, neatly bound, it is sure to look well. Or he can lay it on the dressing table or tea table of his learned lady friend. Or finally he can review it; this is assuredly the best course of all, and the one I specially advise.

Fortunately I have only a few papers this term, in addition to the usual round of mid-terms and finals (read: madly fill as many blue books as one can in the alloted time)
these are not what is creating in me a sense of panic; no, what I am panicky about is my calculation that I will need to read 1000 (one thousand) pages per week to keep up. None of the reading is as hard as last semester (Kant and Heidegger), but there is a lot more of it. Yikes!
I guess it is time to take up again that habit I broke: reading while walking. Maybe I should also learn to read while riding my bike….

While playing around on the PowerBook, I discovered (via Sherlock) that there are Twenty-One (!) Starbucks locations within two (2!) miles of my house. Is this really necessary? The closest location A whole .04 miles away, and, yes, I can see it from my apartment.

Its Spring Break!

Adam McInturf and I went backpacking in the Trinity-Alps, in Northern California (or, as some would have it, southern Cascadia). Perhaps it would be better if I said “we attempted to go backpacking.”
We drove down on Monday, got our wilderness permit and hit the trail. In the rain. By the time we made camp for the night we were both thoroughly wet. But our gear was mostly dry and so in not-yet damp spirits we got in the tent. After all, the pictures of the lakes to which we were heading looked spectacular. About the time we decided that it would be good to break out the stove and fix dinner and tea, I noticed that the ground was starting to look white. It snowed constantly through the night that first night, and we did not manage to get any drier.
Morning on the second day we decided to head for the nearest town, Weaverville, where we hoped to consult the Rangers to see where else (with a lower elevation) we might explore within the Trinity-Alps wilderness, and also to find a laundry-mat to dry out our gear. The laundry-mat idea turned out to be a stroke of brilliance, we were dry in no time; the Ranger, on the other hand, was less than encouraging. So we headed north toward Lake Shasta, looking for drier climes, swinging by Redding on the way so as to visit the nearest IN-N-OUT for dinner.
After dinner, which was excellent as one might expect, we noticed two things: first, we were running from a mess of black clouds; and, second, we were losing. Also, we were running low on daylight. So we quickly found the first place to camp that didn’t cost us any money: Down by the railroad tracks, somewhere off the highway near lake Shasta. We both felt like characters from a John Steinbeck novel. It rained on us through the second night also, letting up only as if to tease us.
Morning Three: not as wet as before, but our spirits were dampened considerably, so we headed to Ashland to explore. We set up in Lithia park: The stage of the amphitheater was the driest spot we could find that we could set up the tent to let it air out while we ate lunch. Picture this, two guys a bunch of gear and a tent, set up on the stage of an otherwise empty amphitheater, cooking. Needless to say we attracted the attention of the local law enforcement.
The Ashland police officer proved to be quite understanding once we assured him that we were not settling down for the night there on stage, even going so far as suggesting some camping spots for the night. We chose to not take him up on the offer; we, seeing the persisting black rain clouds, decided that we had enough with getting wet and drove home.
But not before exploring Ashland, and not before I found a couple of books at Ashland’s many fine used-book emporiums. Alas, our backpacking trip did not have much in the way of backpacking. But it was an adventure; and any adventure where one both both lives and does not get arrested is a success in my book. Plus, just think of all the great stories I can not ramble on about.
Oh, by the way, I wrote this post from my reading chair, typing on my new 15” PowerBook, which I bought the day after we got back - and which I think is pretty neat.

The amazing thing about Paul isn’t that he said and did all these wonderful things; it’s that he did it all without coffee.

– N. T. Wright, in a lecture on Romans at Regent College in Vancouver, B.C.

Two weeks left this term. Two weeks, four papers to write and seven books to read. If you are wondered if I had wandered into oblivion, I am still here. I’m feeling kinda busy, though. I’ll write more when I come up again for air.