The Comments

It's not over yet, chess boy!

I confess that the psychosis of this thread has amused and bothered me in equal measures. I liked the following comment in particular:

'IT asked for comments on his article and I simply provided mine. I hoped he would find them intersting or useful, but maybe not. If he doesn't appreciate my comments - fine - he is welcome to ignore them, disagree, or delete them as he sees fit. It's his blog.'

Oh yes. I confess that by Sunday I will have written, been involved in and/or presented: one cover-article, three reviews, one architectural jury, one long paper, three lectures and five seminars.

I confess that I am currently sleeping less than Thatcher, but drinking about as much wine as Debord. I confess I routinely feel quite sick.


I confess that I just finished my conference paper on Wesley and Nancy, and for the moment at least, I've convinced myself that it's not a complete embarrassment.


I confess Thatcher drank more wine than Debord slept.


...and that I need more comments...


I confess that this is the second year in a row I've gone out to the bar on Valentine's Day with the intention of picking up. I confess that I took this course of action because it's worked before, and that the calculation involved was the skeeviest, frattiest take-desperate-loneliness-and-add-alcohol meat marketology imaginable. I confess that instead of finding a one-night stand, I unexpectedly met, hung out and made further plans with an attractive woman I really enjoyed, respected and got along with. I confess that while this good fortune delights me, there's a small grotty corner of my soul that just wanted the one-night stand.


I confess that the best SNL line ever was, "LBJ was known to his Spanish whores as El B. J."


I have a vision of the Judgement of Paris, with the risk of similar portentious developments. Your Delphic response saved you, at the small cost of long echoes.

Do you really know how to read Nancy?
compare yourself with this:
http://www.teachingcomics.org/sy...llabi/ nancy.pdf


I confess it's still Thursday night. And not even late Thursday night.


We're shifting it back gradually. Within a month, Friday confessionals should be posted the previous Friday.


I confess that I can't seem to learn my lesson concerning mixing alcohol. Beer to gin to wine just doesn't work. I confess my body is leading a rebellion. I confess that the Revolutionary Keyboarders annoy the shit out of me when they assume that the rest of us do nothing politically, though I find the irony of the situation very tasty.


I confess that I am following the Anna Nicole Smith story.


I confess that I have a feelings for an unattractive woman. Its one of those, "her wonderful personality makes up for her ugly face" type things.


I confess that I have been bribing people to link to my blog.


I confess that at the last minute J. and I decided we didn't want to see genocide on Valentines Day (Last King of Scotland) and hadn't found parking in time to see Pan's Labyrinth, so we went with Drew Barrymore and Hugh Grant. A few funny scenes, especially some that weren't meant to be funny. The sad thing is, and this is why an otherwise outstanding movie didn't get any of the real biggies for Oscar Nominations, we left the movie with a few cheesey eighties type song lines going through our head whereas we could remember a single word or tune from Dreamgirls even immediately afterward.


"could not remember a single word or tune from Dreamgirls"


I confess that I have accepted such bribes.

I confess that I miss having a girlfriend.


I confess that I'm obviously not enough for Ben.


I confess that I just submitted a grant proposal 4 hours before the deadline. I confess this is progress for me.


I confess Rob beat my last grant application submission by about 3 hrs 35 minutes.


I still have ten days until my grant application deadline ... but I suspect one of my references is going to be pissed when he opens his email on Monday and asks for a letter w/in the week.


i confess that i thought IT was a woman. i also confess that i find backgammon far more to my liking than chess.


I would have to know a lot more about their personalities before I would be able to respond meaningfully to their question.

A dodge. Very good answer.

Had you simply chosen the pretty face, and next thing you know, you end up with the prettiest girl around, and her boyfriend & buddies all get mad at you, and it all ends up in a bloodbath.


I'm a backgammon man myself. I find that there are just too many options at any one time during a chess game and I become paralyzed by this, whereas with backgammon so much is left up to chance that I can blame my endless losing streak on that.


IT is a woman.


I confess that almost every time I get sick, I am in denial about the fact that I'm sick, and therefore take longer to recover.

I confess that we really need to sweep and mop in this apartment.


IT is a woman.

You seem so sure of this fact, 'Mr' Adam Kotsko, and yet have no proof whatsoever!

Nor have I, for that matter, apart from a vague intimation of biological horror and metaphysical shame at the thought of potential parasite-incubation capacity (Alien! Alien!). But I imagine all thinking beings share this disgust. Er, possibly.

The amusing thing about the comment I quoted above ('it's his blog'), well, you know, for me, was the deep unthought at work - exactly the sort of assumption a tournament-level chess-player might avoid, one might think. Unless they were actually totally dogmatic and annoying of course, ho ho ho.

I confess, in addition, that I have to give a paper tomorrow in front of many, many people. I confess that I will probably attempt to charm my way out of it by drawing a fish-human-nosed-black-hole creature that will explain how composites work in the fantastical make-up of dreams, just as I did for my Descartes lecture yesterday.

I further confess that today the stick-person I drew on the board to represent the subject of aesthetic judgement accidentally possessed a slightly sexual stick-appendage, which provoked some amusement in my students. I confess I tend to like to think they are laughing with me rather than....the other thing.


"IT" (the so-called "id") is a woman? Truth is a woman too, they say. They're taking over.


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