Rene Descartes Was a Drunken Fart

The boredom is sucking away my will to live. Or rather blog.

This was pointed out by a Robert, whose blog I subscribe to. Reading and writing go hand in hand for me. Or rather pen in hand, or keyboard in hand. Nevermind.

Being stuck in my black and white microcosm world (read: teensy tiny apartment) is killing me. Not literally but mentally and spiritually.You’re looking at a picture of my current existance. The glowing object on the bed is a laptop. Kinda Pulp Fiction ‘glowing suitcase-esque’. Maybe I’ll paint the glow in a golden hue for maxium effect. It’s not as if I don’t have the time *sigh*.

Watching hours of television may be a direct cause of my lack of writing the last few days.

Sure, I’ve been watching DVDs from Netflix (worth every penny whether you’re under house arrest or have had major abdominal surgery) but this still implies a passive existence.
At least reading stimulates the brain. My brain anyway. A book may be so poorly written that I throw it with a satisfying whack against a wall. Conversely a tome may exalt me or give the impetus to write a piece dealing with the same subject. Taking a tertiary point from a great writer’s pages and running with it is a favorite past time. It’s the little and seemingly insignificant ideas that permeate my being and send it off on thoughts and ideas of it’s own.
Either way it’s exercise, whether of the brain or throwing arm. BTW even when I’m heaving a book against the wall I throw like a girl.

On Monday the pain from the surgery became worse and I developed another frightening symptom as well. This scared me. In fact it scared me so much that I actually DID stay in bed and follow the doc’s instructions for 3 days.
Hence the seepage of cognizant thought from my frontal lobe and the apparent successful coup undertaken by the limbic portion of my brain.
Ya Mon! Everybody Limbic!

So it’s Day Four since the above mentioned day and a half of Scary Effects That I Probably Brought On Myself.
Felt much better by last night, the pain is back to manageable and nothing else is amiss.
So today’s To-Do list includes arming myself with fresh reading material.

My favorite books are non-fiction, especially biographies of obscure historical figures and those dealing with science and physics. Granted the latter have to written on a level of my understanding, but there are more and more fabulous books every year. No longer shackled to unreadable dissertations on quantum theory or Scientific American articles my interest in these subjects has grown.

Here are a few recommendations for all of you shut-ins.

There’s a fucking brilliant blog I subscribe to called Bad Science. The writer has a scientific background (Oxford educated M.D.) and a sense of skepticism and irony that makes me laugh out loud.

I’ve plowed through 4 great books on things physic since my surgery and for your own edification here they are:
1. Descartes’ Error: Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain
–wonderful book by Antonio Damasio. The author kicks Descartes’ ass in regards to the theory that the logical mind is separate from the emotional. This is great for anyone silly enough to have obtained a degree in Philosophy (or Music) or cunning enough to have a degree in the sciences.

2. Einstein’s Universe: The Layperson’s Guide
–by Nigel Calder. Simple to understand and a pretty short read. This is great for reiterating the foundations of physics AND the amazing work of Albert “The Chick Magnet” Einstein. Found this one used for under a dollar. Check the local thrift stores for this. I’d have paid full price for it.

3. First You Build a Cloud: And Other Reflections on Physics as a Way of Life
– The author of this book, K.C. Cole, writes in a style that is as accessible as that of Brian Greene. Thank god. Great bios in here of famous physicists. Straightforward examples of every day occurrences and situations which she correlates with specific theories and disciplines. Tres Cool.

4. The Universe in a Nutshell
—by Stephen Hawking. What can I say? Stephen Hawking helped rekindle my enjoyment of science, which had lain dormant since microbiology in my junior year of college. The graphics are great. Not only are you able to ‘hang with Hawking but you’re learning and contemplating some of the newer theories in science. Did I mention how I loved the illustrations? You know, I only read Playboy for the articles too. The pictures are just a bonus. Uh yeah.

Well, after devouring these books my brain was full and for some idiotic reason told me that I’d been cured (praiiiiiiise Jesus!). At that juncture I began doing everything which was contraindicated for a neurotic woman recovering from a serious operation. You know, going to the market (hey at least I didn’t drive!) and walking too far amongst the aisles, lifting more than 5 pounds (ooops) and bending over, albeit very Very slowly and not all of the way, to pick up everything my daughter drops in her daily oblivion to housework. I’m thinking that her algebra book alone probably weighs 7 pounds. Hindsight.

Strangely enough my body rebelled and the last four days were thereby made a living coma of passive Television/DVD hell.
I got better.

To paraphrase Descartes:
(okay can’t help myself –singing “Rene Descartes was a drunken fart who was rarely ever stable, Eidecker Eidecker was a boozy beggar who could drink you under the table…” Oh nevermind. Go find the Philosopher’s Song by Monty Python and then you can sing along with me next time)

I write. Therefore I am.
and I’m always write

~Miss R

Added bonus: A personal look at the desk of Miss R! Fuckall I AM bored. My desktop PC is in color becasue this is where life (the writing only. the piano is in the living room) emanates from. The laptop on my bed above is simply for enjoyment and emails. Thought that screwing with the Histograms on that pic was a perfect touch. Histogram? Hysterectomy? Coincidence? Probably