I spend a lot of time at the bookstore now that I'm off for (sob!) seven more days (sob again!). It's in a shopping complex right across the street, within walking distance. The only thing better would be a library within walking distance (libraries get me hot and bothered the same way Latin does).
Today I browsed through the philosophy section and came upon Kierkegaard's "Concept of Anxiety." I opened it up to the page where he talks about anxiety and nothing being the same (uh oh, I feel a need to footnote, and wonder if I'm paraphrasing correctly). I really dig Kierkegaard, and what those long, dark Danish winters did to him certainly was a boon for Western philosophy.
So much for new news.
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If I wanted children, I'd name my son Soren, complete with the line through the "o." I'd teach him not to string around female acquaintances, though.
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