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Friday 10/13/00

I must be the Hulk. Because I just laid a green steamin' pile.

I didn't get out of bed today until almost eleven a.m. Fortunately I was able to walk across the room today, which was an improvement over yesterday when I did nothing but sleep and vomit. The 875mg Augmentin pills are fuckin' killer. So I got up and went to Subway and then Cole and I went to Metaphysics where Smedley rudely dismissed Beardo's non-materialist theory of mind, embarassing me and giving me no recourse but to ask Cole in a whisper, "Do we bring out the big guns?" Hestevold was seen to squirm in the wake of Smedley's rude dismissal of Beardo's theory. I didn't listen to Hestevold through much of class, preferring to read Roderick Chisholm's essay on the Mind-Body problem and draw on my notebook. After class, I hung around and talked with Beardo briefly about the existence of romantic love, and its non-existence before the twelfth or thirteenth century. I cited book six of the Iliad as an example of romantic love before the twelfth or thirteenth century, but Beardo didn't take it as such and I didn't get an opportunity to explain my position. Hestevold, who had been obliged to stick around for some of this discussion between myself and Beardo, was seen to squirm with desire to get away. He slunk toward the door and then left. Later I tracked Hestevold down and exacted from him Handout 9, which I had been missing.

By the way, in class today, Hestevold revealed that David Chalmers would be speaking to the Blount Undergraduate Initiative in the Spring. Those brash, brassbound, confident, forward, gay, overconfident, overweening, presuming, pushful, pushing, pushy, self-asserting, self-assertive, uppish, uppity and sniveling upstarts! I wager a testicle none of them have even heard of him, and I wager the full bit and giblets that not one of them spent the December of his freshman year reading Chalmers' The Hard Problem. The Goddess of Justice has departed from the Earth.

After class I went to the library to do some bookworming. Checking out a girl who turned out to be much older than I had first assumed, I found myself obliged to stand in front of the Churchill stuff and eventually read Churchill stuff. Later I went to the philosophy section and read Wilhelm Wundt. Very clear. After that I realized that I didn't have my ACTion card, so I was unable to check out the books I wanted. So fuck. Then I went back home, got my ACTion card, and eventually Cole and I went to run errands, which means we drove Fergward and we ended back up at the library where we checked out more Stove stuff and amused ourselves with Andrea Nye's Words of Power.

Nothing of note in the Crimson White today. Regrettable.

Returning from the library, I played about half of Ghosts 'n' Goblins. Then we went to Rite-Aid and Dairy Queen. It was hip.

The F on the piano is still broken. Fuck.

I have yet to begin writing my Ben Jonson paper. But it doens't matter. It is a stupid and discreditable business.

I predict that Phil Chin will drunkenly play something on the piano tonight.

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