January 17th, 2004

beartato phd

(no subject)

Finally got around to seriously proofreading this paper I'm supposed to be working on. I keep telling myself that I ought to remember that I like this stuff, but it's not very effective. I really don't like this project much anymore. It's not just that it's hard, it's a mess. It's gross and disorganized, and it has little pointy bits sticking out at all angles, and I don't see any way of making it not. Anyway, I found a bunch of silly little errors, and was not totally unsuccessful at paging back in some large swaths of ideas contained in it. Still so hard to fight off the disgust and despair.

In the meantime I will keep dreaming of that blessed future day when purely formal, mechanized proof composition and checking is practical and convenient, and I will never have to feel this horrible, sinking lack of confidence in sprawling manual proofs again.

Also there will be flying cars, then.
beartato phd

(no subject)

Can't come up with more than disconnected thoughts right now.

Language is a compromise between the infinite messiness of the world and the finite, discrete nature of human cognition.

I've never felt translating literature from Japanese is automatic. The words are so far apart. The texture of the language is so different…it's some hazy realm that's bordered by the two languages.
(from http://www.spikemagazine.com/0103michaelemmerich.php)

I am afraid I am a chauvinist of mysticisms: content with my own, because I don't have to own up to them too often, and dismissive of others.