Turned it off and went back to sleep. Had some weird dreams thereafter. Started a load of laundry around noon. Got some McDonald's, came back to campus. The crowdedness differential between weekdays and weekends in the lounge is quite impressive compared to a few years ago. Once upon a time there used to be random people here during the weekend still, gaming or doing homework or whatever, and now it's ultra-crowded when classes are going on, but totally dead today.
I spotted a strange discrepancy inter one paper and another which contain ostensibly the same definition of the same thing and are by the same authors. I should ask Frank about that, since he's one of them. I think I may actually have to pay attention to what happens with the intersection of substitutions when irrelevance is around. What's the right theorem to prove about it, after all? Arg. Need to read this paper, also.
...now nimble fingers that dance on numbers
will eat your children and steal your thunder
while heavy torsos that heave and hurl
will crunch like nuts in the mouths of squirrels...
Finished off Ombro sur interna pejzaĝo finally. My reading habits vary pretty wildly between one extreme of just reading and trying to think about the sound of the words and general direction of the prose and the other, of making sure I look up every damn word I don't understand. So... I didn't really catch everything, but what I did was fairly enjoyable. The structure of the books itself makes it kind of hard to follow, since she seems reluctant to mention the actual names of her tiamaj amatoj, instead just saying "he" a lot. Except for Jan, I guess. But... yeah. Sometimes the way things are described is rather abrupt. I had to reread paragraphs a couple of times to realize that, yes, on one page there are two friends chatting over dinner, and on the next they are in bed.
But the language is quite pretty in places. I couldn't help but smile when I rediscovered the paragraph that starts Antaŭ relvoja barilo aŭtoj haltigitaj: vico de ruĝaj lumoj kiel koliero etendita en skatolo el nokto... ("In front of the gate in front of the railroad tracks, stopped cars: a row of red lights in the night like a necklace in a box...") that I had seen a while ago in Don Harlow's review of the book and panicked at the time at the difficulty of the vocabulary. Now... not so bad. I had to look up koliero, but I vaguely remembered it being synonymous with kolĉeno, so it was just a matter of confirmation.