Double Flee A

I wish all the cops drove really slow cars so they could never catch you. That would be cool.

Day two of the exam was grueling. Nine and a half hours of looking at something about an inch across. Tomorrow it's the same thing, then Thursday it's a half day. That ought to be plenty of time to get done. We won't get our results back for a few months, which could be fun, only I'm not Alfred Hitchcock. One theory for why he loved suspense so much was that as a child he would always be allowed to choose to receive his spanking "now" or last thing before bed. He always chose to wait. It could be said, fairly, that he already liked suspense leading up to that, so using his juvenile predilection as a "cause" is an excellent demonstration of what makes "post hoc ergo propter hoc" fallacious, but then you might as well say that suspense itself is a certain combination of other things like fear and the wild hope of a last-minute reprieve. You also can't breach the subject without saying that the concept of "suspense" alters any suspenseful sitation sheerly by being recognized. Maybe the world was better before people knew what to call everything. Not that you would have had anything to compare it to, naturally, but there you are. Disambiguation creates a series of unveilings; it's hard to imagine the inside of my own mind at fifteen years old, because what was everything to me then?

One more day of watches may be all I can take for a while.

So now I'm going to play wheel of fortune on the playstation and go to bed. Don't die, everybody!

posted by dale @ 8:41 PM