Sobriquet 51.23

Well, I did not read any philosophy last night. Instead, I yawned a bunch and played bass for an hour or so, trying my best to emulate Paul Simonon. I won't say I succeeded but, with London Calling playing on my iPod, I was able to keep pace with a few songs. What was really nice about plucking away at my Fender, though, was the fact that I was able to take a break from the the logocentric ratiocination of my dissertation work and think aurally, exercising parts of my mind that would otherwise languish unused. By the time I did get ready for bed, I found myself mentally refreshed in ways I hadn't thought possible. 'Twas nice.

Though I'd hoped to read some more philosophy today, I chose instead to work on culling key passages from the entire corpus of Coetzee's fiction, revisiting pieces like "The Vietnam Project" that I'd not read in nearly a year. It was a productive effort, too. Although I will probably spend some time tomorrow reading some philosophy, I am feeling pretty prepared for the next little bit of the chapter, especially after my work this evening. Of course, playing "The Guns of Brixton" last night got me in a pretty good mood today.

For tomorrow: Read some philosophy.