The Philosopher's Axe, Or, I Want a Sandwich

Do you know this old philosophical quandry? You have an axe, and let's say you give it the nickname "Lucille" (just like BB King). After using it for a while, the handle breaks, so you replace it. Then the blade breaks, so you replace that, too. Now, is this still Lucille, or something else? I always thought philosophers had too much time on their hands when I heard this question.

This Moment: Standing at the deli counter today, the customer next me points and tells the clerk, in a bit of a bored voice, "I don't know - I want that kind of sandwich, but that one is cold." The clerk explains, "Yes, they're cold now, but we put them on the grill or heat them up in the microwave." The customer, clearly unhappy with the response, says condescendingly, "No - If you heat it up it won't be that kind of sandwich anymore."

Time Just Is - It Doesn't Move, Per Se

This Moment: For the last few days we have had serious thunderstorms, and in the middle of the afternoon rooms have gone from pitch black to sun drenched in a manner of minutes. This made me think about the films of Wong Kar Wai. With the help of his cinematographer, Christopher Doyle, he creates a moving wash of colors. At times the images are so sharp and focused that you have to squint. At other times the camera is so open to the richness of color in the scene that it can't scan correctly, and so it floats dreamily around. His movies have people in them, but I wasn't so interested in that right now.

Monsters Create Their Own Spaces

This moment: I'm reading the comic book Air and have been struck by the story's central conceit of symbolism as technology (and traveling through time-space via the act of interpretation). I have also been mulling over its use of blank space as a complex metaphor for the freedom and terror of creativity. That and I wanted to teach myself more stuff about how to work with iMovie...

The Lives of Crossing Guards

When I see them, I often wonder what school crossing guards did in their earlier working life and what kind of stories they could tell. For example, I think, "Is that one an author of some renown? Has that one traveled to places I'd love to go? Do they speak a language I'd love to speak?"

This moment: Today as I walked by two elderly crossing guards talking to each other I overheard one say, "I was there that night at Woody's when KY cut that boy's head."