It's that time again, for pretty projectives, the occasional evocative description of interpersonal turmoil, and far too many cosmological references.

We Feel Fine?

• We Feel Fine is a fascinating polyamorous relationship between programming, psychology, and art. A bot searches public blogs for the phrases "I feel" or "I am feeling", and harvests the complete sentence surrounding said phrase, e.g., "I feel sheepish for willingly allowing him to use me to replenish his narcissistic reserves," or "I am feeling excited to watch my dissertation co-chair on Oprah today" or "I feel guilty for using him to replenish my narcissistic reserves." Available identifying information about the writer is also harvested, and linked with the feeling statement when it is published, database-style. What results is an ability to search for feelings by age, date, geographic location, gender, even weather. The authors have created six "Movements" from which to experience the messiness, some messier than others (if you are going for messy, try "Madness". Less messy? Try "Metrics").


• Emotion dysregulation or vocational saturation? Sometimes I am so consumed by emotion (mine and others) that I would like to subtract it from my experience, if only for a couple of hours (much longer than that and I'd feel frightened, though then I'd be feeling, which would take care of it, no?). I don't want to feel numb, per se, as numbness feels like, well, a not-nice feeing. Being in a state of "flow" (which is not really considered an emotion, rather a state of operations - pardon the imprecise language here) seems like a good alternative (though sustaining it seems not only impossible, but perhaps also ill-advised).


• One coping method I've used for those annoying periods of emotional saturation is to read about winners of The Fields Medal (sometimes referred to as the Nobel Prize for mathematics). Though I try to limit my focus to their work, I nonetheless usually end up wondering about their inter- and intrapersonal lives, which inevitably elicits a stirring of The Feelings. So, partially to my chagrin, it's only partially effective.


• Emotional State 3A: It has recently been brought to our attention that some of you are stuck in emotional state 3A, Consumed by Fear. Though we have made a number of announcements recently about the need for an emotional-state change, and had hoped that this would be a relatively smooth and uniform process, we understand that 3A is a particularly robust state and that many of you may need further guidance on how to proceed...

Escalation of osculation. Time and oranges.

• Apparently it's not a given that kissing is important in courtship & mating, though (at least in the particular studies reported here) not as much for men. The consistently delightful VS Ramachandran suggests that kissing stimulates mirror neurons that, ostensibly, "promote empathy and reduce inhibitions". Obviously (to me, unfortunately not always to those I have smooched), empathy and reduced inhibitions is important for certain types of good, ahem, interpersonal relating. Why some people don't like kissing, or are just plain icky at it, seems like a societal issue, or at least one to which one should apply a good deal of introspection (and more practice with a vocal collaborator). Such folk are not going to last long in my dating pool (though, unfortunately, even the rare seemingly divinely endowed kissers have not yet found a way to stay afloat). Though it does make me wonder about the kissing plebian's state of mind in regard to attachment. It does not seem unreasonable to assert that someone with a dismissive state of mind would not want to get all mooshy and gooey (and empathic and uninhibited) with the kissing and would prefer to go straight to copulating. And then drive off onto the lonely highway. Likewise, someone with a preoccupied state of mind might want to kiss and kiss and kiss until repetitive lip injury occurs. Perhaps there's a study there!


• On an entirely unrelated note (though good kissing and pondering this topic are not so dissimilar, at least on some level), here's a delightful, interactive article on time space, travel, using oranges and other household items as educational props. Perhaps good date night material, before the smooching. Or a Family Home Evening activity!

Econometrics of sex & 'happiness'

...the economists compared the levels of happiness produced by a vigorous sex life with other activities whose economic values had been calculated in prior research, allowing them to impute, in dollars, how much happiness sex was worth. They also estimated that increasing the frequency of sexual intercourse from once a month to at least once a week provided as much happiness as putting $50,000 in the bank.

New York Times Week in Review: Sex May Be Happiness, But Wealth Isn't Sexiness

The Insiders

Cormac McCarthy Writes a Letter to The Editor of the Santa Fe New Mexican, by John Kennan

thanks monstromo for the alert!

overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out

• Arthur C. Clarke wrote, in addition to many books, stories & such, 2001: A Space Odyssey (along w/ Kubrick). Apparently very unhappy with how it all turned out, poor Art. I myself have not yet seen it; holding out until I can see it on the big screen.


• Charlton Heston. Had he not starred in one of the best films of all time I might not have such a tender spot for the ol' curmudgeon (Michael Moore's melodramatic exploitation of the early-Alzheimer's era Chuck likely contributed to the smooshiness).


• Albert Hoffman. What my teenage years would have been like without the work of this man, I can't say. Died a centenarian. Believed that natural scientists could not avoid becoming mystics. Worked in cycle after cycle with ergot fungus, one compound resulting in methergine, an effective treatment for puerperal hemorrhage. The 25th compound was lysergic acid diethylamide. [Interestingly, during my own puerperal strife I had a healthy injection of methergine that resulted in reminiscent physical sensations, sans psychedelia. Now *that* was trippy.]


• David Foster Wallace. No, I have not read Infinite Jest, and I'm not sure I'll ever read it in its entirety. But I appreciate that he did nearly everything, including writing, including tennis, and hanging himself (though this is the work I would have preferred he leave off in favor of writing another article for Gourmet about lobster season). Though I will never, ever appreciate the endless "brightest stars are always horribly tormented" eulogistic ranting all over the internet.


• Martha. I miss her.

barf on xmas eve

• Discussing forming a sibling book club; Brother suggests Vonnegut. I say 'Vonnegut makes me barf', and continue with the ways in which Vonnegut makes me barf, until Brother misunderstands and thinks my discourse includes the phrase 'insolent barf'. Someone else contributes 'insouciant barf'. Ultimately decide on a Cormac McCarthy novel. More on that, later.


• After the discussion including insouciant barf, the topic turns to food, and Father invokes The Beets and The Peas. Reminiscent of last year's culinary challenge of creating a dish using mushrooms and grapefruit, Brother presents another culinary challenge using the aforementioned barforifics. More on that, later.


• I suggest to Manfriend we make a pleasure trip to Costco: Interesting exercise in patience, people watching, and manipulating the emotional states of shoppers by making unexpected eye contact with strategic facial expressions ensuing. Plus there's all the stuff to look at. Purchase a large quantity of toilet paper. Manfriend is more animated with the shopping cart than expected, but no one is insulted. The scrapbook supply aisle reeks of a recent barfing. All in all a pleasant excursion.


• Withered Leg Reunion. Decide that some songs could be comprised of the title sung over and over and over, with generous refrains of "Oh Lord!" To make this topical, we should definitely do a number about barfing. And The Lord.