Big men often tremble as they step aside,
I thought I was big once, but she changed my mind.

-- They Might Be Giants, "She's Actual Size"

I've been through the fire of introducing my Conference paper to other people, and having it questioned mildly. I did choke up a little bit, and turned bright red, but that's my usual reaction to being uncofindiently on the spot. They did point out a major flaw in my thesis: I don't have a damn clue what I mean about gender. So, this weekend is going to be a marathon reading of Begotten Not Made and Flesh and Stone. I really need to get my own copy of those books, and perhaps someday I will, but for that money is required. Maybe one at a time -- I have a list, but it gets expensive quickly, even the paperbacks (when bloody acedemic publishers bloody feel like publishing them, the bastards).

Anyway, the big focus of this weekend will be writing my first philosophy paper for Rhetora Spellman. I'm hoping to focus on Plato's schpiel in the Phaedrus about the soul being like a chariot. It shouldn't be too much of a problem.

Man, Dave wants a paper in two weeks, and there's a quiz in Latin on Monday. There for a while I was afraid that I wasn't going to be able to swing this much intensive stuff, but it looks like I might.

"The point is frozen, the beast is dead."

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