Err, no, no, nothing to do with the thesis, in fact. I mean, not immediately. Nor in the forseeable future. Or even the next 9 days before the thing's due. Eventually, of course, I have a vague notion that I should be able to combine my skills in patristics with Japanese language skills, but...

Still, it's better than cannibals. Not nearly as amusing as what I want to call Mr. Eliot's cannibal isle, but which is apparently a crocodile isle. (Yes, I went and looked it up.) The cannibalism problem would be more interesting if the author I've ended up focusing on actually dealt with it. Whoops... The hazards of outlining 2 months in advance, I guess. Or of procrastinating, for those with a somewhat longer view of things. It's midnight now, and instead of dozing pleasantly, I'm scheming ways to make tea without waking up my better half...

Somewhere between this sublime and the trivia, I'm trying to write deep thoughts about life and death, and make a really mean spaghetti sauce, to boot. I figure if I can just figure it all out, I can make it all clear, for somebody, and me. Is knowing enough? No. Is it necessary? Absolutely. It's my job, and it's not just a job, it's an adventure, baby.

This journal is a log in debug mode, my sidechannel on my mental processes, your chance to watch inside the boiling pot. If you don't wanna know what's on the back burner, you're in the wrong place, my friend / you'd better leave... I'll be talking about me, and about Life, the Universe, and Everything, about "you and me and everybody in between", cabbages and kings. I'll be doing faux-literary crap like that a lot. I like that. My head is jammed with books, and it's spilling onto the screen!!

Welcome, friend.