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One of the greatest book titles of all time is David Overybye’s Lonely Hearts of the Cosmos. But my link above isn’t about his 1991 book, subtitled “The Scientific Quest for the Secret of the Universe.” Yet,
my
rubric is apt for my comment at Overbye’s article today at the NYTimes: a profile of planetary scientist Sarah Johnson.
July 18
I’m immersed in an ambitious prospection that has no readily access-ible name. Call it prospecting a comprehensive conceptuality of com-parative literary studies as interdomainal modeling.
You see: “nonsense.”
But I’m enjoying myself immensely—happy immensity of immersion
I am…
A practical dimension of my work gravitates toward notions of culti-vating humanity, in both the value-conceptual sense (entailing ethical ideals) and the demographic sense of improving general quality of life.
So, when an article came along celebrating opportunities for college-age students outside of campus, I jumped into comment, rather stri-dently but exuberantly.
Then, I return to my offline excursions.
Meanwhile, I’m nearly overwhelmed by reports of tragedy—be it stunning confessions about surviving life in Iraq (e.g., 1:16:45 through 1:23:30) or stunningly sudden losses of life in the current pandemic.
Real tragedy is counterpointed daily by pathetic theatrics at the White House, which I don’t want to waste time discussing.
But I comment on articles sometimes (see also my 2 replies to Marla, bottom of the page). Then I go back to my immersions.
Last night, I impulsively did a long posting on disgusting Trump,
“the emperor’s clothes” (above). But I want to avoid such episodes.
next check-in: August 8 |
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