JACOB: And what are you reading?
SCOTT: The Conscious Mind, by David Chalmers.
JACOB: I don't understand what you find interesting about the philosophy of the mind. It has nothing to do with what a machine can perform.
JACOB: And why weren't you at my Superbowl party?
SCOTT: I hear it was a good game.
JACOB: It was.
SCOTT: I just don't understand what you find interesting about football. It has nothing to do with whether or not a machine can think.
Interestingly enough, my brothers and I, though we've never actually talked about, are all atheists. At least, I assume they are from scant comments they've made. Queerly, we all seem to have come to the same conclusion, without ever having talked about it with one another. And I suppose none of us find the issue terribly important either, since we've not brought it up. Why's this? It's not like we have a lot in common--I've got David's cowlick, but not his artistic ability. Richard's got my math skill but not my pretensions of elitism. And David has Richard's taste in music, but not his hulking body language. Yet we coincide here. I suspect there must be some common cause that made us all turn out as such. Was it our religious education, which was quite moderate, just enough to have something to rebel against but not enough to take to heart? Some reliable pairing between our parents' genes that produces the trait in us but not in anyone earlier on the family tree? Just a sign of the godless times we live in? I'll have to ask my brothers some time.
My great aunt died. It was, like most deaths in our family, the blessed darkness after a long, soul-crushing twilight.
Tomorrow is my weekly day off from the weight room. A great feeling to go six straight days. Unfortunately, all the new pants I bought round Christmas now fall down to my knees, even when I don't want them to.
Huge project at work. I get to bill a client--which means a lot of money. That's pretty cool.
Finally got a former employer to fill out a form for my bar application materials.
A few weeks ago, my roommate and I were watching television and some story came on the news about a woman and her gay roommate who, the announcer revealed, "think of themselves as the original Will and Grace."
SCOTT: That's bullshit, Bob. You know you and I are the original Will and Grace.
So, long story short, now Bob calls me 'Grace.'