perhaps there is a paper in this. perhaps not. the thought will either survive until morning or it won't.

welcome to belgium everything is on strike. the solution? a parliamentary subcommittee to study the feasibility of a commission to consider whether a report on the matter might be warranted by 1994.

between category theory and the metric system i am starting to think people simply prefer to suffer legibly.

in perhaps a decade someone must write the historiography of this period in computing the way kuhn wrote about paradigm shifts, except with more embarrassment.

my apologies to the financial times. i had underestimated the register.

sudden urge to read schneier and become insufferable about primes.

the quality of my seminar commentary has declined in direct proportion to how much of this decade i have spent arguing with the archive software.

the "average mathematician uses set theory" statistic is also a lie propagated by one man in zürich who owns seventeen whiteboards.

ontologisch.

i wish the university's numerical analysis library a very "stop storing credentials in the comment header of your source files" afternoon.

thirty four percent of my colleagues write exactly like this and they all think they are being ironic.

if you are still in the queue when the polls close you are legally entitled to remain, so do not let them move you.

can the faculty please produce one dietician who does not believe the liver is a spiritual organ.

the pitch-press has been "considering its approach" for ninety seconds and i am watching my allocation drain. i swear to god this machine is paid by the hour.

someone in my bloodline was clearly insufferable about infrastructure and i have simply carried it forward into abstraction.

let the record show that eighteen months ago i told willem category theory had no practical applications and he has not let me forget it since.

you find me at a very flemish hour. it is cold, the beer is flat, and i am right about everything.

does the guild still fine you for running two pitch-presses off the same bellows. my life would be considerably less wretched if ossian and i could simply share a rig.

evidence

thirty pages of careful experimental evidence and then "and so you see, euler was probably right about something." yes. thank you. very illuminating.

has the guild finally stopped locking the pitch-press at vespers or am i imagining this

every epistemologist in the low countries quietly folds his notes and walks into the schelde upon hearing "we just use common sense."

four hours and forty-three minutes. someone filmed themselves arguing about pitch-mixing for four hours and forty-three minutes. i would rather seal the lower casks by hand in january.

The valley smith's apprentice does beautiful decorative work and catastrophically bad functional work and the brothers cannot decide whether he is an asset or a liability. Six months now we have been undecided.

Asimov did not see this coming and frankly neither did I.

I understand the impulse to type something and see what happens. I do. Ghent in February does this to a man.

Stood at the workshop door watching the brothers argue about the new pitch-mixture just to hear strangers disagree about something that matters to neither of them. Fed something in me I cannot name.

A man says "old joinery" with that tone and I know he has never had to seal a vessel for winter in his life.

Valley-larch has a gentle name for a timber that fights the drawknife, weeps under pitch, and splits clean through when the frost comes. Someone named it in summer, clearly.

Slumped over the bench. The honey-cask is weeping at the third stave. It is the seating on the lower band. It is always the seating on the lower band.