warning: extreme valley-speak and dorkitude!

So I was, like, sitting in philosophy tutorial? and we were, like, talking about memory and stuff? I mean, the fundamental problem is, like, that it's impossible to hold up the memory-image to the original sensation which is (supposedly) being remembered so as to, like, compare them, y'know?

And I was knitting the second Dadsock, because Sean Kelly* is, like, totally the man and stuff, and doesn't mind (apparently) me knitting in tutorial on his big comfy couch while I drink rooibos tea out of my bitchin' Harvard Women's Center mug and talk Russell. And I was thinking... remember when I had all those issues with the color pattern? (It didn't stop with Heidegger, by the way)

Well, I don't remember fucking up the color pattern, but later I notice that I've fucked it up and sometimes have trouble figuring out how exactly the fuckage worked, but then I, like, rip it out, right? And I re-knit it. Hence, like, so, I've obliterated the fuckup, right? WRONG! There was certainly a fuckup, but I A. have no memory of fucking anything up, and B. have no more yarnly evidence of said fuckup.

So it's, like, totally the same problem, y'know? Philosophy is bitchin'. Rad. Totally.

*This is the Princeton site because Kelly's brand new at harvard and his harvard webpage currently blows. It doesn't have any research or CV or anything on it, just a little bio. Plus I love the dorky photo!