So what did you do this weekend? Now there's a damned loaded question if ever I've heard one. I'll tell you what I did: I thought of things that I was going to do, and then went and thought of more things that I was going to do, and then went and thought of a whole bunch of other things that I was going to do, and then forgot the first bunch of things that I was going to do while being distracted by thinking of another bunch of things that I was going to do, and forgetting another bunch of things that I was going to do.
I present, as a case in point, a list. I wrote it on Friday. It's a list of things that I was going to, but so far haven't, written about. I like to write lists of things that I'm going to write about. Not only does it give you a completely pointless sense of accomplishment about things that you haven't done, but you can also neglect to read about them later (another useful way of forgetting about things).
Life 3.0 - a Users Guide
News article from a Wishy Washy person
Abecedarian Poem about typing
Facebook enemies list
There were several other items in that list. And all completely incomplete, I might note. I did get around to writing a rough draft of one of these items, but that might be all I ever do write of it.
It's most distracting to think, don't you think? I've been having thoughts for practically all my life, and I can tell you that as soon as you've thought of one thing, another thing comes along and you're suddenly thinking about that, and it's impossible to hold those two things in your head at once. I don't know how philosophers manage to think so determinedly about one subject over the course of an entire book. How do they stop themselves from being distracted? Maybe they spend most of their time not thinking, and that time they spend not thinking provides them with the lack of distraction they need to write their book.
As for myself, I spend half my day trying to remember the ideas that I had hours ago, and being frustrated because I can't remember them, while in my frustration, other ideas suddenly occur to me, as if they had been lurking in my head, waiting for just this moment to irritate me. Thinking about one thing while all this is going on, well, it's like climbing up a mountainside, while an avalanche is thundering down upon you, and a hurricane is whirling about you, and a vulture is sitting on your head trying to peck out your eyes, and a plane is shooting at you, and you are wearing only your underpants; and you are not only the person climbing up the mountainside, you're the avalanche thundering down as well as the hurricane, the vulture, the aeroplane, the person in the plane, and the underpants.
So please! Tell me what you were going to do this weekend but didn't do this weekend because you thought of other things you were going to do this weekend and caused you to forget those other things you were going to do on the weekend before spending half a day trying to remember what those other things you forgot were (and presumably still are) after you have forgotten them.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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