Cue That Philosophical Interlude, Betches.

R. and I have spent some time talking about some rather technical issues regarding the Sorites Paradox and the 'problem' of vague predicates. It is the first time in quite a while --- we're talking at least 5 years --- that I have spoken at length with anyone about such a technical and cutting-edge-sexy philosophical issue in the Analytic tradition.

My life as a philosopheress has become so rich since leaving graduate school. Regaining the helm of my own intellectual and artistic life is deeply rewarding and empowering. I struggle, occasionally, to define my place in the philosophical community. There are only certain moments in which that definition matters to me. The vast majority of the time, I am comfortable in my own skin. I'm more than happy to be my scholastic friends' authority on Kant; an overflowing fountain of detailed information on the English Enlightenment; a skeptical voice in ethical dialogue. The truth of the matter is that I have been blessed with some truly wonderful educators who have required of me more reading, work, and writing than is actually reasonable for a single human being in a given semester. I have read (and recall) most of Coplestone's History of Philosophy series. I am in love with a philosopher of Mathematics who dabbles in philosophy of language and has developed a recent interest in applied ethics. I am dear friends with an up-and-coming novelist and philosopher in the existentialist tradition. My life is so full of such wide and varied members of my discipline, and have been the benefactor of their intellectual and personal lives.

And then, there is my family. My family who has always been supportive of my choice to spend the last ten years studying philosophy, yet wants me to provide a definitive account of what my place in that tradition. I never know what to do with that question. My only account for myself is that I am the culmination of the last twenty-seven years of experience, the most dominant feature of which is a burning and passionate desire to think, to be, and to engage a very particular body of literature. How might I answer their questions about my position in the philosophical tradition apart from saying, I am Donovan's friend? I am Gaby's co-conspirator, I am Ashley's favorite resource, I am Ross's sounding board?

The truth of the matter is that I have always had a sense of myself -- a strong sense -- that what is most crucial to any "definition" of my "philosophy" is my relationships within the context of that very tradition.

Just as it is with my art, the content is secondary to the urge that motivates it. And ultimately, that urge seems tied up in the social aspect of philosophical dialogue. It is where I am happiest, and most myself.

Flu Knitting

I have some variety of the flu. This is infuriating for several reasons. First, I have not been sick with anything contagious in something like 3 years. Second, my symptoms? Totally lame! Headache, fever, and my back feels achy. I'm also filled with grumpiness and fatigue. Third, I am missing work, and while normally I would welcome a vacation, I am impoverished and the holidays are coming.

Which brings me to my mounting to-knit list.

1) Gaby-related knitting. Something brightly colored and warm. I would like if it was technically interesting, but I'm not going to push it.

2) Steve's Skiing Hat. I have knit and re-knit the brim on this stupid thing some ridiculous number of times. Steve is an imposing dude, size wise. It looks too small, and I'm not speaking to it at the moment. It sits in my knitting bag and I glare at it. It is made of Malabrigo, and should really behave.

3) Secret Project commissioned by Philosophy Kat.

4) Beanie for Max. A recent request. I'm allowing it. I need to procure royal blue yarn. DK or Worsted would be best. He lives in FL and AZ so a cotton, linen, or silk blend would probably be best.

5) AFP Cowl. This is going to be rushed, but I'm working on an alpaca lace cowl for Amanda Palmer to give her at her show because I am holy crap inspired by her life and her music. No, I don't care if that's creepy. She *Likes* creepy fans. Sod off, haters.

6) Galloway-related knitting. I have a distinct feeling that the socks I'm working on right this moment are going to end up belonging to The Gardeness. I *may* even have enough yarn to do something for The Gardener, also. The colorway of this Light Brown Hare yarn (Crispin's Day) is much more suited to their wardrobes than mine. And the cabling on these socks would look lovely on Mrs. G's feet. I reserve the right to get greedy and keep them for myself. Not sure yet.

7) Donovan gloves. Crap. Really Prag? You really wanted to try knitting herringbone for the first time on frigging gloves? Scrap that project, and start over. Don't be dumb.

8) S Justus. I want to do socks, but I'll need a recon mission from Gabs.

9) Crystal's Coraline outfit. Oh my goodness. I cannot even talk about this right now. I'm sorry this is taking so long. Stumbling block after stumbling block.

10) Carl wants a Flyers Hat. And socks. He may have to pick one for Yuletide, and get the other after new years... I'd like to manage both by boxing day.

11) FINISH RACHAEL'S EFFING GLOVES! GODDAMN.

12) Ross? Oh, dear.


OK. I usually set a limit of 12 for holiday knitting. It's like the Twelve Days of Christmas, only it's a) 12 Projects, b) Knitting instead of Days, and c) has nothing to do with Jesus. Oh, and d) Madness. Don't forget the madness.


I have spent my flu-ridden state sleeping and drinking a lot of hot apple cider, taking advil, watching crime drama, and knitting on these socks. They're cabled. I haven't done cable work in a really long time. It is very rewarding and I miss it a lot. However, after about 6 straight hours of it today, I started getting delirious and making mistakes. I will come back to it tomorrow, since it currently feels like I will also be missing work tomorrow as well.

I will say this: I am a pretty productive knitter when I'm not feeling well and don't have a choice but to sit around and put my mind to it.