Take note Looper:
I'm reading "Wittgenstein's Poker," which arrived from the library and was placed in the wrong mail receptacle by the Woman Who is Beneath Me. I was interested in something referred to in the book as "Moore's Paradox," which goes: Smith left the room but I don't believe it. Witt. was interested as it seemed to be an illogical statement no one would say, but not "P and not-P." I was interested because I thought, if something is true don't we have the option to disbelieve? Then I realised that it was a matter of language -- that a simple statement like "The sky is blue," is actually "I believe the sky is blue." We just don't state the "I believe." "Smith left the room, but I don't believe it," is either very plainly: "THEY believe or say Smith left, but I don't believe it," or it is just p or not-p in regards to belief -- the actual location of Smith being outside the statement. Maybe, anyway. I have no interest in philosophy. But that seems to indicate that the "truth" has an inner-outer, subj-obj, me-you facet, which explains a lot. I was in a conversation about faith the other day, with a Catholic, when I saw that to him I am an atheist, although to me I am not. His truth is filtered through his personal beliefs -- I never thought about it before (don't much care, to be sure). I'd've thought, I reckon, that any statement or label about me would only be valid coming from me -- well, that's clearly beside the point. It makes the world not a place of shifting focus, exactly, but a place with infinite superimpositions each from a particular viewpont. No wonder everything is so difficult.

Had breakfast at the American Grill with M -- only I had the dreaded Beet Napoleon salad I always order. M had Eggs Benedict. I don't like hollandaise sauce, or alfredo sauce, or cream sauce -- or any of those. I asked them to leave off the mountain of candied walnuts, which are disgusting, and asked her to ask the chef what I could have instead. She wouldn't go, though, so I said I wanted tomatoes and avocado. But they were out of avocado so I wound up with olives, instead. We talked about Joe, who just had a long surgery. M flew down to get him in hospital, then do 400 bazillion things to get his house in order, before flying back. She's a good friend.

Then I went to OrificeMax to talk about getting the yearbook bound. I was happy to see the man who'd substituted at the Lut many years ago behind the counter, as I had been dreading having to explain everything to an uncomprehending noob. He's a typical northwestern man -- tall and bearded, kindly-seeming, and soft around the edges. At least I suppose I'd say that -- hey, the truth thing is cool! I believe that he's a typical northwestern man... I think that might put me back to the idea of shared culture -- something I believe doesn't exist in the USA -- since one would tend to have shared beliefs (and be able to drop the "I believe") if one lived in a homogenous culture. That would lend all those "I believes" the aura of absolute truth, I believe.

My fridge was well-stocked this morning with a spare lamb souvlaki and half my beet Napoleon salad -- I just ate the souvlaki (I'm waiting for the entire freaking There to download as the downloaded update yesterday rendered the program unable to function so I can do frivolous things like eat) and one of the chunks was beef, not lamb. Hmmmm, tricky, and also annoying. Yes, through no fault of There, inc I'm sure, I'm currently exiled from that virtual world. Ugh!