I need to pee. Don’t you?

Screw my email. (Even though I already replied to two of them.

Walking through the building on my way out, I ran into Cliff. So we talked for maybe an hour, eventually waiting by Liz’s car. Wondering where she was, we went to wander off and find her. That’s when she popped out and told us to wait. I love Liz, but she’s such a female. From a distance, she thought I was female, so she got out of her car and hid in the woods to watch Cliff. *shakes head*

There was a long discussion in which Liz and Cliff were arguing over the statement “the exception proves the rule”, which is actually a false statement. Liz couldn’t communicate herself properly, but I managed to translate what she was saying into actual logic. I remember my logic symbology. *smiles* She was saying that there was no box in the parking lot, and that this means there’s a box elsewhere.

I translated this as, “There exists an A. There are no As here, therefore there must exist an A elsewhere. Therefore, there exists an A elsewhere.” It’s a completely silly valid argument, but doesn’t really mean much, furthermore is disconnected from what “the exception proves the rule” means. Such is the distance between words and logic. Logic doesn’t really do you much good in terms of practical application. It’s only useful when you’re sitting in the CCM parking lot at 11 PM arguing over and argument.

I won’t even get into how me being female proves that bananas are purple. (Actually, my proof is that it’s impossible for me to be female, therefore if I’m female impossibilities are true, therefore bananas are purple. Can derive anything from a contradiction! Much fun.)

We also talked about the disconnect between perception and reality, which perturbed Liz to hell. Especially when I whipped out Ye Olde Decarte. Which make me realize something I never really considered before. Okay, so we perceive the world, right? There’s your display in front of you. So, how is that getting there? We like to think it’s really there. Well, what if it isn’t? If somebody or something is feeling our perceptions into us, that means something else exists. It’s a trivial point, but I wonder if it’s ever been written. Probably has.

We were hungry, so we diner-ed. (I’m from Jersey, bitch.) We ordered a couple things and shared. It was… relaxing. It felt nice to be social.

Oh. I forgot to mention. Cliff got into Mensa. The acceptence letter came three weeks late. “You’d think those pretentious bastards would at least have a nice YOU’RE STUPID! letter.” Ha ha. Liz is all bragging now. Which. Bothers me. It’s like parents who brag about their kids to make themselves look better to other people. I don’t know. It just. It’s something for Cliff to be proud of, not for somebody else to take credit for by association.

What makes me wonder is that he told me of his own feelings about his intelligence last month before the test. He said he didn’t feel that intelligent. It makes me wonder. Is that really true, or is that just his inner critic being a douchebag? Probably the later. I’ve known him too long. He may not know math, but he can explain logical arguments and literary prose like nobody else I know. I can barely keep up half the time. But, I do, because I’m pretty damn smart myself.

Remember, I’m the one that translated what Liz was saying into something we could all understand. Woo hoo for me.

I stated in the diner that I wanted to make new friends. As expected, Liz was offended. She takes things too personally. Cliff said go for it. I love them, but I want to meet new people. And stuff.

To that end, Cliff gave me Tracy’s number. I’ve mentioned her infrequently here, but I have indeed written an entry on the lass. The constant joke about her is that she likes when guys perform analingus on her. (And yes, Ashley, I’m aware of how that reduced her to one attribute.) This is really amusing in retrospect. I used to think “Dude, that’s pretty out there.” Well. I’ve done it. And. It’s kind of fun!

Ha ha.

I figure, I could use an ackward situation. (Meeting Tracy, not licking her ass.) Just call her out of nowhere and be like, “Yeah, you don’t know me, but I know you!” If my stress acts up, I’ll let the idea go. Cliff said he’d introduce me to her someday, as she goes to county. No pressure. Exactly what I needed to hear. She was a good friend of his when he was in the psycho school (Montgomery Academy). He did actually talk about me to try and prime her for me. Heh, what are friends for?

Yeah, a nice ackward situation. It’s nice to have something interesting happen now and then.

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He’s probably telling the truth. I’m in Mensa, and I don’t feel that I’m particularly smart, really. They call it imposter syndrome, the feeling that you’re somehow faking all of your accomplishments and will eventually be found out as a fraud, even though that’s not true at all. A lot of high-IQ folks have it, including me, at times.

BTW, that plot has been written — it’s called The Matrix.

September 21, 2005

Descartes….and the evil genius. THAT is where it’s at.

September 21, 2005

*looks at Karner’s note* Phew! Thank god there’s a NAME for it now! Or probably always was…but at least I’m now in the know phew!