Muddling through Sunday

I’ve spent most of the day sat at a computer, aside from a bath, brunch and the final episode of Sherlock on BB1. I’ve handled multiple tweets including some fairly childish allegations (see tweets from me to @tetradian if interested) which involved publishing a censored comment on the chaotic domain of Cynefin. That was an interesting task and it will lead to a more elaborate blog later in the week. I’ve handled my daily emails from a pro-Rand, NLP loving author, who was permanently banned from editing wikipedia (by a member of ArbCom no less) for personal attacks and harassment, but with who I have struck up a conversation. Unlike @terradian he can cope with disagreement, but his arguments have a very similar nature: make an unsupportable assertion then defend it as logical/rational. The virtual world is a strange one and I’ve found it useful to think about some extremist challenges to my thinking. They are a bit strange – its OK apparently for the Israelis to do want they want to the Arabs, as the latter are not a US style democracy (although I think these days with the money involved its more a market than a democracy). But listening to extremes is useful. I hadn’t thought of  @tetradian as a sort of fluffy bunny un-Randian before but its an interesting perspective.

I’ve edited the wikipedia and being reported at ANI for stopping some editors trying to impose a tea party view of the definition of swift boating. I’ve cleared around a hundred emails, but still have 254 to go. I’ve written 3,000 words on an article and spent more time than I should researching a new expresso maker. Mine is breaking down and its time to buy another, current target is this pump version, no steam! Any advice welcome. I used Twitter to get information from the ERC authority on their rules for who is top of the pool and discovered the rules are different at the end of round 6 to those for rounds 1-5; which doesn’t make sense but means that Cardiff Blues are in pole position to win their group. I’ve printed three articles for daughter and a brief chat about her plans for a thesis on Cyborgs, and will need to raid the science fiction collection for her in the morning.

Now I say all of that, and its messy, its not as productive as I would have liked and its Sunday of all days. I wonder if in this modern day there is any rest short of the grave?