Thursday 10 August 2000

Pic of the day: Yes, I had a haircut finally. Real men don't have long hair!

Real men vs microbes

I feel a vague spiritual kinship with the philosopher Kierkegaard. Of course, it helps that he is a philosopher. From a Nordic country. And a rather melancholic one. And a heretic Christian who looked with dismay on the prevalent form of the religion. I bet he was single too. You can't write like that and have someone in your life.

Anyway, the reason why I thought of him again, was his statement that "people take too many things seriously. Death is serious."

My old Norwegian teacher from high school used to say that all true poetry is about death or love. (Or was that death and love?) I am not an expert in any of the above, but I think I can agree that there are really a lot of things that are not very important in perspective.

That doesn't stop me from writing about them, though.

***

I got up way too early today. The good thing about it is that I came to work early. Near the end of the day I got very sleepy, and finally sat with my back against the wall and slept for ca 10-15 minutes. This refreshed me greatly, and I continued to work the full workday. I think workplaces should encourage naps instead of coffee and cigs. Meow.

The infection that has me paralyzed with fear is still there, and it helped a lot that a coworker entertained me with her knowledge of people who had died from root canal infections, and her own two months in pain purgatory. "But it is a great way to lose weight" she confided. Do I look like I need to lose weight? I can't remember last time I was this normal. Perhaps I don't have the obesity bug.

Yes, in the latest issue of New Scientist, I read a long article about two researchers who have isolated a virus that make various creatures obese. Chicken, mice, monkeys. You infect them with the virus and they grow fat. (But cholesterol levels go down.) The virus is also present in many obese humans but is rare in the lean ones, or so the studies tell this far. New studies are underway, as is good and proper. The virus seems to work by turning immature (potential) fat cells into mature (actual) fat cells. If so, it is possible that it may not work on adults humans. Still, it is a creepy idea, huh?

I'm not sure what is worst, the idea that fat people are lazy slobs or the idea that they are contagious and should be kept away from children. (Actually the virus is gone after 60 days, but tell that to a normal newspaper reader.)

Anyway, after listening to my coworker, I hurried to call my dentist. (The dentists may prescribe antibiotics if they so wish, and they have a lot shorter waiting lines than doctors.) I got an appointment tomorrow Friday at 12:45. Of course, it is not obvious that he will be able to help me. It depends a lot on whether or not it really is a root canal infection, as I have assumed.

I know I'm not facing this as a real man. A real man would laugh in the face of danger or death itself. Then again, I have known real men and they were not very bright.

***

Speaking of men who laugh in the face of danger, I've finished reading Edgar Rice Burrough's "Warlord of Mars", the third and last of the original books about the fighting gentleman from Virginia and his adventures on Mars. I have now downloaded and started reading "Thuvia, Maid of Mars". I strongly suspect that the title meant something different in 1920 than it does today.

As usual, Burroughs' language is wonderful. Despite the less than scientific nature of his story, he does not shrink back from long sentences and unusual words. Trusting his reader to love the English langauge like he himself does, Burroughs enlists all manner of tricks to make the story enjoyable.

But it is strange to think that at the time when my grandfather was young, the values that were admired were those of a fighting gentleman. A slayer of enemies and protector of women. These days, we use economic sanctions against enemies, and the women protect themselves thank you very much. It's been a long 80 years, huh?