Pulling A Blyleven

You may or may not have noticed that neither William nor I liveblogged the game last night. And surely, you cried real tears. I did too. But let's look at the situation.

1. RK had a pedagogy class, becuase he wants to be a professor, and certificates on your degree that say you know how to teach will help him to that end. 3 hours every Tuesday night though? Yes, you should indeed feel sorry for him.

2. WV went to California because he's arranging for his impending transfer to Stanford. I know, right?

3. RK is still unable to watch the games due to blackout restrictions and his cable provider not carrying the channel the games are on.

4. RK is also in the midst of frantically preparing to defend his proposal so he can write his thesis, so he can get a piece of paper that says he's smart, so he can be a professor. It's a vicious chain of events.

Enough of talking about myself in the third person. I have no consolation to give, we can't undo the feelings of abandonment that can really only be worked out in therapy and your local bar. You may have felt like you were standing at the precipice of the abyss, gazing over it, feeling the pervasive emptiness of the universe and all material objects. It's at this point you realize, "at last, when you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares into you." [paraphrase]. I think Camus said that. Or some friend who likes Star Trek way too much. That sounds like something a Trekkie would say. Just stare, stare into the abyss. And laugh, laugh in the face of meaninglessness! Be back later with something hopefully more substantive.