Still with the Living

Well, I've been kind of out of it this week. I was supposed to get some research done, and I made a good starting effort; however, it degraded and I ended up reading the user's guide for a new version of Vim (a programmer's text editor, for those not in the know). I did manage to play with a few of those features while pretending to look at code involved in said research.

I think I need a vacation.

Oh! I didn't die yet, so I guess this means that my nose bleed from last week truly was meaningless.

My routine trip to the library's non-fiction isle didn't yield anything particularly interesting, so I ended up wandering the stacks. I found a book on the history of the plague called "Black Death"...who can resist? I'm such a sucker for doomsday stories. In fact, I remember a book my sister sent to me called "The Doomsday Book" by Connie Willis. Nice piece of fiction.

Anyway, the author of the present book is one of those mid-eighties history professors that uses a few too many big words. Admittedely, I sometimes do that myself, but I found myself scanning ahead and mostly reading the really horrible parts, like how many people it killed in such-and-such a place. There was a great spot where he covers previously scary illnesses, like leprosy. Ah, necrotic tissue.

So I returned that one today and somehow ended up looking for something on the suicide of Kurt Cobain. I came to my senses before I checked anything out, though I hummed "Come as You Are" all the way home.

How twisted is that?