There was no (new) blood on the carpet as a result of the Milan-Liverpool Champions Final yesterday. If anyone supported Liverpool wisely kept it quiet.
There really isn’t any old blood on the carpet either, although Muffin remains disgruntled at MeiMei’s presence and continues to expand the casualty list. :-/
Linus and I talked about the course I’m teaching online this summer, particularly the challenge of meeting people only through their minds – or, more precisely, only through how words show the mind-at-work. Jinglan showed off some bridges she has designed as greenways for Walden Pond (see the Executive Summary to understand the need and scope of this project). We mused on the metaphor of communication for these connectors that allow ecosystems to stay connected, and the metaphor of literal connectors (bridges, greenways) for the process of communication.
Using text is so tricky. I knew, for instance, that on two occasions recently I tried to present deadpan, not using my characteristic parenthetically enclosed exclamation point (!) or a smiley face ­čÖé or even the quotations marks that would have denoted I was using my interlocutor’s label: “stunningly handsome,” “insensitive psychologist.” How does this effect how I am read? Do those who know me catch the jest or wonder if I’m psychotic? Do those who do not know me consider this rhetorical slippage or an indicator of a personality on the edge? ­čśë
Alas, just like words uttered into the vacuum of space, text sent hurling through cyberspace cannot be retrieved! Evidence can be erased, but the trace remains…
How hard can we play? :-/ And how shall I carry this lesson into this next round of teaching – online?

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