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The strangeness of Sam Harris's support of Tim Ferriss ("The Four Hour Work Week").

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I like Sam Harris's books. He's an aethistic neuroscientist/philospher who writes plainly and clearly. I was curious about Tim Ferriss's podcasts. I did not know that the two were slightly connected. In one of the Ferris podcasts Sam Harris mentions that he wishes he could do all or some of the stuff recommended in "The Four Hour Work Week". This connection seems strange to me... One of Tim Ferris's ways of working less (according to Ferriss himself) was to set up a brain supplement selling site. The supplement is called BrainQuicken. Hmm. There have been no tests which proved it work. Ferriss claims to have made $40,000 a month from it. Those claims have been disputed. So, Sam Harris support of Ferriss is a sort of testimonial. A testimonial of a person who claims to make money selling worthless pills. Is it worse or better that he makes $40,000 a month? Because if it is true then he is taking $480,000 a year from the gullible, some of wh

Self induced health-scare over...

...I stopped planning my own funeral. (And listened, with a smile on my face, to Andy Narell's "Tatoom".)

Anyway I take comfort from my "moments"...

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I went for a walk the other morning, quite early, and had another of those "moments". The straight town road was in front of me, and at the end of it a cloudy horizon. Above me the sky was clear, slowly brightening. And behind me at about 40° elevation, a nearly full moon. The road ran East-West. There was a scattering of small long clouds just above the denser ones on the horizon. And there was Venus, above and to the right of where I imagined the sun would rise shortly. The light from the hidden (to me) sun hitting the moon's surface. The moment that I had was that if we were not used to such sights (if we would not take them for granted), it would feel as if we were living on "another planet", or in a science fiction film maybe. And inside that moment was another feeling of what I was really looking at. From space, and not to scale, it was this: From space, and more to scale, this: (I don't know

When I can't sleep...

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When I can't sleep I listen out for dogs barking in the night.  I don't know why but it makes me feel good.   The train line from Gallarate to Milano is close by, and I listen out for trains too. The idea of mysterious voyages in the night can make me fall asleep. This is linked to Toranomon Station when I lived in Tokyo. It means "Tiger Gate". Romantic. Planes are almost as good as trains, flying passed the Moon maybe. Flying through the night as I lie in bed. If those fail, then reciting poems I'm learning by heart can sometimes do it. And Death Shall Have No Dominion . Out Revels Now Are Over . She Walks In Beauty Like The Night . The Eagle . I Met A Traveller ...

Three Places

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Sometimes, when studying for my A-levels years ago, in Bigglsewade, I'd go to the cemetery over the hedge. The hedge was at the end of our back garden. An unofficial path ran along that hedge, passed all the back gardens, to the small road which ran through the cemetery. The road was (is?) only opened for funerals. In the center of the cemetery is a building which looks like a small church, but I don't think ever was. It is a sort of storehouse for the grave diggers and gardeners. In my last year of school, I'd go into the cemetery and study Physics or Eng. Lit. sitting on one of the benches, near evergreen trees under a blue sky. It was a pleasant place to stay, though not really very good for serious study. Too relaxing and the curved surface of the bench would make setting the books down and writing awkward. In Yokohama, Japan, about eight years later, my teacher Hideko Imai Sensei took me to the British Commonwealth Cemetery.  If is ful

Poetry, Backgammon and Tension

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The third verse of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam goes like this: And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door! You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more." It is one of the poems I'm learning by heart. (Not the whole thing, it is far too long, but the first few verses.)  Awake my little ones and fill the cup... Anyway the second line has, to me, a sort of tension: "Open then the Door!" Because it would be more natural to say say " open the Door then " but that would not rhyme. So " then" is put in the "wrong" place... "Open then the Door!" ...and gives me pleasure. It happens in other rhyming poems. And I noticed that I get the same feeling of tension when playing backgammon. If you don't know anything about backgammon you can go to Wikipedia. Like poker it is a game of

I Fell In Love With Those Curves.

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I saw the flower of the melissa plant on my balcony and fell in love with the curves. The flowers die pretty quickly and the one I wanted to look at with my Veho was a poor shriveled up thing by the time I got round to it. Luckily others had blossomed in the meantime, but even then it took me a while to find one which matched my inital impression. Here are the first attempts, the width of each of these photos is about 1cm. Then I found her: A tiny thing but leaping up out of the green with a hairy tongue sticking out and a smaller spiral one almost hidden within the mouth. Ah, those curves, those curves... especially the upper one going up at more than 45° then sloping over towards the mouth. Is it just me?