Reading is making a comeback in a big way for me in 2026. In this post, I talk about books I hope to read in the coming year in philosophy, literature, poetry, and mathematics.
(more…)Category: Miscellaneous
Posts that don’t fit anywhere else go here.
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2025
It is the last day of the year as I write this, and in open contradiction to my recent notice of a hiatus, which I stated would last until the new year, I feel compelled to write something about the imminent end of this decidedly unusual year. As I write, 2025 has about 9-1/2 hours remaining in my time zone, and I am definitely glad to see it go.
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Momentary Hiatus
Due to a death in the family, this site is on hiatus through the remainder of December. I will see you with the next installment of my monthly roundup on January 19, 2026, if not before then.
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Go read this woman.
Her name is Jo Shaw and she runs a Substack site and YouTube channel both called Thought Couture. Like me, she refuses to fit neatly into one box. (She is large; she contains multitudes.)
As it happens, her YouTube series is part of what motivated me to start this blog and it’s even motivating me to pursue an extended project of my own that I am planning to start in early 2026.
Seriously, go follow her. Substack • YouTube
That is all.
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Welcome back?
Rejoining a craft that I can’t seem to let go of – at least not completely
I haven’t written a proper blog post in years. I never know what to say when the editor faces me down, when all I have in front of me is a blank canvas. I don’t want to be premature in saying that this part of me – one that has been in me since I first learned to wield a pencil – is dead. It’s certainly in cryopreservation at the moment.
I’ve tried. God knows how I’ve tried, how I’ve begged my mind to let go of even one idea that it knows is publishable, and yet I come away empty-handed, the metaphorical stone unwilling to release any of its precious blood. I don’t know why my brain so stubbornly refuses to let its owner express itself.
Well, I’m here to tell you something: I refuse to be held hostage to my own brain. In the characteristically rough tone I used to use when I wrote: fuck that shit. And in the words of Duke Nukem, let’s rock.
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