“Don’t do too much science”, said the taxi driver as he dropped me in front of the Interdisciplinary Sciences building at the University of Alberta, arriving early to do a presentation I’d spent nervous weeks carefully preparing, on the topic of automation Openstack installations, aimed at showing the audience that they would get to their end goals sooner by following the method I recommended, and even though I work for a library and our goals are furthering humanities scholarship, rightly believing, I think, that the result of our work includes the betterment of humanity, I was still fully aware that universities and scholars also contribute to research that supports more efficient slaughter, the betterment of munitions, the apologists for genocide, and so there was no guarantee that my work wouldn’t contribute in some way to the worst things ever done, and maybe it already had, and that maybe, sadly, inevitably this was a more likely outcome than it contributing in many small steps to many small projects, together having a cumulative positive effect?
Impossible to resist the full moon when it illuminates our faces and makes our hearts glow with a warmth in which we recognize ourselves with greater precision and honesty.
Sleep is heavier than consciousness. Sleep is not limited by consciousness’ conceit to understand. When I am full of fear and doubt, sleep’s varied tormentors frighten me more than consciousness’ surgical reason. Perhaps tonight I can stay awake: the insomniac, the moon watcher, hand on the window, heart leaking, brain circling, candle burning, the unguided lover.