(no subject)

Minor revelation: satire relies heavily on intent. Hence, if intent is bunk, then satire is worthless, because who knows it's satire? Especially older satire, such as A Modest Proposal; it's trivially easy to scream "You monster!" and ignore it.
(Thanks to Prog for sparking this train of thought.)

(no subject)

Normally I'd get all bitchy at Ruthanne about not bothering to show up for work. But Ruthanne not showing up means I get her hours, and if she and Brincefield flake out much more they may (fingers crossed) be out of jobs and out of my hair, so I say go to it, Ruthanne!

I'm about three-quarters of the way through Solaris, and maybe one-tenth of the way through my paper. Hard to work on the paper in the kiosk, though.