ARGH. To be trapped inside on a day like this, at a time like this, is just plain wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The hills are an incandescent green. What I wouldn’t give to be wading through knee-high grass to go lie down under an oak tree looking east at the Sierras. But I must finish this paper, because that is my ticket to sunny green hills in France. Okay, that is insane, to write papers so that you can go do something you could go do already. Let’s not talk about that right now.

I do like funny brain stories. Oliver Sacks wrote an article about Francis Crick in the New York Review of Books which is very good. You should read it. You will learn about motion blindness and an island in the Pacific where everyone is colorblind. I am very jealous of the unbounded optimism with which people like Crick and Sacks have taken on neuroscience.