Open Sans, how do we love thee? Let us count the ways..

This is a poem I wrote when I was, maybe, eleven or twelve, when I first heard of the second law of thermodynamics:

 s        a                        r
    a                               n
     w            l      e
       c    t
            y               l
                 r         o ;
                  b                  l
             e      g
                       u  a
                 u           ,
                 t              f
                                 i     h
 s           f               u    l
         e                          y
                      t               n

I was reminded of it by reading this from Norbert Wiener:

We are swimming upstream against a great torrent of disorganization, which tends to reduce everything to the heat death of equilibrium and sameness. … This heat death in physics has a counterpart in the ethics of Kierkegaard, who pointed out that we live in a chaotic moral universe. In this, our main obligation is to establish arbitrary enclaves of order and system. … Like the Red Queen, we cannot stay where we are without running as fast as we can (Norbert Wiener, I Am a Mathematician: The Later Life of a Prodigy (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1964), 324; quoted by James Gleick in The Information: A History, a Theory, a Flood (New York: Pantheon Books, 2011), 237).

I wish all of you a year filled with joy, life, laughter, love,
progress toward your goals, and good health and happiness.

This is going to be a short post, because I am going to run off and read my new discovery until I fall asleep. I’ve just found LOGICOMIX [shouting in the original], courtesy of Cédric Eyssette. LOGICOMIX is a comic book about the history of the foundations of mathematics and logic. Now I am going to go and revel in it.

Emma Bull quoted Jonathan Lethem (“The Ecstasy of Influence: A plagiarism”):

A time is marked not so much by ideas that are argued about as by ideas that are taken for granted. The character of an era hangs upon what needs no defense.

C.S. Lewis in his Introduction to Sister Penelope Lawson’s translation of On the Incarnation by Athanasius wrote:

Every age has its own outlook. It is specially good at seeing certain truths and specially liable to make certain mistakes. We all, therefore, need the books that will correct the characteristic mistakes of our own period. And that means the old books.

Lewis’s advice to read the old books is good, and it is advice that I follow. It occurs to me, however, that in addition to books from the past, I would like to read books from the future. Those might be even better at correcting our blind spots.

I’m having a go at NaBloPoMo. That’s National Blog Posting Month—nothing to do with (bless the mark!) postmodernism. It’s a knockoff of NaNoWriMo.

The State of Apps – Q1 2009 « Wakoopa blog.

I am the Master of my fate;
I am the Captain of my soul.

Risk taker;

Helped his wife
grow from tentative young lady
to powerful, self-confident woman.

Pours out love
to his children;
does his duty no matter what.

Regular as sunrise.

King of his life.

Makes decisions:
with his life-long love and
in solitude and silence.
Carries them through,

family, friends,
colleagues of every position
the flowers and the fruits thereof.
Teacher, Mentor to every Telemachos;
loyal friend.

Formed filled with pietas:
filial, marital, paternal, patriotic.

Knowing every person with full acceptance.
Body, emotion, intellect, and kindness
serve intuition.

Mind most orderly
yet interlaced with fantasy and humor.

Lover of Nature,
he found her beneath stones of New York City

as in tree and field.


transformed painful disease
into poetry
accepting a teacher’s gift.

Learning from every moment,
He transformed disaster into opportunity.

Steadfast, the nerdy-looking athlete-poet
married the most beautiful girl in the world.

Boy-man who always knew what he wanted
was ready to pay the price.

Generous man
hard to say no.

So much to say;
hard to say it.

Full of wisdom;
fewer words as life goes on.

Lover of poetry;


All of one piece
the same to everyone.

Struggle for integrity
against drive for perfection.

profound kindness
wise teacher of those who would listen.

Always to be able
to look self in eyes in the mirror
straight into the eyes
of every other person’s self.

World-saving generation
Sadness grows
as world repeats all mistakes
beloved country
sinks beneath waves of arrogance and false pride
while talking humility.

Knight of integrity,

Appreciator of beauty
self-taught connoisseur
always learning
beauty in new forms.

World-wide view,
as if from a great height,
feet on the ground.

Anxiety and performance.
Envision, plan, and execute.

King, giver
of blessing.

Music love
human voice,

Lover of grandchildren
Noble Patriarch


Poor naked wretches, whereso’er you are,
That bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,
How shall your houseless heads and unfed sides,
Your loop’d and window’d raggedness, defend you
From seasons such as these? O, I have ta’en
Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;
Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,
That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,
And show the heavens more just. (Lear)

I have loved Lisa Kristine’s work since I first saw it. I reviewed it earlier in this journal. She now has her own blog at

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