Muse.I.Am

I muse, therefore I am.

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Who's A Giant Cockroach, Then?

"When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from unsettling dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous vermin." Strong opening line of a modern classic: Franz Kafka, The Metamorphosis, of course.

Okay, I don't feel like a monstrous vermin, but on the bad days of this I do feel unutterably changed, transformed most unpleasantly, and rife with horror. Some days are more like that than others in regular daily life, of course. There's a reason The Metamorphosis is a seminal work. But discovering that it's possible to simply wake up one morning half-deaf with the world spinning about relentlessly? That gets me far closer to the condition than I've ever been before.

When I was about 12, I decided for my summer project that I would read all of the classics. Okay, so my literary eyes were bigger than my stomach - no surprises there. I wasn't quite born reading, but awfully close. My parents taught me to read by the time I was 3, and from A.A. Milne at that tender age on there was no stopping me. By 7, I was whitewashing fences with Tom Sawyer and the trajectory continued apace. (I never even saw a Dick/Jane primer until I stumbled across one in a school library when I was in 5th grade. I still remember thinking it was one of the weirdest and funniest things I'd ever seen. But I digress.)

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