Vanity

Middlesex, an unintended review

So, I'm innocently emailing to and fro. The other end of the line is much heavier on the IQ than I, so I'm trying to put a little spit shine on ye olde reader's advisory.

(Is it easier for you to book talk in bytes? It is for me.)

Here I go, posting stuff I oughtn't. This is the stuff born of flattery.

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"One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small" -- Jefferson Airplane

Soooooo. I can't help but wonder at this point. Do I look like a cataloguer?

I know that as the last of a dying breed of generalists I can pass for a few things, but a *cataloguer*? Really? Did all of the heavy duty folks phone out of work?

I assure you, come to my house, see the mess, and be disabused of the notion that I can put order to chaos. I _like_ Chaos Theory and Complexity. (Which I ought post about sometime.) If you squint hard enough, maybe I'll blur into an Indexer. Indexers are to cataloguing what sociologists are to psychologists.

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