I discovered this week that my work computer is defective – it’s been compromised from the outside by nefarious folk with nebulous intentions. Luckily I had the opportunity and presence of mind to back everything up when I began noticing abnormalities. I actually did this with my iRiver, and it’s worth noting that for this purposes it’s definitely superior to the brand leader: disa went thru a similar spat recently and backed all her music up on her office-mates iPOD, only to find that the critter is unwilling to drop it back again. An anti-theft strategy that really punches holes into its utility (for an illuminating discussion on this face spited by needless nose cutting, see here).
Today I moseyed to work with my bag half-open – the zip pops when it’s too full – and I have a strong worry that along the way it ejected my journal, full of piping hot knowledge. I’m hoping to add a second Phew to the post, in the event I return home and find it staring at me from my bedroom floor, but damn! I really have lost my memory – it’s as much that externalized in scripts, notes and mnemonic aids as the stuff inside the noggin, an argument elucidated in Being There, Andy Clark’s great book about the concept of the embodied mind that entered cognitive science sometime in the late 90s (I think; others – notably Eldan – know much more about this than me, having only incompletely read it as an undergrad). Obviously I study the noggin somewhat more, but the truth of it isn’t lost on me. Unlike, I fear, my journal.
So I’m internet/email crippled (I can get basic messages now via my hotmail, but no big attachments, and for that I’ve got to go to a shared room on another floor. The indignity!) and without all my productive notes made this year. So expect extreme erraticism.