Alarming News: I like Morgan Freeberg. A lot.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: We were following a trackback and thinking "hmmm... this is a bloody excellent post!", and then we realized that it was just part III of, well, three...Damn. I wish I'd written those.
Anti-Idiotarian Rottweiler: ...I just remembered that I found a new blog a short while ago, House of Eratosthenes, that I really like. I like his common sense approach and his curiosity when it comes to why people believe what they believe rather than just what they believe.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is an intriguing guy...[he] asks great questions and answers others with style, flair, reason and wit. On the blogroll he goes. Make him a part of your regular blogospheric reading. I certainly will.
Brutally Honest: Morgan Freeberg is brilliant.
Common Sense Junction: Misha @ Anti-Idiotarian never ceases to amaze me. He keeps finding other good blogs. I went over to A.I. this morning for my daily Misha fix and he had found this guy named Morgan Freeberg in Fair Oaks, California, that has a blog, House of Eratosthenes. Freeberg says its "The Blog That Nobody Reads" but it may now become the blog that everybody reads.
Jaded Haven: Good God, Morgan, you cover a topic from front to back with a screwy thoroughness I find mind boggling. I'm in awe of your thought proccesses, my friend, you're an exceptional talent. You start by throwing in the kitchen sink, tie in someone's syphilitic uncle, bend around a rip tide of brilliance and bring it all home in a neat, diamond dripping package of an exceptionally readable moment of damn fine wordsmithing. I love reading you.
Mein Blogovault: Make "the Blog that No One Reads" one of your daily reads.
Philmon: When Morgan meanders, stick with him - he's got a point and it'll be worth it in the end. He's not a hit-and-run snarky quip kind of guy. The pieces all fall into place like tumblers in a lock and bang! He's opened a cognative door for you.
Rightlinx: Morgan at House of Eratosthenes is one of the best writers out there. I read him nearly every day because he manages to provide an interesting perspective, even though I don't always agree.
Poetic Justice: Cletus! Ah gots a laiv one fer yew...
He was considerably younger than I am now, early forties or maybe approaching forty, when he woke up one morning and tried to bring the bedroom ceiling into focus, found he wasn’t able to. I remember Mom hollering at him whenever he got done using his new eyeglasses upon which he depended, and threw them down on the table in such a way that they’d immediately understand how much he “appreciated” them. KLUNK. Yes, I imagine that must have been frustrating.
I know it was frustrating, because ever since I’ve hit forty he brings this up every now and then. “Have you woken up and had trouble bringing the ceiling into focus? It won’t be long now!”
But it is not happening the same way for me.
Every now and then I’ll have trouble with bringing something into focus, and I’ll wonder “maybe it’s finally time to go in?” But I’m not sure if it’s the Grim Reaper getting ready on my softening eyeballs, or if it’s just a piece of dust or crud getting in the way. So I look across the room at something else. And the focus is razor-sharp, so I “know” there’s no problem. Then I think, well maybe I’m getting farsighted? So I’ll look at something much closer. Again, there’s no problem. Everything is crystal clear. If I’m in a restaurant, maybe I’ll pick up a bottle of steak sauce or ketchup and start reading the ingredients. NO. PROBLEM.
However, we should save the date on this one: That fucking breakfast menu. It’s got something to do with the black letters on the blue background. Kinda like Green Lantern’s power ring doesn’t work on the color yellow. I believe this is the beginning of the end. I looked away from it, to other things, the paintings on the wall, the sugar packets, the silverware, the road signs outside the window, everything was clear except the dishes and the prices on the menu. I got this sickening double-vision effect going on every time I looked back at it.
If that is how I’m entering the age of dependence on visual assistance devices, this has actually been in the works for a long time. Perhaps it can continue a few years more before I have to go in and get fitted for something. In fact, if I make it that long, that’s extremely likely. And I can’t complain about that. Age fifty before I need something? That’s a good run.
Black on white, good and sharp. White on purple, red on black, green on black, brown on white, I can see like some punk kid one-third my age. But black on blue…no can do.
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