a version with all the features I've listed

Hiya. Man, I'm rocking up the comments on Xanga and Blogspot lately. Thanks, everyone. Pleasure to meet you, Jordan.

First off: If you understand formal logic, but don't enjoy theology, please read the final few paragraphs of my last entry, in which I propose a fuzzy quantificational logic. Meagan asserts that it defies the very purpose of quantifiers; I'm interested in [2, inf)^th opinions.

Awesome things, mostly from Google Labs:

• Google Compute. Donate idle cycles to protein folding research.
• Google Deskbar. Easy access for quick research when not browsing the web.
• Google Earth. Just sickeningly cool. Fly down your home town's main street or over the Himalayas (elevation exaggeration of three recommended).
• Zion's Best 25 LDS Talks. "These talks, essays and articles are the most discussed documents in the Mormon Internet community."
• Post Secret. Another secret-posting site, but sent in by postcards, encouraging people to be concise and poignant. Beats Group Hug in quality, though not in quantity. Note: both have a fair number of sexual references.

So. Friday through Sunday. Friday, I went to see War of the Worlds with Cassian, which was enjoyable, though it's such a terrible plot. Like, WotW = Independence Day + Signs + pregnant Eowyn - coherence - compulsion. Fun previews, though. Stealth, Serenity, and The Island appear to be primarily concerned with YOUR EVERYTHING ASPLODE. I expect King Kong to wholly merit suspension--nay, outright abandonment--of disbelief. Likewise, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Hi, my name's Braden Anderson, and I spend as much time putting links in my entries as I do eating.

When I got home, I realized that I was missing Kevin and Lizzy's reception, so I shaved and threw on a suit just as Meagan from the ward called for a ride. Kevin and Lizzy were late, which I actually enjoyed; instead of having them stand the whole time as people shuffled through, we had everyone there to applaud as they came in. Kevin's old mission president told me I should do a service mission. They had this brilliant frothy lime punch. I'm glad to have gotten to know Kevin; he's a good guy, and it was darling how he lit up when Lizzy was around. I am also glad to only have one roommate.

I somehow turned dropping by the video store so Meagan could rent something into going to Batman Begins and Vermillion Skies. (Such that "somehow" means "via rampant awesomehood.") Both were marvelous; Batman's handily the best yet, and I discovered the joy of creamosas with vanilla and root beer syrups. Also, Meagan's kind of asfjklawesome. I mean, you can't beat discussing quantificational logic with an hot girl as you play Battleship at Vermillion Skies. I haven't taught her semiotics yet, but I did go over Gottman's findings, and she replied, "Hmmm, I think I'm both critical *and* defensive," with the most endearingly cheerful self-deprecation. She also laughed at corny jokes in the movie, and I must say, it's marvelous being around someone with the intelligence to be cynical and the good nature to surpress it. Wants to be a mom; failing that, a professor. Switching from philosophy to linguistics. I'm not set on her, because most girls are amazing on some level when you get to know them, but it sure would be nice.

Saturday, Uffish told me that probably I should go to her house, so I did. Novel did that MASH game for everyone (I totally won), and then we told jokes for a long time, watched fireworks, and watched Shaolin Soccer, courtesy of the ever-amiable Thirdmango. Funny movie. I slip into yellow almost as comfortably with Uffish as with Lizzy.

I was so ridiculously grumpy this morning between fasting, sleep deprivation, and no one sitting with me in Sacrament meeting or Sunday school. Like, hating everything that moved. However, between a nap and the panoply of pleasant comestibles and company at break the fast, that was alleviated rather quickly. Meagan, Scotty, the Chrises and I were there for about three hours, just chatting away. (Yeah, probably I should redo the glossary. (That syntax is really amusing to me; I swear I've never heard anyone other than Novel and Uffish use it.))

Liz did a good job conducting ward prayer, and an amazing job of letting people light her fireworks afterward. I'd been planning on noting in this entry that she was no longer a prospect, but she was very friendly with me, and like someone else on blue-beta, my interest is almost almost always the most attractive girl to have most recently talked to me. On top of that, she asked to learn more about Peircean semiotics, which obliterated any chance of rationally comparing her to Meagan.

Speaking of which, I feel like we're performing the same transformation with "intelligent" that C. S. Lewis objected to in "Christian." From Mere Christianity:

"People ask: 'Who are you, to lay down who is, and who is not a Christian?' or 'May not many a man who cannot believe these doctrines be far more truly a Christian, far closer to the spirit of Christ, than some who do?' Now this objection is in one sense very right, very charitable, very spritual, very sensitive. It has every available quality exept that of being useful. We simply cannot, without disaster, use language as these objectors want us to use it. I will try to make this clear by the history of another, and very much less important, word.

"The word gentleman originally meant something recognisable; one who had a coat of arms and some landed property. Whe you called someone 'a gentleman' you were not paying him a compliment, but merely stating a fact. ...A gentleman, once it has been spritualised and refined out of its old coarse, objective sense, means hardly more than a man whom the speaker likes. As a result, gentleman is now a useless word."

Before I took Liz out, I mentioned in passing that I wasn't expecting much in the way of conversation, what with her UVSC enrollment. Both times, I was chewed out quite vigourously, on the grounds that one can't expect a random UVSC student to be less intelligent than a random BYU student. Yes, it was a rather cynical comment. However, I can imagine no definition of intelligent by which this is an irrational assertion and in which we retain any useful sense of the word.

I think I've realized why Ben Folds' Songs for Silverman doesn't resonate with me: the lyrics almost universally claim victimhood. I recognize that many of his songs have been critical ("Steven's Last Night," "Zak and Sara," "Underground"), but they've generally such an upbeat, teasing tone; "Landed," "Give Judy My Notice," and "Trusted" all condescendingly condemn the individual considered, with an overall theme of "You were horrible to me, and I'm not going to put up with you any longer." Ick. There was a thread on blue-beta a few days ago entitled "Taking Offense," and it made me realize that I almost never resent people. I joke about hating Mrs. Snyder, but I'm pretty sure I never really cared; I sort those I know into two sharply distinct categories: those I respect and those I disdain, and I while I am quite unlikely to reverse my stance on the latter, I consider them merely the unfortunate bearers of intolerable personalities. (Okay, I can see why you think I'm purple, Ambrosia.)

Oh, and I've gotten access to the linguistics server. Yay, Peircean personality test.

In-depth reviews of the movies follow.
---SPOILER ALERT---

Yeah, *every* element from War of the Worlds was in either Signs or Independence Day. Seriously, listen to this summary. A single father grows up as he tries to protect his two children. Bizarre clouds billow over major cities. Weird holes in the ground. Massive machines use lasers to massacre citizens; protagonists barely escape ensuing explosions. The military is helpless. Individual aliens, slender but with triceratops heads, prowl for the family. They're split up. The weak spot is on the underside of the ship, when it opens up. The very substance of Earth kills the invaders. Oh, wait, the part about making the aliens bumbling louts wasn't in either. Nor the tentacle eye that can't see infrared, but *can* hear. Nor the completely implausible reunion. In its defense, the daughter did a wonderful yellow-purple oscillation.

I loved Batman, really. The bad guys in particular were excellent; I love the concept of the Scarecrow, and Qui-Gon as the hand at humanity's till is marvelous. A superhero moving to blue from purple as he learns compassion is a fantastic balance to Spiderman's greenness. Two objections. First, humans are mostly water. Microwave weaponry = effective. Second, right, losing the girl was necessary for continuity, but could you make it remotely plausible?

---END SPOILERS---