sex late in the afternoon when nasdaq has closed but not really because they want to

MORES. So are women lustful creatures men in the past had to protect themselves from? I don’t know, but reading the Raymond’s post got me thinking about the informal agreement between young men not to steal each other’s girlfriends (which I think it’s widely respected) that I don’t think it’s the case between young women. Or is it?

FRAGRANCES. She likes the days ending late, I like the fresh morning air. Since M. got old enough to go by himself to school, I ceased to go out early in the morning. Yesterday I did, and the unexpected pleasure I got from it reminded me how much I miss it.

SHARES. I’m in the stock exchange now; my first time. I got Apple and Telefonica, two firms I love, yeah. They’re going badly. They’re making me lose money. Big money by my standards.

YES, SIR. I learned from Matthew Hutson in his book that the view of the subjective mind ‘as a mere by-product of brain processes with no actual power to do anything’ is called epiphenomenalism. The results of some (disputed) psychological experiments show that subjects visibly react to an stimulus (by way of raising their hands, for example) way long after their brains decide to (as shown through brain imaging techniques). In some cases, researchers were able to predict with an amazing two seconds advance if the subject was going to raise his hand —and which hand, right or left, he was going to use. If epiphenomenalism were true, free will would be an illusion —the conscience would simply be a mechanism evolved in order to accommodate the inner doings of our brain. Say that your brain stem decides it’s high time you stopped studying those damned French conjugations and curl in the sofa in front of the TV: your conscience immediately starts looking for reasons to do so and to justify and comply with the unconscious decision.

Well, what I’m beginning to think it’s true is that anxiety —generic, pure, uncalled anxiety— comes first and only then we scramble to find motives to be anxious for. At the very least, that’s the way it goes for me.