Last night, our time, the U.S. vice presidential candidates tried to put each other down in front of TV cameras in the gym I frequented last winter. Now that the place was filled with dark suits (allegedly containing bodies) instead of sweaty bodies with balls (and weights and rackets and flying feet and endorphine and an air of sportsmanship), I wish I'd been there in the audience with a few racquetballs in my pocket. Believe it or not, for an ex distance runner who does academic work, my throwing accuracy is generally phenomenal. I would have had several worthy targets.

One of the few notes I made in yesterday's seminar: "Self-consciousness destroys the possibility of aesthetic grace". This was the speaker's paraphrase of Paul de Man, who borrowed the idea from Schiller. I'm no longer certain of the analytical context, but it is a nice idea to generalise on and probably true especially as applied to human bodies in motion, even off the dance floor. At least male bodies.
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