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Not really, ma; Mary has her own teeth - Which is not unduly obvious, as I am about to explain
dronon
dronon
Not really, ma; Mary has her own teeth
Most of my friends know that the history of Piltdown Man is a hobby of mine, and Oh no, you're thinking before you finish reading this sentence, Do I really have to hear him go on about it again? Trust me, you have no cause for alarm. And don't worry if you have no idea what the heck I'm talking about.

Tangentially related to the history of Piltdown Man is a dentist - a tragic, almost fanatical character who intrigued me very much. I wanted to figure out why he behaved the way he did, and so I wrote a historical essay about him. If you've got some spare time, please read it and let me know what you think, or any other comments it brings to mind. My goal was to make the subject matter easy to understand for people totally unfamiliar with it, and hopefully to provide a good read at the same time.

And so, without further ado, teeth ahoy.

In Winnipeg, most of my social life takes place all day on Saturdays (except this one, of course), and the occasional movie night on weekdays. I also like to keep in touch with my friends outside the city via online chat. As I've discovered, online chatting stifles my creative output. If I want to be creative, I have to talk less online, and this makes me drift from my friends. I feel guilt over this. Not only because I'm an itinerant communicator to begin with, but also because I don't want to feel further away, or make someone else feel distanced.

On the other hand, if I don't try and be creative, I feel guilty about that too. So if I'm not chatting much, I'm trading one form of guilt for another - it's not a snub. This essay has taken me over two years to write, on and off. The reason I finished it now was because I was trying to get around writer's block on a story I've been promising someone else for even longer than that. Now it's a quarter of the way into the year already. Aieee!

Otherwise, things are dandy. At work, I'm cataloguing a whole bunch of Asterix and Achille Talon (Walter Melon) books. If only I had the chance to really read them! And I've got a melody stuck in my head, from "No, you can't take them" (mp3) by The Clouds.

And the LJ icon experiments go on!

Current Mood: accomplished

4 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
From: cjthomas Date: April 17th, 2004 09:12 pm (UTC) (Link)

Nifty biography.

A very interesting read =^.^=. I do hope that you publish all of this some day.

-Deuce
From: pobig Date: April 18th, 2004 01:50 am (UTC) (Link)
Marston sounds like quite a personality, with a nice, biting sense of humour, especially in the "notice of operation." It's too bad his scientific career, such as it was, was so unhappy, but it's an interesting illustration of the varying motives for research.

dronon From: dronon Date: April 18th, 2004 02:06 pm (UTC) (Link)
I agree on all counts. It makes me sad that this is all I know about him. He was obviously a man of some wit, stuck in very frustrating circumstances. His scientific career aside, there were much less unhappy sides to his life; he had a family and a long-standing dental practice. I wish there was a better way to bring that out than through his obituary, but it's all I had to go on.
niall_ From: niall_ Date: April 19th, 2004 09:20 am (UTC) (Link)
Astérix is a much, much easier read than Achille Talon; the latter will tax your French skills to the utmost, and remains completelly untranslatable, with exception of the general plot of the later full-album stories - and even then, they're the least of the reasons to read them. The puns, the social satire of 1960s and 1970s France and the visual gags are the main thrust of its enduring popularity.

Good luck. :)
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