Sympathy for the cockroach.

BTW this is a cover. The Rolling Stones came up with the original version of the song.

I feel an immense sense of guilt every time I kill a cockroach. That’s because I don’t like the idea of killing another living being.

But with cockroaches, I decided a long time ago that:

  • even though these buggers have been around a long, long year,
  • and will continue to be around for many a long year to come,

between me and them, I’ll be damned if I let them win while I’m still alive.

Damn you, cockroaches. Damn you, he thought to himself as he imagined himself shaking his fist in a display of defiance at arthropods that were lurking around, somewhere.

Cognitive processes toward the addition of friends on Facebook.

Or: Why I have stopped adding people I know as friends on Facebook.

  1. Hey, many updates in my ‘Live Feed’!
  2. Hey, that’s a funny comment on someone’s status message/picture/video/etc!
  3. Hey, that name/face sounds/looks familiar!
  4. Hey, it’s a person I know/used to know!
  5. Hey, let’s add that person as a friend!
  6. Hey, perhaps I should ‘Add a personal message’ to let the person know who I am in case she/he has forgotten me!
  7. Hey, perhaps I should let said person know how I found her/his profile in case she/he thinks I actively went to search for her/him!
  8. Hey… The message looks over-explained, over-apologetic and hence, extremely creepy.
  9. Hey, er… Delete.

I don’t add students either, though I approve friend requests from students. But that’s another story for another time.

Self-censorship.

I spend more time deleting what it is I don’t want to say, as opposed to writing what it is I actually want to say.

Perhaps it’s symptomatic of age. More likely it is because I am too afraid to name the beast.