Their biscuits would make you cry

My last two soups have not been winners. A few weeks ago I made an acorn squash soup with apples and caramelized onions - and doesn't that sound good? But it was sort of icky. And yesterday I made "Winter Pesto Soup" which had me suspicious from the beginning because basil is not a winter food, but I tried it anyway and it, too, is kind of odd. I blame the red potatoes - I left the skins on, and they're kind of biting, and the potatoes themselves have an odd, waxy quality. Very disappointing.

On Thursday I am leaving for Memphis for the Midsouth Philosophy Conference, where several of my colleagues (including Kari and the Werewolf) will be giving talks. I am not giving a talk, but I am going along for the ride because I have never been to Memphis or to a philosophy conference. The university gives us $300 a year to go to conferences, which is pretty sweet - I reckon it'll take care of gas and conference registration. As for lodging, we're staying at the home of a professor's parents, which will be nifty - I love seeing other people's houses. And Jonathan - the professor in question, who is from Memphis - has alluded to biscuits and gravy and other southern delicacies.

Oh, man, when I was in China I used to crave biscuits. My roommate, Bai Kunning, would wax rhapsodic over the biscuits at Popeye's - "Tamen de biscuits hui rang ni ku," she would say - "Their biscuits would make you cry."

In the meantime, I have to finish part one of Transcendence of the Ego, plus a bunch of soggy metaethics on lurve. The Metaethics of Lurve. Conceptual Analysis of Lurve. Stupid Frankfurt. And then I have to start my paper on perverse desires, which may actually be kind of fun. If I can ever actually start writing on it.