An Old Friend at the Frick

When I was a kid my parents used to set me loose on the streets of Paris, with coin for admission to various museums, and a croissant and some hot chocolate. And I almost always wound up spending at least a day at Les Invalides, the military museum.

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Now I Get It!

In a past thread, someone commented about topologists not knowing the difference between a donut and a coffee cup.

I forwarded that to a friend of mine who’s a recovering topologist, who said “of course we can tell the difference: coffee stays in a cup and leaves a donut.”

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The Weird Sense of Deja Vu

My dad says it’s something that happens naturally after you’ve worked in a field long enough: you start to feel like you’re looping back and forth on yourself. He used to say he’d find himself going to American Historical Association meetings as an “emeritus professor” that he had gone to as a newly-minted professor: some things had changed, some things hadn’t, so the changes and the gaps in the change were what really jumped out.

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