I have read that there are large dead zones in the world's oceans -- places where accumulations of plastic and other inert garbage have virtually killed off life, so that pretty much nothing grows there, from microorganisms to large schools of fish. That is how I have always experienced the week between Christmas and New Year 's Day -- a spiritual, intellectual, cultural dead zone. When I was young, this time was filled by the Eastern Division meetings of the American Philosophical Association, but I am afraid those meetings have taken on something of the character of dead zones too.
What to do? I have binge watched the first season of Mozart in the Jungle on my Amazon Prime, but the second season is not available until tomorrow. I have completed my preparations for the first lecture in the Ideological Critique series, but I want to wear a sweater on camera, so I am waiting until it gets cold enough to start filming. I have analyzed Donald Trump's chances of winning the Republican nomination in more detail than any sane person could possibly desire. If I had enough socks, I would arrange my sock drawer.
Is there anyone out there with an unanswered question? Like Gorgias in the Dialogue of the same name, I am in itinerant wise man who claims to be able to talk on any subject the audience may demand.