And Watched the Day Go Down in Fire

Francis Bacon:
One of the most influential minds of the late 16th century. A statesman, a philosopher, a writer, and a scientist, he was even rumored to have written some of Shakespeare's plays.
How he died: Stuffing snow into a chicken
One afternoon in 1625, Bacon was watching a snowstorm and was struck by the wondrous notion that maybe snow could be used to preserve meat in the same way that salt was used. Determined to find out, he purchased a chicken from a nearby village, killed it, and then, standing outside in the snow, attempted to stuff the chicken full of snow to freeze it. The chicken never froze, but Bacon did.

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Today I had two cups of chai tea - one hot and one iced. I went absolutely nowhere, and did absolutely nothing productive except a little brainstorming. I read. I nothinged. I watched flashing images on screens.

It was all quite utterly blissful.

If a little unsatisfying.

It's true. I needed a break - I enjoyed my break. But really, there's nothing soul-satisfying in doing... nothing. You need it sometimes, but not all the time. And I think I'm at peace with that.

Peace out, y'all.

-Mackenzie