“We can be as honest as we are ignorant. If we are, when asked what is beyond the horizon of the known, we must say that we do not know.”

– Robert G. Ingersoll

To some, the commonest interpretation of Agnosticism places it somewhere between Atheism and various types of Theism, of which Judaeo-Christian sects, again, comprise the primary cognitive focus. But it is this very misinterpretation within the traditional lexicon which corrupts the original and intended meaning to merely represent a weaker branch of Atheism. In truth, Agnosticism is merely an honest statement of ignorance, and in its strongest forms, an adamant refusal to arrogantly claim knowledge where it is otherwise unavailable. In part, it’s the predominance of Atheism and Christianity which marginalizes an agnostic stance, even when they’re mutually compatible concepts. This unfortunate tendency of individuals to uncritically accept incomplete lore cheapens all belief systems into being nothing but proximal cognition by inheritance.

Well, after my MRI on Monday, I resigned myself to a waiting game while the radiologist perused the incomprehensible slices of my foot before distilling them into a written report for my esteemed podiatrist. Today, I ventured once more to my Podiatrist’s office to receive, hopefully, good news. Sadly I, like a horny teenager trapped in an nudist colony composed entirely of ponderously obese men, was destined for frustration and disappointment. I’d gone prepared to hear two kinds of diagnosis: that I mysteriously acquired a bad sprain, or that I’d horribly disfigured the contents of the fleshy attachment at the end of my leg and needed surgery.

My right foot is a piece of garbage. No, really. Since my teens, every once in a while, through some mysterious transformation enacted, doubtlessly, by clamoring minions of the underworld, becomes an agony generator equaled only by the presence of my Ex. But even I admit that, after years of DDR stomping, years more of wearing Nike Frees to strengthen various muscles, evidence might indicate healing or time or even luck had rendered that particular foot “normal.” Really, I should have realized: it was merely, like a bird waiting over your favorite parking spot, biding its time.

Jen, a more avid Facebook advocate than I, posted my malaise yesterday, so I figured it only fair I provide a more thorough explanation as to what actually happened Saturday and Sunday. What am I alluding to, you ask? This weekend, I spent Saturday and most of Sunday at Naperville’s illustrious Edward hospital, and this time, it wasn’t because of my heart!

I haven’t spoken much about the Samsung NC10 I bought to accompany me on the train. Out of all the netbooks, I chose this one because it was one of the thinner, lighter models, I adore the keyboard, and with the Amazon exclusive, came with a bigger battery and slightly enlarged trackpad. Of course, Samsung immediately announced two or three new netbooks, one of which replaces the NC10 and has basically the same enhancements as mine, plus a redesign. Ah well, with the way netbooks have gained recent popularity, this was bound to happen, and actually make me look forward to the next few years.