Like so many asshole academics, I often start an email with something like:
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you …
followed by some description of what’s going on in my own life/work swirl, as if this is so pertinent to waste a line of text and the moment of comprehension and empathy it may or may not invoke.
When I’m on the train writing an email, the second line of my message is often
I’m actually writing this email from the train!
as if this is such a marvel. We don’t have flying cars, but I can sit on a piece of technology whose heyday was in the 19th century, utilizing a communication system of the modern era. So, I suppose it is just such a marvel. An 80-mile-an-hour train allowing me to launch my emotions into space at the speed of light, hoping the encryption and meaning is relayed to some other destination that’s fading into the horizon’s converging tracks behind me.
I’m actually composing this blog entry from the train.
The Zeroth Draft 