I don't know what the wisest course is to pursue, here, with Russia and the Ukraine, but I am pretty certain that Obama's tack is not it.
* * *
The science is settled! Salt is bad for you! No, wait! It's not! Or, wait! More than six grams per day of sodium is bad, but less than three grams per day is also bad!
It's almost as if the dose makes the poison or something.
Look: sodium and chlorine are both used by the body as ion channels, the charge carriers that let nerves do their thing. You need salt; sodium chloride is an electrolyte and you imperil your life if you cut it out of your diet. The body can scavenge whatever it needs from what you eat, but there's a reason that salt tastes good to us; it's the same reason you can toss a block of salt out in the woods and attract deer (and other animals).
...six grams is a lot of salt.
* * *
I had a bunch of tabs open on the militarization of American police, and I closed them all. I just don't know what I can say about the issue.
* * *
As for my tooth, I got it glued back together today. The news wasn't as good as I'd hoped, but it wasn't as bad as I'd feared, and I'll take it.
The crown separated from the tooth because part of the tooth gave way. I had hoped that the cement had simply failed and that the crown could be cemented back in place, without any extra work, but in the days running up to today I had feared that the tooth had come apart under the crown, or something, and the whole thing would have to come out.
The dentist looked things over and told me what had happened, then decided that we'd try simply cementing the crown back in, first. If that works, great. If the thing comes loose again, though, then he said he'll have to do some more work on the underlying tooth to get the crown to remain in place. On the plus side, he thinks that if he does have to do that, we can still use the same crown, which would save me approximately $600.
I got out of there for $132 (one x-ray and the glue job) and was glad for it. That didn't keep me from cracking a joke: "And now for the most painful part of the visit," I said to the receptionist.
Funny thing: I didn't get any gas or anasthetic--there was no need for it--but while he was working I started feeling as if I were snorting nitrous. I lost track of my hands, and the music on the radio started to sound funny, and I was floating.
What the hell was that? A psychosomatic reaction? Conditioned reflex? It's like I got high on nitrous because my brain expected there to be nitrous: someone's shoving tools into the mouth, and that's always accompanied with laughing gas, so we might as well get the party started!
Weird.
* * *
Mrs. Fungus and I spent some time looking over on-line ads for computers, and we ended up ordering an Asus M51AC just like Floristica. It will take a little longer to get here than if we went out and bought one, but it's exactly what she wanted, and we don't have to chase all over creation to find it.
Today is a ridiculously nice day, too...perfect for running a few errands on the motorcycle, which I have been itching to ride since getting the new chain on.
The low temperature last night was 47°--in August!--and when I got up this morning it was 66° inside the bunker. WTF, global warming?
