The sunlight that we see

While strolling to the library to return a whole lot of books I saw a truly wondrous thing. Outside the chemistry building they were getting a shipment of nitrogen. That's liquid nitrogen, of course; the gaseous stuff just comes in whether you want it or not. It was delivered as much as possible like milk trucks of yore; a guy with a big truck plastered with warning signs was hanging out the open door, pouring into a small, barbecue-grill-gas-type canister, with the fog from the evaporating liquid nitrogen hitting tropic Singaporean air spreading out around it all. I don't know why I found this so funny, but I did, and you'll have to accept it.

Also in the construction work they've closed off one of the parking lots. There were still cars in it, though. I hope the cars were supposed to be there, or there's a second exit I don't know about. You just know, though, they snuck up on someone who doesn't know of the second exit and has somewhere to be an hour ago.

Trivia: To sit in the French Legislative Assembly as established in 1791 required paying a tax of about 52 livres. Source: A History of Modern France, Alfred Cobban.

Currently Reading: Chips off the Old Benchley, Robert Benchley. The audiences in this broad and fertile (it certainly is fertile, you can't deny that) land of ours, if all assembled in one large field, would average in a mentality test something approximating one-half of one per cent, or three grammes penny-weight, which is the standard set for the chipmunks before they can become squirrels.