a poem for today, 2 January 2012
[a letter sort sonnet in four sentences with its image]
The hardest thing for me to do is accept that my body doesn't do things the way I think it should.
While I'm on the topic of organization let me say that I'm trying to get my mind sorted out too.
This is just the latest in a whole raft of research showing how we can be manipulated into believing that we have control over chance outcomes, simply by presenting information differently, or giving cues which imply that skill had a role to play.
It's like one of those commercials where the sad lady gets happy pills and takes up tennis again.
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