I betray others; others betray me. The cock crows three times and I’m Christ and Peter both. And so are you, so are you.
I realized the other day that my worst weakness is my hatred of weakness, in myself and others. What to do?
realitylost is a kind of saint because she gives me Half a Food, often. Thanks Susie.
My dreams lately are full of the worst emotional experiences: beloved family members despising me and openly deriding me, deadly diseases, terrible mistakes, friends in great distress. Sleep was never so stressful. But then, you know, the rest of the day is somewhat similar if less ornately horrible.
I have added yet another medical professional to my life; I have become interesting, it seems.
After these warm sunny days lately the fog rushes in like an angry linebacker and the temperature drops 30 degrees and everyone is surprised, although this happens every year.
Tonight on the patio I was in the middle of a gaggle of teens and 20somethings, nice enough kids mostly. I remember despising most of them a while back, but there’s a big difference between 17 and 20.
My irrational self – you know, the one that’s in charge – believes that I am cursed for life to offer myself to those who don’t want me.
Read any good books lately?
Be My Blog 
Any good book
Last night I dreamt I found a book with the weird binding of my 1890’s Latin grammar book, because it was “really old” (its publication date was 1960!). The book’s title was on the front in a weird fraktur-like font, and was something like “ELEKTRIKAL-ANALYSZYZ”. The content was bizarre formal-semantics-like stuff, typeset in a font that was very 1890’s too. One section was remarkable for having presciently come up with a standard nearly identical to URLs. It was a pretty good book!
Only other thing of interest in the dream was that someone in it coined the word “sminge” to mean something like a sort of pained smile.
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Sort of
Dead Girls, by Richard Calder. It appeals more to the 15-year-old boy in me than me proper, and I think you might appreciate more than anyone else what I mean.
By the way, that’s the one with Ignatz Zwakh in it.
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Invitation to a Beheading by Nabakov is rocking my world right now. I’ve raved about it before, but Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi is an amazing blend of lit crit, social criticism and novel. Everyone should read it. All the other stuff I’ve been reading has exciting names like 510 U.S. 7 or 1003 F.3d 243 with authors like Rehnquist or O’Connor or Posner. Don’t suggest those.
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Currently reading Ortona by Mark Zuehlke (try spelling that without the book right beside you). It’s an account of the battle for the Italian port city of Ortona, which pitted several Canadian regiments against some raged German late-war conscripts and, unexpectedly, a top-notch Panzer Grenadier unit and an elite paratroop unit. Fighting endured through Christmas and resulted in a dinner that is still an annual tradition in the involved regiments that remain — a Christmas dinner where the officers serve the enlisted men.
It’s a remarkably good account — both compelling reading and stellar research. The preface ends with a plea for anyone who is related to a living World War II veteran to please please please get their accounts on paper or tape or something. 50 years later, there are fewer and fewer eye witnesses, making history harder and harder to write well.
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