Then there's your Frank Herbert approach, where some big change seems to threaten everything, they fight it for a while, and then decide to embrace the change on their own terms. The unstoppable force is itself changed, alliances become fluid, and no one knows what will happen from now on.

Certain kinds of anxiety (like feeling that loved ones are displeased with me) go to my stomach as well. It will end in diarrhea if left unresolved. I envy my younger self not caring what other people thought.

I'm not feeling anything special, but I am branching out this week. Had a nice listen to Josephine Foster today. Also started listening to Sufjan Stevens from my spouse's collection. Aspects of it remind me of Belle and Sebastian, which is surprising because my spouse has always disliked B&S. Digging Crush Songs by…

If you visit folks in South America, remember not to flush your tp. It goes in the waste bin, which hopefully has a cover. You will learn to master the one-handed fold or you will get sick one way or another. Enough said. On a related note, if you see dogs outside in such places, stay away from them. Dogs go…

If you're saying there's nothing more punk rock than me not giving a shit, I'll take it.

If you're going to spend TG alone, I highly recommend doing it outside. Outdoor solitude can be peaceful and inclusive where indoor solitude would be lonely. Best TG dinner I ever ate was a loaf of bread, a block of Monterey Jack, and a salami, while sitting in my car way up a mountain in Colorado. Then I said good…

You forgot "dreading tomorrow".

There is also an excellent book about Crazy Horse by Mari Sandoz, which for some reason keeps ending up in the fiction section. I guess talking to old Lakota people about their history isn't considered scholarly.

I once accepted some kind of raspberry soda from my grandfather, and for the next 20 years he would say "we have your favorite soda!"

It hurts to think of him in Amado's empty seat at the the Academy of Letters. They should have given it to Chico Buarque.

She tried to get information from a German spy, who saw her inexperience and fed her something stale enough to cast suspicion on her. Now I can't find where I read that, so never mind.

I get a similar experience rereading Michael Moorcock, or at least the books of his that aren't unabashed pulp. Those are still fun though.

This is a great series. I'm a big admirer of Lessing's work in general, but these books were right up my alley. It's exciting to me in the same way that Calvino's Invisible Cities is exciting, to be looking at something from various angles to find ways of bypassing the filters of prejudice. There's much more to it…

Kinda looks like the Shrike.

Now that it's apparently the 80's again, I've been revisiting a lot of my old music, like False Prophets and U.P.S. Next up Negative Approach.

I think Alias Grace is next on my stack, and I'm looking forward to it. I read Blind Assassin last and now I'm having a Murakami palate-cleanser.

You should see what they get up to over in Santaroga.

Go ahead; I already quit buying movie tickets.

You reek-a!

Having to be told that the accents are bad on purpose is not a good sign.