Half-Slept Nights

One of those half-slept nights. Since I had the big room for the evening and the cats were going to stay in for the night, I decided to sleep in the big room with them. I sometimes sleep well on this rickety bed, but this was not one of those nights.

The Natural World

Snow Monkey Catching Snowflakes by Mark Dumont on Flickr.

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Reading Life

I didn't feel up to picking up the Pentateuch this morning. So, why should I force myself to read it? It's not like I have an obligation to be a good Jew, nor a good Christian for that matter. This is not to say that I am going to take it off my reading rotation. I know I will feel the urge to read the Bible again sometime. But I am skipping it this round. Maybe the next round, too. Orwell's essays are next on my list, and I am all too happy to get it from my shelves.

Half-Lived Days

I am reminded that half-slept nights lead to half-lived days. I am in zombie mode, and I think I am just going to roll with it and stumble dazedly through the day. I'll see if I can slip into a good, curative nap, but that is always more miss than hit.

How Fiction Works

I gave James Wood’s “How Fiction Works” a shot. In my youth, I would read such a book in the hopes that it might help to turn me into a writer. These days, I will read such a book to enrich my reading life. In Wood’s discussion on the authorial voice, how it needs to be a subtle voice, the voice of all without seeming heavy-handed and intrusive, we have this quotation from Flaubert.

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“An author in his work must be like God in the universe, present everywhere and visible nowhere…. Art being a second nature, the creator of that nature must operate with analogous procedures: let there be felt in every atom, every aspect, a hidden, infinite impassivity. The effect on the spectator must be a kind of amazement. How did it all come about!”

-- Gustave Flaubert, 1852

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That Smell

What is that smell? Is it me? I think it's my jacket. It smells greasy and meaty. I may have worn it when I made my hamburger for lunch. It has been a while since I washed it. But I don't really want to, not yet. Maybe the scent will wear away.

Porn

Pop has left for his rounds. This would be an ideal time for my "Roughies" DVDs to be dropped off. I was skeptical that they would make it in today, since I just ordered them on Tuesday afternoon. Though, Amazon did quasi-promise to have them here today. Meanwhile, I have reverted back to my old Bay Horse days, in which I would anxiously await the the UPS van, rushing to the window whenever I hear some heavy gears shifting.

George Will

George Will has made the move to Fox News, leaving ABC behind. He is 72 years old, though he still seems to have his wits about him, or at least a good portion of them. He has become more libertarian and runs with Tea Party politics. So, maybe there has been a little come-down. At least he is still an atheist. If he became a 'born again' Christian, we could probably assume that he has taken at least a couple of steps into the darkness of senility.

[The New Republic]

Sausages

I somehow picked up some sausage links rather than the sausage patties at the commissary. It's not a big deal. It is pretty much the same thing, I am sure. Maybe it is even easier to use the links when making them for tortilla wraps, sauced up in mustard. Unlike the patties, I may not need to cut them up to fit. But I know I settled this debate before: links vs. patties. Although I cannot remember, I must have chosen the patties for a reason. I suppose this will give me the opportunity to refresh my memory.