And so begins what my future biographers (if everyone else dies and there is no one else left about whom to write biographies) will label "the lost year."
Socrates chose death rather than exile from Athens. I liked Bowling Green well enough, but I'm still choosing exile in Toledo over hemlock. (For now.)
I'll try to think positively. My Itty Bitty Booklight and I will accomplish great things in the next year!
In other news, let me say that I am extremely heartened by the degree of press coverage given to Ingmar Bergman recently. More specifically, I'm (pleasantly) surprised that so many people know -- and care -- who he is. (And, yes, I deliberately used the present tense "is.") A lot of people seem genuinely saddened by the loss. It is no wonder: Bergman's films cleanse and refresh the soul.
Antonioni, I don't care for so much.
Back to the real world, 2007-style: This pleases me. However, what the Thai authorities fail to realize is that there is an easy counter-measure to the shame-producing armbands. The shame could easily be neutralized if the officers were to wear Underoos under their uniforms. All life's problems are less weighty if one is wearing Batman underwear.
Take it from me.
1 comment:
I'm sad to see Hello Kitty employed for embarassment. When I was in Taiwan, my friend's 80-year-old grandpa wore Hello Kitty flip-flops everywhere, including the Chiang Kai-Shek palace and the local whiskey hole.
Post a Comment