After many a summer...

Dies the Swan, was good. The more Huxley i read the more i want out. "Out of what?", i hear you ask. Out of it. Altogether now, "Against the modern world!"

I've been worrying for months about finally having to crack open the Orwell letters and yet there always seems to be something left in the bottom of the barrel. This time a book on bullfighting. I'd started reading it before (apparently while in California; the bookmark was a receipt from pho saigon in Saratoga) but got distracted - probably by travelling. It's a good read, a little blood thirsty but no where near as bad as my last encounter with such subject matter.

Also in the barrel, right down at the bottom, is Glamorama. The Orwell letters look inviting compared to that. I'd rather chew off my own leg. Ah, to be that flexible...

So, that was my weekend. It was cold, i was tired. What?!