Originally Posted Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Spent Memorial Day memorializing how good I used to feel. I had to cancel hot dogs and hamburgers with my mother. I just felt lousy.
Whatever it was seems to have passed now. My body is not as achy. But my outlook for the future is not as rosy as it was in the hours before the exorcism. Back then, when I was immortal. . . .
"You cursed brat! Look what you've done! I'm melting, melting. What a world, what a world."
All my beautiful dreams and wickedness ruined by a little girl. . . .
But the long weekend has ended, and in moments I will be back toiling in the factory where circumstances are such that my workload has doubled. I haven't the energy for it. I haven't the mind. I wish only to lie about and read, both factory and studio forgotten. No more production. I want merely to consume what the good artists and writers and musicians of the world have been making for us. I want simply to consume what the world still has left to offer.
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Quote of the Day:
Since her first book, “The Morning After: Sex, Fear and Feminism,” was published in 1993, Katie Roiphe has been the professional gadfly of the women’s movement, checking what she perceives to be its excesses. She’s inveighed against rules forbidding sexual harassment, arguing that such strictures deny workers a “vivid office culture.” She’s found feminists guilty of inflicting upon readers a generation of flaccid male novelists too cowed and politically correct to live up to their rowdy predecessors. Her preoccupation with defending male sexuality recalls Rebecca West, whom Christopher Hitchens memorably described as “a superbly intelligent woman, whose feminism was above all concerned with the respect for, and the preservation of, true masculinity.”
(from article by ParulL Seghal, NYT.)
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