(no subject)

[malsperanza]

Sunny Septemberish weather in the 60s, and NYC in serene weekend mode.

Tore the house apart trying to find long-neglected vols. of lit theory. Truly, there is nothing dustier than unread books. Found them 2 rows back behind a shelf of poetry and a row of books about South America. Ran many errands, went to the local Cuban place & ate mofongo for lunch (yum) and read Mikhail Bakhtin on dialogism and the carnivaleque and made notes about slash, to my own amusement.

Bought a spigot. A rather nice, upscale, overpriced one with porcelain handles. Came home and managed to chip a great whacking chunk of enamel off the sink trying to remove the old spigot. Stared at mess. Abandoned task (will acknowledge incompetence in plumbing matters and ask super to do it). Abandoned Bakhtin (having carried out my own exercise in the carnivalesque in the kitchen).

Will reread Tristram Shandy instead. ("...Right glad I am, that I have begun the history of myself in the way I have done; and that I am able to go on tracing every thing in it, as Horace says, ab Ovo. Horace, I know, does not recommend this fashion altogether: But that gentleman is speaking only of an epic poem or a tragedy; -- (I forget which) -- besides, if it was not so, I should beg Mr. Horace's pardon; -- for in writing what I have set about, I shall confine myself neither to his rules, nor to any man's rules that ever lived...") Hee.

Because am still all broody and pissed off over a truly irritating roundtable lecture last night that I went to in the naive belief that I might learn something ("Cultural Heritage in War: Moral and Military Choices"). One speaker was utterly vile and hateful (Edward Luttwak,no surprise); one was snotty and presented a flabby and careless argument (David Rieff, who should know better), and one was wonderful (Zainab Bahrani, who was attacked ad hominem by the other two during the question period). Really, this is a staggeringly rightwing, racist country. It still surprises me. I wonder how the hell we get away with it.

Comments

[black-dog.livejournal.com]

Lucius was tired. The stories about Madam Minerva's taste in opera had not been exaggerated, but the payoff for his endurance was a jovial meeting with the Great Helmsman of Hogwarts himself. The elderly wizard was no fan of Lucius, but perhaps they could come to an understanding about humiliating the Dementors.

"There is great disorder under heaven," said Dumbledore with a twinkle, "and the situation is excellent! Have a chocolate-creme luttwak! Have two!" The talked turned to strategy, and to drawing the dementors more deeply into a certain unpromising regional adventure. "If we wish to make them lay it down, we must persuade them to bring it first," said the Headmaster, nodding. "How can one lay it down if he hasn't already brought it?" His laugh turned into a hacking cough that persisted for several minutes.

* * *

As the morning sun burned the fog off the rice paddies, only the steady luttwakluttwakluttwak of an Azkeban chopper broke the silence of the village. Suddenly there was a bright flash and the arc of a surface to air missle, and the cluster of rickety hooches exploded.

The chopper circled, and the Sergeant and Lieutenant peered out for signs of illicit military hardware. There were none. "We got the wrong guys," said the Sergeant. "Pretty wack, Lieut." The Lieutenant shrugged, and flicked a maggot from his scaly carcass. "Let's get back to base. I'm hungry for some hearts and minds, how about you?"

[malsperanza.livejournal.com]

"Pretty wack, Lieut."

You are pure evil.

*Hands black dog a box of chocolate-creme luttwaks*

*retreats to plot and scheme*

[black-dog.livejournal.com]

You are pure evil.

Says the person who came up with "Mobilize the Luttwakke!"

*Hands black dog a box of chocolate-creme luttwaks*

*Wolfs them down. Licks the box.*

*retreats to plot and scheme*

Bring it.