Wary of Stirring

Everytime I type now I must confront the image of Jean-Luc Godard hunched over his typewriter, delicately manipulating the cigar in his mouth, and pecking away at the keys with two fingers. I have watched four hours of Godard's Historie(s) Du Cinema and impoversihed in my desire to depic this truly overwhelming work, a meditation on the history of cinema. It is rife with chieseled lines like, cinema was a factory of dreams and communism wore itself out by dreaming of such factories...of course, there was Howard Hughes.

Yes, that is one sentence.

N went ahead and bought whole set for me, so I will be returning the rental to Wild and Wooly tomorrow. It has been a long day of political pondering. I am near the end of the Remnick. I do enjoy it but hastily suggest some editing here-and-there. I became aware today of an author for young adults named Sutcliff today. She wrote largely of Roman outposts on the British Isles and the haggard transition to Saxon soverignty. I am tempted to stop by the library tomorrow. I also need to explore these Central American meditations.

Oh, and fuck Sarkozy!