Election Day

I awoke around five and voted. Ignoring common sense, I downed five double espressos upon my return home and was then awaiting immediate confirmation that progress had been made in this Republic. Alas NPR can only confirm what I already witnessed: record turnout.

I disagree with Clive James in his assessment that Jean-Paul Sartre is the devil. I now agree with Mr. James in his appraisal of the film Sophie Scholl: The Final Days. I was moved immensely by the film and then followed Robert Fisk's advice and began reading Irene Nemirovsky's Suite Francaise. It is not cutting literature but the back story haunts on nearly every page. That said, I am exhausted and still wired, much like too many trans-Atlantic flights when I know I need some sleep in effort to adjust.

I applaud Levi and Lena, Roger and Jeff, all those acting as stewards of democracy. My wife asked what kind of revolutionary I fashioned myself: I told her I'm not, I'm an aid worker.