I would go out tonight. but I haven't got a stitch to wear

The week has unfolded  to witness my surviving an acute sinus meltdown and then proceed through the remainder of my holiday with nary a complaint. I read Personal days by Ed Park on Monday and it enjoyed it, which translates into I really liked the final third of the novel. the preceding elements struck me as a collection of workplace aphorisms, mourning the death of irony and grimly oblivious to what constitutes actual labor.
You know,I love Great McGinity. I know that Sturges made better films, Sullivan's Travels and The Lady Eve, but there is something visceral and eternal about that fable. I am looking forward to the new Regina Spektor album. If you haven't noticed, I am trying to distract myself from summer away from soccer.
The China Mieville revolution continues. I am nearly finished with my third novel of his this month and will likely read three more. That said, I find the speculative bend growing weedy. Joel has proffered hope on the samizdat front and lends purpose to things. For those interested in art films on horrible situations, we have seen a pair of French films detailing the troubles in Africa: White Material and Johnny Mad Dog are both incredible films but exact quite a price form the viewer.