Another cold morning walk with Peretz, writing strange science fictional stories in my head. Cold planet, old TV, tactical simulations.
Selected the films for next dinner, Sunday after Thanksgiving, Nothing Sacred, Black Sunday.
Incessant curation, proliferation of images, small torrents of whimsy, not very adequate responses to perpetual war, but what is?
Thinking of smug characters obsessing over the sizes of their footprints, just more jackboots stepping on a face forever, even a dainty one isn't that nice.
Going to go do some work.