If I'm feeling frivolous, there is only one cure: Wodehouse. Well, I'm not that frivolous. I'll read John Donne. The only proper way to read John Donne is to shout it to the east. Batter my heart! I have a properly positioned peninsula. It just isn't the same if the east isn't also The Sea. Nietzsche, too [although Jeeves says he's "fundamentally unsound"]. I've been getting visceral pleasure from the first chapter of Beyond Good and Evil. Yes! Moliere!
Two girls this week thought I was Russian and should speak Russian. This is disconcerting, since I don't do any Russophile things around these girls. I talk about Estonian music with one [she's part Estonian and runs a classical music show on the radio and has never heard of Arvo Part!] and how we should run off to Alaska and get married with the other [Old Calendar girl, not the Russian one, she knows I'm not Russian].
The wonderful thing about learning history is that it frees you from a blind historicism and a slavish devotion to the present. Everything is more sensible. I'm not so good at the twiddling details of history, but even a good understanding of the big picture is liberating. I should have plundered that course in the history of science for all that it was worth, in retrospect. I learned so much that was of value, but I could have learned more. Moliere!
Perhaps I should learn Russian. If available young ladies think I ought to, I shouldn't disappoint them. It does come in handy in my circles.
Langston Hughes is a rockstar.
Oh my, all this typing, I think I'm being overstimulated...
Oh my! Though vs. although: when?
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