Although You Could Not Speak You Were Not Lost?

• Self-portrait, 2019 November 2, bigger at other place
• Changed my twitter avatar, gotta start deKaos somewhere
• I think I mentioned this last Koppel birthday, I couldn't sit through five minutes of a Get Smart episode (or a five minute episode of *anything,* including my new avatar's television show)
• UPDATE! Avatar now set, finally found the Fleabus photo I thought I farted away
• I can't imagine reading Roth or Updike now 
• I can imagine reading Kolář’'s User's Manual, and it came in the mail two days ago

• Four ways falling back from daylight's savings time can kill you
• California, third world state
• Avedon's occasional links
• Impeachment theater, or, they *do* want Trump to win
• I stopped at art supply store in downtown Bethesda yesterday, on Woodmont near Bethesda Ave a car with flashers on waiting for a parallel parking slot to open held up traffic while the person leaving the spot stood outside his car talking on his phone, backed up traffic twenty cars deep on Woodmont, everyone honking and cursing, and this is music to our sociopath overlords, their drones acting in concert per direction
• Things are only going to get weirder
• Work sucks 
• Maggie's weekly links
• { feuilleton }'s weekly links
• Love versus Frankenstein
• UPDATE! on Charles Wright
• More new Richard Dawson

   
            

AFTERNOONS AND EARLY EVENINGS

Louise Glück

The beautiful golden days when you were soon to be dying
but could still enter into random conversations with strangers,
random but also deliberate, so impressions of the world
were still forming and changing you,
and the city was at its most radiant, uncrowded in summer
though by then everything was happening more slowly—
boutiques, restaurants, a little wine shop with a striped awning,
once a cat was sleeping in the doorway;
it was cool there, in the shadows, and I thought
I would like to sleep like that again, to have in my mind
not one thought. And later we would eat polpo and saganaki,
the waiter cutting leaves of oregano into a saucer of oil—
What was it, six o’clock? So when we left it was still light
and everything could be seen for what it was,
and then you got in the car—
where did you go next, after those days,
where although you could not speak you were not lost?