“The Steak Place” by The Fall caused me to dream of a steak substitute brand-named Pleasant Pleak. It was indeed pleasant; I think it was breaded.
I’ve been working out the love affair with Barbara Stanwyck that I should have begun as a younger man. Yesterday I watched Double Indemnity on my laptop while hanging out with some cats, in Oakland, where I have been cat-sitting. I split this up with all my note-taking on Henry James, which was getting to such an unmanageable point that I had to write—well, it isn’t really a “program,” but an HTML document with a bunch of JavaScript to keep it all organized.
The long-term projects are fighting each other for space and the novel got shunted into my parietal lobe, where it is humming. I haven’t had anything to show for a while. Each thing rides its own very long conveyor belt. When at last they reach the end, they will fall clear out of the factory, and I hope that someone will then take pity and put them to bed.
