Here's an archaic piece of trivia: in 1936, "Gone with the Wind" (the book, not the movie) beat out Faulkner's "Absalom, Absalom" for the Pulitzer Prize. Way to go, Georgia: I'll bet Mammy cheered for that one.

In other news, I wrote two new paragraphs today. I, too, am slouching towards Bethlehem.

On my Ipod: Lang Lang
In the fridge: Haagen Daaz mint ice cream

Slate on the Down Low

http://www.slate.com/id/2161452/fr/flyout

Ah, Slate. The ability to package white American racism with suitable snarkiness is something every major news organ should aspire to.

To do this weekend: Redo everything I did last week.... I had a terrible moment today - after hours of photocopying, I finally got home and started rereading earlier sources, and going back over the Franey I stumbled over a key point that I had thought was mine -- an off-hand comment I read months ago, underlined, and apparantly burned into my psyche. I hadn't even realized I'd gotten it from her.

The good news is that the paper's taken a fairly interesting turn, and I may not need the passage after all. This argument about bodies lacking aggressors (industrialization + systemic violence = weirdly passive victims) -- I think there may be something to it. I've spent all week reading about free trade policy, trying to figure out where E.D. Morel diverges from Kingsley and why concessions are different from crown colonies, and what resources were being drawn from what colonies (yes they pay me to do this). I just finished my note cards, and tomorrow I think I can start writing again.

Music on the Ipod: Glenn Gould
In the DVD player: NOTHING! Just books, and more books.
Wishful thinking: Can't wait for April...

I finally managed to drag myself off the couch and out of Morningside Heights, and man, was it worth it! Josh and I went to see "Zodiac" - a movie that validates all of those creepy afternoons sitting alone in my first-floor apartment and scaring myself silly on Crime.net. What an amazing film -- I can't get it out of my head.

Best scene: Robert Downey Jr. playing Pong in his shipboard apartment, hacked out, legs crossed, bathobe open in a single shaft of light. Yes, Robert: You too could be a psychopathic serial killer.

This guy is amazing!

Seventeen pages - still no argument

I'm fighting it out with old JC again tonight, and so far he's winning - I've read and reread these passages a hundred times, and still can't this section straight! I'd forgotten how tough this part of it is -- the part where you've launched off a great proposal, only to hit a big fat wall with the research.

Today was the last straw for my laptop. The "O" key fell off six months ago; today the rubber tip came unglued (the piece that depresses the sensor). Given my predilection for vowels, it might be time to brave the Apple Store again.


In my CD player: Electro-folk mix, sans guitar (thanks Sarah!)
In my freezer: Empty container of ice cream; three bags of frozen fruit
Last DVD played: Arrested Development