on formally undecidable propositions
There is no way out. Either I wake up at 5 a.m. or 2 p.m., and there seems no way to predict which will happen. No Zeitgeber strong enough for me exists. I am as efficient as New Delhi's municipal government, yes yes.
Franzen read fine, and even though the audience questions were stupid and used words like "reify," he answered them with remarkable aplomb. We were going to try to interview him for Owl Farm, but by the end of the session we felt kind of sorry for him. Instead it's just a review of The Corrections, which I'll post over there sometime today, if I can summon the will to do anything. All I want to do is lie on the carpet amidst the two-day-old party debris and listen to Low. It's getting cold out there and, one way or another, I'm never awake for the sun.