evolve
I have decided that my snowball's-chance-in-hell applications for postgraduate fellowships will be more fun if I stage them as Pokémon battles. Sutegana, I choose you! Madisu-mon, I choose you! Mishana, I choose you!
Colgate or Provincetown... hmm. Not sure. That's awful far away to move for seven months.
So, Jean-Pierre Jeunet's Amélie is stateside, and I want to like it, but the review worries me. Though it won't get to Iowa until February anyway, assuming it gets here at all.
My Weariness of Epic Proportions
I like it when
Achilles
Gets killed
And even his buddy Patroclus—
And that hothead Hector—
And the whole Greek and Trojan
Jeunesse doree
Is more or less
Expertly slaughtered
So there's finally
Peace and quiet
(The gods having momentarily
Shut up)
One can hear
A bird sing
And a daughter ask her mother
Whether she can go to the well
And of course she can
By that lovely little path
That winds through
The olive orchard
—Charles Simic
