Bleh.

Dreamed about Dragon*Con, last night, and the need to get tickets, before they becomme prohibitively expensive.

Which is true. But not exactly... Well, i don't know. The reminder Was important.

Other parts of the dream involved sleeping arrangements in large rooms, and the running of the hotel. It was oddly proprietary.

Meh.

Now that is interesting...

Link from wacko1138: The Fifties Housewives Tarot Deck. For the prediction of "casseroles, aprons, and A-bombs."

Brilliant.

One of those days...

I'm having one of those days, where you realise that even though it feels likeit, you're not the first person to read and really appreciate an author. It feels like it, because I have to wonder why no one ever said to me "Damien, you fucking need to read Borges. It's amazing stuff, and I think you'll like it." Because that's all I need, you know? Just a nudge, no presumptions about the specifics of my tastes, but a gentle nod that you know what they are, and that there is something... Well. Anyway.

The more i read of and about Jorge Luis Borges, the more I have to wonder why I was not reading Jorge Luis Borges, a very long time ago.

'Every writer creates his own precursors. His work modifies our conception of the past, as it will modify the future.'

You want an endorsement that speaks to more than just my proclivities, my tastes? Mark Z. Danielewski, in writing House of Leaves, created a precursor in Jorge Luis Borges, as well as many others, obviously, but most clearly Borges. The innvented works, and historical tone, standing right along side real texts and a conversational mode, like you were sitting in a pub, together, recounting old times. Footnotes, some real, some imagined. Things you think are important, which aren't, and then, later, are, more than you would have imagined.

Or maybe that's just me, again.