Why this picture? I guess because I'm reading Blood Meridian, which got me thinking about The Wild Bunch which made me think of Bring Me The Head of Charlie Brown.
Whatever.
I'm just putting something up out of a very, very strange sense of obligation and boredom. I have nothing to say right now.
Sopranos is still awesome. I love that Phil is about to go to the mattresses (I really, really hope they use that phrase next week). Only seven more episodes though, which makes me sad. 24 should be good tomorrow. Or, to put it another way, it needs to be good, since they are turning the plot of the whole season around- no more Fayed, no more nukes, just the ghosts of stuff that happened before I began watching the show. I guess Keifer's dad will be back soon.
I finally got caught up on this season's South Park. So far- eh. Some really funny moments, but no episode so far has been one of the truly great South Park episodes. I don't know that the show is completely out of ideas, but there hasn't been an episode- or even one joke- that really got people talking. Or at least I think that's the case. I'm so far out of the fucking loop at this point I can't even tell.
I thought last week was stressful with the two papers- those were papers I more or less enjoyed- the next two papers, one on a poet I don't particularily care about (I don't know which of the poets from class I'm writing about, but only one of the options wrote stuff that really impressed me- at least I think he's a potential topic. You don't care anyway, you self-centered, glorious nonexistant bastards) The other paper is another Nabokov paper, which could be fun. But it's not the papers per se which are going to suck. It's that my magnificent employers, the NCSU Friends of the Library, (peace be upon them) have scheduled the annual used book sale for the weekend before exams (and when the papers are both due). I'm pretty certain this is later than when it was in the past, but I'm not positive. At any rate, this will be the first year I'll experience the book sale from the other side of the tent (a phrase that might sound like it makes sense until the most rudimentary amount of thought is applied to it) and while I'm mostly looking forward to it (I've put a whole hell of a lot of time in organzing these books) I'm worried about how I'm going to manage the time-managing tight-rope of that much crazy (probably) plus the school crazy.
Anyway.
I did re-read Vonnegut's last novel, Timequake, over the weekend. It had even less of a plot than I remembered it having. I remembered a lot of asides, but I didn't remember that it was almost entirely asides and jokes, with the "plot" only referred to every ten or fifteen pages. Not his worst book (Deadeye Dick comes immediately to mind as a candidate for his worst novel, as does Jailbird, but it's been five or six or seven years since I've read those) but by that point in his career, it was kind of like a shadow of his truly great work. I'm definitely going to re-read Slaughterhouse 5 and Cat's Cradle pretty soon.
I have to re-read those soon because of the massive literary undertaking I have planned for this summer- The complete novels of Thomas Pynchon plus I have to re-read the first six Harry Potter books in anticipation of Deathly Hollows (Hallows?)
Christ, I'm such a nerd.
Shit. Nearly one a.m. and I should probably try and sleep.
If I don't wake up I expect each and every one of you readers to avenge my death.
Oh, and yes, the title is another Dylan reference. It's all part of a masterplan, so don't worry.
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