Yes, We Recycle!: Photo of the Day #14

Hårdbröd (Lost in the Supermarket): Photo of the Day #13

Duck Watching: Photo of the Day #12

Took a solitary stroll today. Ira was good and stayed home working on her disseration. I shot the photo of the ducks at the same location where the man was fishing the other day (7 Jan 2006). It's warmed up a bit since then. The photo of me is a self-portrait, obviously. It turned out well, I think. The grey in the goatee is just a trick of the golden light.

Dave Sez: If You're Talkin' Shit, I'll Have to Put the Smack Down

SuperJim writes in an e-mail: Did you see Letterman skewering Bill O'Reilly on his show last week? Go to the Video Dog section of Salon for the best-edited clip I've seen. O'Reilly's voice actually cracked because he was so intimidated. I mean, Letterman is such a pro broadcaster, I'm sure O'Reilly looks up to the guy. And Letterman was so brilliant in his measured and funny and reasoned interview. Ah he's terrific.

As the wing-nuts repeat in response to the other obnoxious right-wing hypocrite polluting America's airwaves with stupid lies and misinformation: Ditto.

Welcome to My World (The World as Text/The Text as World): Photo of the Day #11

After visiting Stockholm yesterday, all day today was spent at the work table. Had Ira not reminded me late this evening, I might have forgotten to shoot the Photo of the Day. Quickly, I took the following photo, which gives a glimpse of my work environment. The book open on the stand is Paul Auster's Leviathan. The highlighted words from the novel are from the quote below.

After David was born, the situation only grew worse. Money became my single, overriding obsession, and for the next year I lived in a state of continual panic. With Delia no longer able to contribute much in the way of work, our income fell at the precise moment our expenses began to go up. I took the responsibilities of fatherhood seriously, and the thought of not being able to provide for my wife and on filled me with shame. -- Paul Auster, Leviathan

The narrator of the passage is Peter Aaron, a writer, and an author surrogate, perhaps, for Paul Auster, who has written extensively on living 'hand to mouth.' Hear me now and believe me later: I can empathize.

If one wants to read the author's biography into the novel - something that, having cut my chops on my Barthes and Foucault, I am generally reluctant to do, than parallels might be drawn between Delia and the writer Lydia Davis, Auster's first wife.