vendredi 28 juillet 2006

Amen.

But as a grownup, when I sit in front of the tube, I don't want it to improve me. I want it to spoil me. I want it to love me uncritically. I want that generous box, which showered me in my blissfull childhood with brain-rotting, violent shows like Speed Racer and Spider-Man, to give and give and expect nothing in return. Let me have my little, guiltless mometn of pleasure. I have the rest of my life to be virtuous, and the rest of eternity to be dead.

-James Poniewozik; Time, 10 April 2005
Headed back to civilisation, where I can have lots of junk food (a friend who luckily got to leave yesterday reported that there is decent food in the airport where I have my layover, "decent" meaning full of crap and not-organic nor multi-grain, not that I have anything against organic or multi-grain food, but HI, I want me some french fries) and rot my brain out with television once again. And believe me, I'm going drinking tonight. This past week has been as if I were at one of those fancy-dancy detox spas, which I would never willingly commit myself to.