word-food.

from the intro:

“When you discover that the black natives of Lamborene hated Schweitzer, you begin to suspect noble individuals have some secret need in them to be loved, to look good in others’ eyes, to succor themselves or dissipate their guilts with benevolent gestures.”

i wonder how it is that i can always smell out my new favorite author based on arbitrary criteria. the man is brilliant and lovely and very strange, and i already knew i would love him every second from a film adaptation of a story he wrote, starring don johnson and a terrier.

more of a review once i’ve read sunk my teeth in. tonight i’m two tecates deep and already 11 minutes past bedtime, so i probably won’t get much word-food in before i lay down my little head.

goodnight to the universe. it is exactly 70 degrees.