So, I am currently in the middle of having some kind of incredibly profound experience with Judith Butler. So ridiculously pretentious, I know. I’m doing some work right now on music and war and violence so I’m reading Precarious Life, which is Judy not talking gender and performance, but rather, talking about mourning and violence post-9/11. And I don’t know what it is, but I am just kind of in love with this book right now and I think it’s really wonderful.
Actually, probably what it is is that this is the first time I’ve read Butler and actually understood her and it makes me feel like I’m special.
Um, in completely unrelated news, I clearly need some action or something because I keep getting it in my head that it would be a good idea to call up someone that I obviously shouldn’t call up for, you know, some action. Last night I went so far as to draft an email and then passive-aggressively posted it over in ye olde Missed Connections just to get it out of my system. Because that’s ALWAYS constructive. This evening I have decided to go with the tactic of telling you, my internet family about it, and now I am going to go watch a Mae West movie.
Oh, but before I go! We went out for Italian tonight and there was this totally out of place cocktail menu that had a drink on it called a Han Solo and had no description of its contents other than something to the effect of “cool, refreshing and delicious” and now I have looked it up and every recipe I have found for a Han Solo cocktail seems to call for gin, vodka, rum, triple sec, sour mix and two kinds of bourbon. Which does not sound cool, refreshing or delicious, and is tragic, because a cocktail with that name held so much promise.
