Hi! Do you remember blogs? Well, this used to be one. Now it just serves as an archive for my multiple Twitter accounts.
Foucault’s Pendulum, by Umberto Eco, page 56. Fuck it, fuck him and all his words and his sentences and his names and his dumping every cultural reference he has and the unbearable 1850s-style translation. That’s no way to tell a story, and you really gotta be terminally snob to want to read that. I have other things to do with my time, and I’m returning to more civilized material.