Also, lately I've been missing Canada a lot... but not the Canada that I know, strangely enough. I miss camp fires and chilling by the lake, and drinking beer, playing cards, shooting the shit, driving to strange places - possibly nowhere.
My memories have somehow created a hardcore simulacrum.
I have been reading this damn Pynchon book for god knows how long now. And now I'm almost done but realise how little of it I actually understand. Stupid post-modern literature.
Anyone else my list into Euro2008? Hup Holland Hup!
A bunch of us cultural analysts rode to the beach (TWO HOURS... one way!!) and I just found our beach reading material so typically pretentious, yet hilarious and so appropriate for who we are.
Inga: Kafka (in German) Nathan: Badiou and Deleuze Myself: Pynchon
No wonder I feel so inadequate amongst these people.