The house, the study, is dark behind him, and he is waiting for that instant when all light has failed out of the sky and it would be night save for that faint light which daygranaried leaf and grass blade reluctant suspire, making still a little light on earth though night itself has come. Now, soon, he thinks; soon, now He does not say even to himself: "There remains yet something of honor and pride, of life."
William Faulkner, Light in August
04:35 2006-12-10
courant, printing math and studying shell scripting innuendo
I went out to two parties in Brooklyn tonight, and hung out with a crew on Thursday night as well, and together that is probably more socializing than I've done in a month or more. It was mostly very fun, though at the second (very well orchestrated, they thought of everything) party, there was a Michael Jackson theme and the host was very pushy about that I should do a Michael Jackson "OW!" sort of scream to come into his sweaty apartment. In addition to sweaty dancing people, there was a projector playing the best Michael Jackson videos, white glitter covered gloves, a girl with fake black tits that she exposed at one point in a wardobe malfunction, a typewriter whereupon you could write to Michael with your hopes and dreams for him, a nose recreation room, and a shadow puppet show featuring an elaborate MJ cut-out, ET, and other confusing references to the eighties.
The theme was "Remember when Michael Jackson was black...
...and AWESOME?"
It was pretty awesome.
This is the best because that sparkly suit (you can't totally tell this:) is purple and he is also wearing sparkly boots in that video and I wrote Michael a letter telling him that I want them.
I also met a cool girl named Skylar and talked about sewing and baked goods and the badass southern bakery in Harlem where you can get banana pudding like no where else (except the south) and they sell it by the pound.
Then I rode the L into town and it is so sparkling bright and clean, it's crazy and much different than my beloved A/D late-night grime. It almost makes me consider moving to Brooklyn.