Waiting for the fever to break. Almost the definition of "no fun". I think the worst time was in the Philippines, when I was ten or so, one of those fevers of mysterious origin which turns your life into a Philip K. Dick novel. You know, you wake up and you're not really sure whether you're still in a dream: this is not my beautiful house? oh wait a minute, it is. Dammit. Anthony Burgess did a pretty good job with the strange fevered word associations, in his Shakespeare book of all places. His Malayan trilogy is frustrating too.
Since Dave MB and Noel are around, let me throw out this idea that's been rattling around in my head for a while (especially in the last 48): there's a connection between Blanchard's model of the breakdown of a centrally planned economy, Razborov & Rudich's concept of the natural proof, and Goodman's grue paradox. Something to do with complicated Boolean functions which I can't quite put into words yet.
In the middle of the night I thought I remembered a children's book about a beatnik girl, which maybe I saw in a store window once, maybe. The book exists, so I am not crazy (at least in that sense), and it's called Suzuki Beane. Googling around, it looks like some self-promoting jackass now has the copyright, instead of the original author, Sandra Scoppettone, who now writes mysteries which have completely passed me by. Cute pictures by the original illustrator, Louise Fitzhugh, who wrote Harriet the Spy soon after.
I am so tired. Update: Okay, now I know why Jerry Lewis gets so crazy during those 72-hour Labor Day telethons.
The Pure Product of America: Bennies?
Bennies? what is this, 1956? No, mon semblable, mon frère, the only bennies I get are those my employment doesn't provide. More zinc, I think. And, let's see: Summer in the Country, The Dud Avocado, or Digressions on some poems by Frank O'Hara? Since I'm apparently not going to rest sleepfully any time this weekend, and I don't want to be reading the Internet at 3 AM again.
The Pure Product of America: Oh, you'll be here, all right. You'll be here.