Getting cold outside, thinking about George Smiley. I've been acting a little too real lately, time for something else, something more normal for me, anyone for a teary dockside farewell?- the boat's leaving.

Perfect detachment, perfect submission, these things are difficult, but that's part of their appeal. Had it with caring about how I feel. Thinking about the closing scene of 'Miller's Crossing', John Turturro on the ground, begging "Look in your heart! Look in your heart!" Those 'Red Harvest' type stories have long been very special to me, how much destruction can one man wreak?