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Saturday, July 2, 2011

Midnight in Paris

I would hardly call myself a fan of either Paris or Woody Allen, yet this movie strikes the right tone for me. The little tinglings on my skin sparked reliably in nearly every scene --- the know-it-all professor played by Michael Sheen, the ugly American tourist family, the literary and artistic celebrities from the 1920s. The whole lot. Plus I recognized and identified with the sense of being born too late, the stumbling, clumsy awe toward the "giants" one honestly admires. Plus the self-awareness about one's romantic fantasies about the past --- can't really live in a world without Zithromax.

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Petyr Baelish of Sichuan: Echoes of the 3 Kingdoms

Sometimes my mind makes unexpected associations. A few days ago I was talking to a couple of friends, who are of Sichuan (or Szechuan) ances...

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