charlie looks at me through a mirror portal by rockyfeller chapel. did it fall from the bell tower, or the sky?

 there was more to the story of the world after us, like it was all the kid's fantasy, that he couldn't handle reality and rejection so he made up his own story which was sad and lame and lacking in verisimilitude. 

 philosophical cosmopolitans may have been the useful idiots of american empire. they forgave its crimes and they looked past its own transgressions.

samuel moyn

 good morning sunday. we tried to watch nymphomaniac 1 the director's cut, but it kept cutting out, so we watched the world after us. it was flaccid. 

 saturday in the quadrangle with charlie and baxton. baxton bounded in around the hedge and surprised us. they said we can get him and we said no! let em play! charlie zoomed and yipped and baxton skittered after with his mini schnauzer legs. 

 wait, is it 1.7 trillion or billion. does it matter? it's academic, it's monumental. the dust may never settle.

 it's not for the neighborhood. it's no longer a neighborhood park. this is a convention center for the oligarchs. i know it's a bore, and i'll quit rapping about it someday when the dust settles.