in which witness is borne: birds, politics, fiction and critical art theory

winged felines

Sunday, December 26, 2004
hey- why aren't there any winged felines? i guess that's sort of a Darwinian question. I only got about a hundred and fifty pages into the Origin of Species, but he didn't seem all that interested in how creatures became winged. I think the archaeological record wasn't all that revelatory on the subject at that time.
So the weather has finally broken and it's risen above 12 degrees Fahrenheit. Perhaps now we can move the bed back from the middle of the living room floor to its normal spot under the big window.
I bailed out miserably on the Christmas Bird Count for Evanston this morning, dependent as i am for a ride on other people...and i suppose i was weeded out by the 7am meetup time. Owel.
Finished The Autobiography of Red by Anne Carson. She's such a challenge to read, and is getting me back into my ultimate fantasy genre, Greek literature. As in, Ancient, pre-and post- Homer. If i had my druthers and no social conscience, I'd retreat into literary studies for the rest of my life. but...no such (*^!@#$ luck.

5:06 PM :: ::
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