sovay: (Lord Peter Wimsey)
Definitely sick. Sore throat, stuffed nose, disturbing sensation that my brain has gently extracted itself and floated off somewhere I can't do much with it, and I seem to have wiped out my energy reserves for the day by walking to Porter Square to pick up my copy of Emeric Pressburger's The Glass Pearls (1966) from Porter Square Books. On the way down we passed a basketball court full of kids playing cricket—the batsman and the bowler were getting trash-talked by their respective opposing sides. The blackened plywood over the doors of the former MBTA substation on School Street had been removed and an enormous spool-like chunk of what must have been a dynamo dragged out onto the weedy grass behind the chain-link, glittering with mica insulation and copper ends. [personal profile] spatch got pictures which I am hoping came out. We have no idea what is being done with the property, but there were abandoned construction gloves on both sides of the fence. They'll probably demolish the mural. I hope Rob got pictures of that, too.

Courtesy of this impressive timesink, I think this may be the single worst photograph of Leslie Howard I have ever seen:


I am unsurprisingly charmed by it.

Oh, and the ostensible president of this country shared classified information which wasn't ours to share at last week's meeting with Russian officials which American reporters weren't allowed into, all of which may not be technically illegal, but is certainly a great way to endanger sources and jeopardize security and in general look like a complete tool of the Russian government, which I hate that I am even writing because my entire childhood was spent observing the de-escalation of the Cold War and you know, I still don't think it was a bad idea.
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