Last of the wine

I am more unfocused than usual in my reading. I have been working my way through The Derrida-Habermas Reader, a nice collection focused on the exchanges between Derrida and Habermas, but have picked up The Portable Enlightenment Reader and am distracted by it. Maybe, I should acquiesce in a Panglossian attitude toward reading.

Then there is politics. How I became a political junkie I do not know, but junkie I am. Watching politics the last fours days has not sated my appetite. The problem is that I insist on thinking things through for myself even though I most likely do not possess any of the prerequisites for it. I am incapable of making any genuine ideological commitments, or maybe, I have, and I am not astute enough to realize it.

Then there is Les Liaisons Dangereuses. How does Laclos make me hear different voices with these letters?

Then there is this bright and warm day, the last of the wine. I should taste the last of the wine. That’s the ticket.