Nothing to report this morning but the various moods of my daughter (as she sat prepared to go down to her swimming classes) describing the very first circus she ever saw in her life last night.
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Art
Whose song is it, anyway?
I examine how outrage mistakes the visible performer for the true author, and ...
Anger
The pickpocket. And my sanity.
I examine the moment when the pickpocket is predictable, the police are fallible, ...
