Friday, April 12, 2019
Ghost Dog in Metallic Green
There's a Fancy French furniture store around the corner on Finchley Road displaying all sorts of improbable, high-end products -- blue sofas shaped vaguely like clams or parentheses, bright sectionals in crazy-quilt patchwork patterns. Olga and I wander past on our walks, and the other day we caught our reflection in one of a series of colorful, metallic stools in the window. If you look very closely you can also see Olga's reflection in the window itself, a hovering ghost-dog.
I'm glad Julian Assange got arrested yesterday. That situation has long been untenable -- him holed up in a tiny embassy, skateboarding through the hallways -- and it's time he face the music for his various transgressions. He had become pathetic, hiding out all these years. As for WikiLeaks, I think it provides a valuable service, but I also think (like any publication) it needs a careful editor to, for example, screen out information that could endanger lives. It lost my respect when it proved itself so easily manipulated by Russian hackers in the 2016 elections. Assange calls himself a journalist, but he seemed to disdain having to make the same sorts of journalistic decisions that real editors deal with every day.
Today's our last workday before Spring Break. Dave and I are off all next week. We have no firm plans, although I hope to walk a little more of the Capital Ring and work in the garden. I'm looking forward to having some time off with no particular place to go.