I'd like to say I found something interesting to read out here in the ether where everything you read is a truth or a falsehood or on the way to becoming one or the other.
Sometimes, it seems more like one and the other. Except, I didn't find this; it was shoved at me. Technically, I shouldn't sound so aggrieved as it was carpet bombed on a bunch of us. I don't know what anyone else made of the entreaty but I followed the recommendation and enjoyed.
As a fan Camus' The Just (Assassins), I was predisposed to liking it and then about mid-way through it, and you'll get to it as well and (I hope) enjoy the deliciousness of the wordplay, I came across this: "... he would see a calm man—no, a great man, deserving of respectful service, and only traditional sauces."
I don't think I will ever see myself as a calm man, nor will anyone else, ever. I tend to veer more towards manic and mayhem, but that's not my (main) point (I think). The movie in my head this writing inspired is much more interesting than anything on the big screen, I-Max or 3-D, at your nearest multi-plex.
Literature is where so much of our movie collection actually got its start and the terrific thing about the written word is there are no sprockets to pop or film gates to lose track of which is just as well as I've lost my harmonica, Albert.
-bill kenny
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