Interesting book. I wasn't completely sold on it until I read that it had inspired some of Michael Moorcock's work, but now that I've started, the thing is like some kind of fanstasy fever-dream.
While we're talking, can I mention that I was practically the only asshole riding his bike through the blistering cold in the Park this morning? I saw one rather serious-looking rider and one other commuter, and that was it.
Also: why does it feel like the air is thicker when it's cold, and why is the wind always in my face? Argh.
Anyway, it's a slow-looking Thursday and almost Christmas, so the pre-Holiday malaise is on in full in the City. So that's all I got for today.
What's up with you?