Invincible Summer |||

Mechanical men

‘Th-they think I don’t care, any more. “You can observe without passion.” Bastards… No I didn’t mean that… Slothrop, we’re all such mechanical men. Doing our jobs. That’s all we are. Listen – how do you think I feel?’

from Gravity’s Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon

Up next Enough bitterness Broken and reassembled every day
Latest posts A revolution in France Your right to bare arms Y q? The return of the king Clarity, rigour and Rory Stewart The World’s End Book Club Remembering Bel Macdonald Barts hearts and faces Summer on wheels All that jazz: The librarian’s song Sandals on their way home A short history of the Australian Flat White Cycling glove, slightly foxed Untoward occurrence at embassy poetry reading To Go to Lvov The founding of Iverson College The pot-boy’s story Prisoners of our own device How green is my valley The ghost in the shell Policing protests in Glasgow Why don’t we do it in the road? The democracy of narcissism The rest is silence Bergh Apton revisited What makes a language flourish? A duty of care Crispbread economics Learning vector programming The Underground The Post Office scandal