Hot shit, that book The Odyssey.    Hero hops home from the Trojan War, going forward like the rest of us, after a major life disruption.   I was in a hassle last week.  No book deal, yet.   Relevant now?  Sure.   I'll play sexless mythology teacher.  The Odyssey is  more important than The Tree Stooges.   It's a more important art object, the book, translated to English, for us, Americans, than the works of Iggy Pop.  A modern American.  

Something momentous has taken places in the humanities.  Dylan got the Prize for literature.  Martin Scorsese's film Taxi Driver, in which Travis Bickel returns from the Vietnam war, and goes forward with his happy, horrid canards, is as much a story as The Odyssey.    Maybe more.   Everything.   Trojan horse?  The horse our hero rode in on?   Or rode inside of, waiting for an enemy to be deceived and abused all to fuck.  It's like buying a high end smartphone, and it has malware.  It fucks you six ways till Sunday.  Then you hurl your shitty, expensive phone in an enchanted pond, a water goddess appears, and says, "Quit polluting my apartment with your misguided acquisitions."

The finest of people can be a twat when miffed, vexed, whatever.  Forgive people for being ass-wipes.  Secular equivalencies.  Moral elasticity.  Two things that keep the peace, with flair ups.   Thanks for reading.