I still have not retired, but have merely been on vacation. I am back now, and will probably post something within the next couple of days. In keeping with my ongoing identity crisis, I went to Gatlinburg, Tennesee for my vacation, and I actually enjoyed it, or some essential quality I discerned in it, more about which phenomenom I will doubtless write in one of my future posts. Otherwise I am the same, strangely incapable for the most part of writing anything, or even of forming impressions into coherent thoughts. Perhaps I ought to pull a Samuel Beckett and start writing in French and translating myself back into a sparer and more elegant English--the achievement of which, hard as it may seem to believe, has been my dearest desire for some years now. My whole thought process in English has become both so overcluttered and so confined within repeated narrow grooves that I seem to have lost my ability to manage any part of it, and some part of it at any rate I really need to find some way of getting back.