In a restaurant yesterday. The orchestra was playing what was the background music of the sixties. Of the elevators I used to take. Then I hated it, but yesterday drank it all. Made me sulk. in yesterday Otis
Everybody was working on Flame. Telling on Plame. Extraordinary Journalists. High Level Politicians. So busy burying a non-story. Outing - a la maniere de Cocteau. Nobody cared though to check the WMDs.
