No Italy, but

this blog has seemed to undergo a recent renaissance. The postings, I mean, have become more frequent. And almost out of nowhere. There is a context, indeed. It is my return to the place where I grew up, Miami. Miami, for the past four years, and trivially before that, although it came up in conversation less, was the place from where I was from. I am from Miami. Oh? Yes. How do you like it? Eh. At the very least, I had some close friends who definitely didn’t like it, and as I followed their tastes in music, books and nihilism, it followed closely that I would also start to share their opinions of the home land. Now, that isn’t to say that those opinions are wrong, even unjustified. It is merely to say that on matters in which I don’t have strong preferences, I am happy to assume those of my closest peers. Evidence for this interpersonal knowledge: I now like Pink Floyd and Daft Punk, music that would have never been played in my high school friends’ automobiles, and now would still likely be turned off. Of course, there are many objections to made. Perhaps there tastes have changed also. It is not a controlled experiment, merely a personal observation. But this is my blog, and my posts, and so I kindly urge the refer to defer to the authority of my waking conscious experience in all matters related to my personal psychology, more perhaps as matter of manners than a rigorous epistemology. But that is neither here nor there.

This blog post was supposed to be about my recent experiences in Miami, which have been eye opening and pleasurable, and which I wish to continue to nurture as long as I remain in this place from which I was conceived, mentally and otherwise. But those details will wait, and stir round in my mind and forget themselves and re-remember in an altered existence until I deliver them to you here, at a later date, or possibly not at all. But how about that Kobe Bryant?


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