Didn't drink scotch last night, perhaps because I was alone, and beginning to brood, and didn't want to do anything reckless (believe me, there was at least one potentially disastrous reckless act I'd started considering). Apple juice, October Project's first album, and contemplation of the world instead.

A quote from E.B. White in 1949, which is way too apt right now:

"The subtlest change in New York is something people don't speak about much but that is on everyone's mind. The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. A single flight of planes, no bigger than a wedge of geese, can quickly end this island fantasy, burn the towers, crumble the bridges, turn the underground passages into lethal chambers, cremate the millions. The intimation of mortality is part of New York now: in the sound of jets overhead, in the black headlines of the latest edition."

Still, I'm tolerably cheerful.