Well, it’s about three in the morning and my internet connection is out, so I’m typing this brief entry into my word processor before going to bed. Still, it’s not like I had a whole lot to say, having merely transcribed some more notes and quotes for the chapter on Disgrace. By my estimation, I’m still only about a quarter or so through the transcription and I am already on page fifty of my single-spaced notes. It’s ridiculous. The one satisfying thing, though, was having the opportunity to prune Gayatri Spivak’s painfully prolix text down to a few carefully-selected (and delightfully brief) passages. I feel sort of like Yossarian censoring letters in his hospital bed on Pianosa, wiping out whole blocks of text.