Divine Authority

In Atlanta, visiting Cyn. Wet and cold outside, ideal within - coffee, Wire's On the Box: 1979 on the Nano, a sneezing fourteen-year-old cat gambolling underfoot, the New York Times' crossword, etc. Recovering from Saturday's torpid wedding reception. A Russian friend from university, Vika, married her long-time Moldavian beau, Mischa, in Covington, a hick-ass suburban redoubt. Mikhail's emigration was sponsored by a religious convocation there, so we were forced to endure an extraordinarily vapid (alcohol-free, hymn-suffused) procession. Jesus, we had to eat at a fucking Chili's, visit a Baptist church, toast the bride and groom with Sprite! Those (often enjoyably risible) calamities notwithstanding, the after-party was awash in requisite spirits, and Russki techno blared into the morning...

We've managed at last to stir. Off to lunch, etc.

TS