I'm reformatting the hardrive on my new laptop, as the people who sent it to me decided to include a lot of bullshit software who's only purpose is to ask me stupid fucking questions.

Also, I woke up an hour ago, and slept through three different phone calls between the hours of 6:30 and 5:30.

And my mouth smells like something died in it, and I'm not wearing any clothes.

This is what fancy art types call "Mise en Scène". Which I've actually been researching a bit, as I'm currently (not this second, but since yesterday, or whatever the fuck day it was yesterday, I'm not sure, I was crossing time zones) reading House of Leaves, which is a lot of fun.

I don't have the book next to me, but I believe the first page contains only the words "Muse un Siene", which, if you're liberal with your accent, sounds like "mise en scène", and is a good way to describe the book's first chapter.

The question: To what extent can the book as a whole be called "mise en abyme"?

Anyway, I'm sure I'll be writing more about this subject, if I don't forget about it.

Other subjects to write more about: The Western Wall. Habbits of the American Tourist. Shwarma. Snorkling and Acid. Drinking at Noon. Airports.