I took a break from Ayn Rand, halfway through Atlas Shrugged, to read some Bukowski. Nothing provides relief from epic, superhuman characters who bend the world to their ends by sheer force of will than a bunch of useless alcoholics who find time for plot and character development in between glasses of wine and doubles of vodka. I actually enjoy Bukowski quite a bit; there's something believable and extremely sad about his listless characters, too burned out on life to realize the futility of their empty existence.
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I watched "the Edukators," a superb German film about a trio of socialist vandals caught somewhere between idealism and the real world. Highly recommended. I'm not sure what it is, but Eurpoean cinema does a superb job of capturing a realness in their actors, settings and stories that their American counterparts.
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