Darkness at noon

It's feeling like we're falling down a rabbit hole or a well lately; the cat constantly thinks it's dinner time, it's so dark outside. Or maybe he's preparing for some imminent disaster only animals can sense by trying to fatten himself up; yeah, that's a good feline rationalization.
Interesting piece by Angela Carter about the Surrealists, whom she admired, except for their rampant macho and sometimes outright misogyny. I'm nearing the end of this sturdy volume of her collected writings, full of nuggets and veins of sharp observation, mingled with bits on chossy subjects like fashion, about which I grow increasingly indifferent and scornful. Looking at the "women's pages" in the morning paper at a spread on mini dresses, I at least get a snort or even a chuckle from the mindlessness involved in giving a shit about clothes that look like shorty pajamas from summers of the 50's.