Friday Cat/Paul Wolfowitz Blogging
Here's one of the thousands of nameless cats my wife and I encountered last month in Kusadasi, Turkey, halfway through a twelve-day Mediterranean cruise. Feral felines were everywhere to be found in the eastern Mediterranean, as was the pulverizing scent of cat urine, which seemingly coated the bottom two feet of every building and alley wall in the Greek islands and the Turkish mainland. It smelled remarkably like our own living room, where our three cats and two dogs joust for recognition by soiling the floors and bookshelves with pungent regularity.
On the subject of my recent cruise, I have been spurred into action by a gruff e-mail received today from one of my academic mentors — a scholar who has published on Theodor Adorno but whose intellectual life will evidently lack fulfillment until I blog about my vacation. To wit:
The administrative process is pretty murky, but I'm pretty certain this person is in a position to revoke my Ph.D, which I earned mostly by plagiarizing material from the back of cereal boxes and transcribing the assorted ravings of Minneapolis' most articulate street wastrels. With that in mind, I have vowed — by Monday, by Christ — to begin posting a series of short entries about the gluttonous days I spent aboard the Grand Princess.
Until then — and so long as we're thinking about the smell of cat urine — I give you the comic stylings of Paul Wolfowitz:
Oh, Paul, you stupid fuck.