Somehow I've been losing blogs; the last two or three or four simply haven't been "published." Talked with Phil for a long while Sunday (yesterday) morning. He's just seen Lohengrin done at the Koeln Staatsoper, which moved him to Modest/Piotr Tschaikovsky-like lacrimal effusions, the beauty thereof overwhelming him. He keeps saying, "They're not after you, Anatole, you old hippy," thereby missing several points, the major one being that they're after all of us, or, rather, a good number of any of us. Depressing, hard to argue--especially beacuse, in a way, I don't really want him to grasp the full horror of what "they," the Negropontes, Kissingers, Dan Mitreones, are all about. I just keep saying "Google Operation Condor," and Phil keeps never doing it.