Revenge of the Supersnob!

Yesterday's post was disingenuous. I am, after all, a fully-paid-up card-carrying member of the cultural elite. Not only do I make my living off of Western Civilization, I believe in it too. This is not something I have a problem with, even when it makes me feel vaguely guilty for preferring movies with explosions to movies with highbrow messages.

So today I did my cultural duty by picking up a few classical CDs (classical in the loose sense of Shostakovich and Dvorak, but I was brought up in a household in which any music later than 1800 was anathema. Except, bizarrely, Respighi. Why was that?). And I went to the movies to see Igby Goes Down, which was cold but in a heartwarming kind of way.

Will my attempts to break out of the Baroque ghetto meet with success? I had a freakish moment last summer when I realized that my loathing for lieder was not as soundly-based as I thought. perhaps Dvorak will open me up to the charms of the Romantics.

So hooray for me! And hooray for the workman who have managed to fix the broken water main on my street and restore running water to my building, after over twelve hours of digging up the street.

But not hooray for Angel.

( spoilers )