I regularly—like two or three times a week for the past several years—have nightmares that I am seeing through the eyes of Philippe Petit, walking a tightrope between the tops of the World Trade Center buildings. I'm not an extreme sports guy, unlike my brother, and I'm not particularly afraid of heights. My dime-store self-analysis says it's (a) anxiety stemming from experiencing 9/11, and (b) anxiety over being emotionally pulled between the East and West coasts. In any case, I saw this video tonight on the New York Times' website and it was kind of a revelation for me, in that the guy tightropes over an extremely high height, but he's wearing a FUCKING PARACHUTE. I'm hoping I can incorporate this into my nightmare from now on. Might sleep a little better, I don't know.
This concludes our neuroses-centric programming, and we now return you to pretty records and gritty pictures, and vice-versa, etc.