Well, to continue an already tired theme, here are three signs that my summer is over:

1. Mark Bellhorn is a member of the New York Yankees.

2. I've had more than my usual one beer per night for three days running.

3. My will to read has evaporated into the late-summer air. Today I was bored enough to rent a Fassbinder movie, but apparently not bored enough to make a dent in my still-lengthy summer reading list. Here are the fifteen books I did actually get through:

Moretti, Atlas of the European Novel
Philbrick, In the Heart of the Sea
Amis, London Fields
Mulisch, The Assault
Coetzee, Elizabeth Costello
Coetzee, Dusklands
Smith, No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency
Anderson, Imagined Communities
Scholes, Textual Power
Hemingway, The Fifth Column
Various, London Review of Books: An Anthology
Coetzee, Master of Petersburg
Moretti, Graphs, Maps, Trees
Pynchon, Gravity's Rainbow
Frank and Weiland, Commodify Your Dissent: Salvos from The Baffler
plus half of
Pamuk, My Name is Red
Various, Left Legalism/Left Critique