The month-long saga that has been my attempt to get permanent Internet in my apartment finally came to a favorable conclusion this morning. Gone are the endless sessions in wi-fi equipped cafés or the pirated wireless that only shows up between midnight and 5 am. After five appointments, the first three of which the technician was AWOL, my network has been named "Sisyphus" in their honor. Or, for another literary paraphrase: L'enfer, ce n'est pas les autres, c'est France Telecom. [Hell isn't other people, it's France Telecom.]
More blogging to come: reflections on the banlieue a year on, Kraftwerk & friends last weekend (camera USB cable located), and still backlogged Brasil stories (want to meet the guy who first used the Rocky theme song in Rio funk? stay tuned).
For now, Mark E. Smith will help me celebrate.
The Fall - Totally Wired