I just got back from a mesmerising trip to. Place is tense, waiting for the new armaments in to make themselves known, but the yuppies are partying and gossiping and trying to find substantial lives despite their dim prospects. It strikes me more than before that literature needs a deeply personal account from somebody who was there long ago and returns within a lifetime to recount the physical changes he finds in the culture as well as the emotional changes he admits to beneath his own skin. . . . My own Lebanon projects are warped around my continuing existential fears but still resonated with the people I recorded in , and I intend to get a vid or MS out soon of these encounters. A documentation of anxiety beneath the attack.