Saw Count Drew this evening for the first time in time. He's being
super-successful in TV-land. I tried to highlight my recent
achievements (the re-grouting of the bathroom, for example), but
sounded more than a little forlorn. We talked too much shit and drank
too much wine. It could have been the 1990s.

Before the vino and the not-so-veritas we went to a screening of The Wrestler, Darren Aronofsky's new film. It stars Mickey Rourke and there's been a lot of talk about his performance. I don't know this because I heard said 'talk', only because I read about it somewhere. He is pretty good, but it's hard to tell if it's a 'performance' as such or simply the extraordinary and compelling state of his face. For some reason which may or may not be surgical, Mickey Rourke now looks like a waxwork dummy of Mickey Rourke. And, in the course of The Wrestler, the wax slowly begins to melt. It's a thing.

Actually, I was more interested in the idea that this was an 'art-house film'. What does that mean? I increasingly suspect 'art-house cinema' is a bit like 'underground music' - these are labels that say nothing meaningful about the style or substance of the work, but are a more palatable way of saying it's not very popular. I wish I'd realised this sooner and I might have taken to transposing the word 'unpopular' for 'underground' when talking about hip hop. 'Where are you going tonight, P?' 'I'm going down the club. Strictly unpopular. Believe.'

But, I don't imagine The Wrestler will be unpopular, because it's little more than Rocky in tights. I did quite enjoy it (I like Rocky), but I'm not half bored of the Hollywood cinematic form. I imagine the formal narrative structure is now hard-wired into our psyche (as both film makers and watchers) and we can look forward to never being surprised by an American film again.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I read recently that the age I'm turning marks the height of my intellectual capacity just as my sexual capacity bottoms out. I don't know what I think about that. Franky, I feel as brilliant and sexy as ever. Perhaps I'm just lucky.

Yesterday I read on the internet that the wet summer has led to the trees turning unusually beautiful colours for Autumn. When I went outside, I found this to be indisputably true. Thank God for the internet. How else would i have made such a discovery?