I didn’t realize until a moment ago that today was Albert Camus’ one hundredth birthday. He’s one of those guys you like when you’re young, fall out of love with, and then rediscover as being pretty great.

By coincidence, while waiting to see if I would be selected for jury service, I we as reading his journals. Specifically, his earliest ones: 1935-1943. I’m up to summer 1938.

Anyway, pick up some Camus in the next day or two. Totally worthwhile.