During yoga this morning I suddenly recognized the similarity between a typical Faulkner story and a typical Seinfeld episode. Both display a penetrating insight into human nature by way of seemingly cast-off-dialogue within a loopy narrative structure. At their best each unfolds in a seemingly haphazard manner, only to blossom into these Rube-Goldbergian contraptions that mimic some aspect of your mate, or your parents or friends. I enjoy those flashes, when you recognize someone you know inside a fictional character. I like the sense of perpetuity . . . immortality if you will . . . in human nature.