Mad Men: “I’ll have your tags by lunch.” “Round and round….”

I got a tiny thrill watching Don Draper throw off his wine glass and bypass his coach to sit determinedly at his typewriter at the end of this week’s Mad Men. And then the end-credit music started playing, from the era I assume, saying “round and round and round and round….” and I realized my thrill was about the way I love that spot, that post-prodigal, post-hangover, sober black coffee determination to be the man. And how to me, it’s real, but to others, it’s fleeting and fake. Portnoy’s Complaint.
Against these machines that run, always, these tools that await our human waves of wild inconsistency, we will always appear not to deliver, and then sometimes to alchemically appear.

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