I'm going to try reading James Joyce's Finnegans Wake again--I failed miserably the first time, giving up after one hundred fifty pages--and while I'm still deciding just how I'm going to approach it (with or without Joseph Campbell's A Skeleton Key to Finnegans Wake?), John Bishop's introduction mentions Virgilian "fortune-telling," "a reading practice whereby one would flip open a copy of Virgil at random and elicit a prediction from the verse on which one's finger landed." So I did a bit of Virgilian fortune-telling using Virgil's Aeneid. I'm not very heartened:

Cutting through waves blown dark by a chill wind
Aeneas held his ships firmly on course
For a midsea crossing. But he kept his eyes
Upon the city far astern, now bright
With poor Elissa's pyre. What caused that blaze
Remained unknown to watchers out at sea,
But they knew of a great love profaned
In anguish, and a desperate woman's nerve,
Led every Trojan heart into foreboding.

I'm going to go on a cruise this year. The cruise ship will be raided by pirates who, instead of burying us at sea, will set the cruise ship on fire--with everyone still on board.

Thanks, Virgil.