In Which Your Humble Blogger should note what Gentle Readers already know, I hope, that American-style democracy works to the extent that people care about electing the Town Council and the Board of Education, far more so than the President.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is reminded that the Latin tag of this Tohu Bohu is both a rallying cry and a simple and empirical description of the universe.
In Which Your Humble Blogger really doesn’t have much to add to the discussion, particularly now that the person who wrote the article has added a note saying the very thing that I was going to say in response. Still, maybe one of y’all have something new.
In Which Your Humble Blogger still would watch the recently discovered tape of Game Seven in 1960, but would not wager on the outcome.
In Which Your Humble Blogger takes a contrary position.
In Which Your Humble Blogger continues the Armistice Day tradition.
In Which Your Humble Blogger does what he does what he does, and is grateful that that’s all he does.
In Which Your Humble Blogger does that Total Request Live thing, but with sonnets.
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn’t miss the novels the departed won’t write, because those would likely stink like the last couple, but misses the novels that he would never have written, because he didn’t write them twenty years ago. Or his wife didn’t, either one.
In Which Your Humble Blogger was disappointed by the version where Heatchliff and Catherine do not communicate via semaphore.