In Which Your Humble Blogger still, still, still believes it. For good or ill, humanity.
In Which Your Humble Blogger really doesn't much like the whole virtual table read form, but would totally change my mind for this imaginary event.
In Which Your Humble Blogger writes it out. Maybe it'll help? Maybe YHB will feel better for it? Maybe.
In which Your Humble Blogger is sad and afraid, but also grateful that there is someone to be so sad about, and whose protection has been so great that removing it is so scary.
In Which Your Humble Blogger also wonders what we are missing by not having the other goat, the one that doesn't live.
In which Your Humble Blogger wishes that we all be inscribed for a good year, and that we all endeavor to deserve it.
In Which Your Humble Blogger failed to work in the Martin Luther King, Jr. quote about how there is nothing more tragic than to sleep through a revolution.
In Which Your Humble Blogger promised the department chair not to do any mathematics, you know, professionally, but never promised not to ask other people to do them for me.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is still moved by participatory self-government, even in These Uncertain Times.
In Which Your Humble Blogger noticed the spine label was coming off, and flipped through the pages, or tried to.
