The latest outrage
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn’t get started on Harpo Marx.
Up where the air is clear
In Which Your Humble Blogger could probably have concocted some sort of metaphor. Rising to heaven with a string attached, something along those lines. Maybe next time.
Fundamentals, Fluctuations and Feels
In Which Your Humble Blogger seems to recall being surprised in 2004, and surely was in 2000. I think 1988 was the last time I wasn’t at least cautiously optimistic about my Party’s nominee.
October Baseball again
In Which Your Humble Blogger sticks to his crackpot notions, because what’s the point in being a crackpot, really, if you’re going to let experience change your mind?
Thar she blows!
In Which Your Humble Blogger is unlikely to change the context, which is that of a grey-haired bow-tied library clerk peering through spectacles at a nineteen-year-old woman with ‘airmail’ written across her ass.
Malvolio Production Diary: Bits and Bobs
In Which Your Humble Blogger isn’t actually very good at describing physical bits, and has given up on waiting for video which may or may not exist.
About Last Night
In Which Your Humble Blogger has used that title before. Pretty sure. I suppose I could check.
No-one’s gonna get their kicks tonight
In Which Your Humble Blogger also thinks that an emphasis on this being only the first of three will remind journos and pundits of their suspicion that he might not show up for the others.
Bi Visibility Day (or, Woke’s No Joke)
In Which Your Humble Blogger has eyes to see with, and eyelids to prop open.
Minds Made Up
In Which Your Humble Blogger would totally have already voted, if Connecticut allowed it.