Thursday, November 1, 2012

1st November

  There's a guy running
  around out there like
  crazy, asking me to
  ruin my world for him,
  and if I do, he'll let
  me have more m&m's. He
  calls this, my dream.

Fredric Johansson
Tom Guinness
Benjamin Eidem


  1. I can think of better chocolate. Men, too.

    1. One could enormously agree, but the diplomacy of bloghosting (which I'm able to study, as you may find, only in my spare time) leaves me with the expression, chacun à son cacao. But you, dear maestro, are absolutely the source I've been meaning to turn to in your expertise in the vocal scoring or performance of villainy in opera. Does Verdi anticipate as much rubato for Iago as our Tea Party Troubadour infuses into his unctuous solicitude for employment, his urgently driven empathy for the waitress in Cincinnati?

      Plainly it is not the purpose of this page to hold the price of innocent shares hostage to a political metaphor; and therefore I mean to invite no further reflections on M&M's, per se. Yet I'm grateful for your having read between the lines of that intent, which was so ill rewarded by those shiny shells of moral suasion in the present posting. Someone must someday remark (don't you think?) of how apocalyptically he proposes to accomplish David Brooks's "big things" for us, for the price of a few unpaid taxes.

      But I stray. Eva Truffaut, whose blog you'll access from this sidebar ("Context"), has placed before us a much more positive spin on the entire matter. I couldn't possibly comment.

      Visit again? I am always hopeful of seeing you.