Silver and tin...

Twenty-five years and day.  Last night, I uncovered an ancient photocopy of the New Yorker article on mad Oxfordians that set me off on quarter-century rampage of glee and wrath.   The "irk in the oystershell," as I said of another tale.  And I did in the end get a story from it, though perhaps not a pearl.  If it is one, black and baroque.

...and pure gold.

Heard an evening of radio plays by the glorious Post-Meridian gang.  Them! is a tour-de-force of straight-faced fifties kitsch (with .... mandibles); derspatchel 's Crisis of the Cuddlykins is divinely demented.  Last chance to catch them is next Sunday at the MIT Museum.

(And isn't Responsible Grace a wonderful name for a church?)

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Published on April 13, 2013 21:03
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