I FEEL AS THOUGH THE CARNIVAL HAS LEFT TOWN...

If you go out to the field where they set up, there's trampled grass, crumpled programs, pieces of popcorn, empty Lung-Kuro bottles, and, mysteriously, a paisely ascot, stained with some unspeakable and possibly reptilian ichor.

Mr. Womack and his fabulous Borgesian Book Show have moved on, taking the girl gangs of New York, the flat earthers, and the sex aliens with them.

Dang.

That was awesome. Thank you, Jack.

But we've made him his own set of keys, and look forward to him dropping in again, at