Greetings Bibliophiles,
It was Samuel Johnson who once quipped, "It is a dead dog that has no bark..." Or maybe he didn't. What does it matter in this day and age?
We're approaching the diēs caniculārēs, the dry raging days of summer. We're hunkering down to sweat out the long season and survive our rapidly declining civilities.
"You want ketchup with that, piss off" our waitress says. The guy in line at the bank wants two hundred dollars in dimes for no apparent reason other than to vex us. We suddenly become enraged, avowing to murder the asshole driving three miles below the speed limit blaring Limp Bizkit out of a stereo more attuned to the mating call of a dodo, which it might be...
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