Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Dear dwinding readership...

No, I'm not dead. Just sick. One of those stupid summer colds caught during a weekend of sleeping in a freezing tent near Morin Heights, QC.

So, until the mercury rises back up my health-o-metre, busy yourself by picking up the latest issue of The New Yorker, which is chock-a-block with good articles this week. Adam Gopnik's excellent discussion of recent re-revisionist WWI history books is online, as is Alex Ross's okay, so-so, he's-done-better piece on Bjork. For Oliver Sacks' holy-moly-fascinating article on differing perceptions of the passage of time, you'll have to catch a cold, get someone to go to the magazine store for you and bring you back a copy, and curl up under a blanket with a mug of hot tea.

Oh, and Parizeau? Whatevs.

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