Thanks for the kind birthday messages, everybody. I had a great day. Joan & I went to the Frick Collection to gaze at our favorite Vermeers, Franz Hals, and J.M.W. Turners, not to mention checking out a comprehensive display of the New Testament drawings of Domenico Tiepolo, which were completely new to me.
Evidence that a Black Hole leaves a dent in space-time "just like a dimple in one's favorite spot on the sofa."Right, that's precisely the homey metaphor that immediately occurred to me. Isn't anybody else alarmed by alterations in reality as we perceive it? i mean, it is all about me, isn't it?
Bill Maxwell always wanted to teach journalism at a historically black college, but after only two years, he quit, disillusioned. Judging from the comments of many of my professor friends, his story wouldn't have been all that different at any land grant university, either.
Somehow, the November issue of Technology Review made it to the top of my Empire State Building pile of unread magazines and I happened upon this fascinating recollection by Freeman Dyson about working for the Operational Research Section during WWII.
The Beeb censored Shane MacGowan's "Fairytale of New York" for its use of a slur.
Sam Leith argues that Auntie mistook a slur for a swear-word—an unforgivable sin in the maidenly world of journalism.
Not bloody likely, says Michael Dirda. A scant 12 years after his death, you're unlikely to find even his most lauded novel, Lucky Jim in bookstores, libraries, or on friends' bookshelves.