I’m sure no one remembers this post, or cares. But what I’m pretty sure was this book came into my hands in an Oxfam book shop in York. Of course I’d mis-remembered some details, and totally forgot the drunken writer. I probably imported some bits from other fluff I’d either looked at the night I didn’t buy the book when it was new, or found elsewhere, or just thought would make a better story. After all, I decided not to buy the book when I first ran across it, and when the York copy came into my hands, I soon knew why: I can’t read anything with basic punctuation errors of the sort I regularly and repetitiously explain to undergrads.

But it was in Oxfam, which is a good cause; I acquired it, read it in the tub to decompress from a very intense (and wonderful) conference, and left it behind. So it’ll probably turn up back in the Oxfam shop soon enough.

Hmm. Maybe I should write the version I came up with.

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