Links without the Usual Side Dish of Fatuous

So far, I've been telling myself I could succeed with the manuscript while still behaving almost as usual, but I can't. This week won't be normal, and I'll be less normal than ever, but it can work and it will. I cannot abandon La Blog, and do not wish to, but my attentions will be less devoted. You'll probably prefer it.

Here's a proposal that I agree will help people get much cheaper, catastrophic health insurance. It's based on leveraging interstate markets and competition, whoda thunk I'd like
that?

Leaving on a faucet by the gallery staff's backroom sink isn't hyperaware social commentary, it's simply laziness and BAD ART. I have a dripping refrigerator and ever-running toilet which I had planned to get fixed, Now, I believe I'll stage an exposition of conservation satire.

This is a wonderful article on why libraries still need physical books. I had intended to save it until I could elaborate with my own serendipitous discoveries of ephemeric bookmarkery and marginalia and to add my opinions of the thrilling and necessary kinesthetic engagement with subject matter, not to mention my commentary on the doom of books too nichebound to be scanned electronically but that are, nonetheless, the product of years of worthy effort. Conversely, much of the original content online- like this for example- comes without extensive footnotes, appendices, or figures. Much of what's free online is the result of seconds or minutes. I don't feel like an explorer or treasure hunter finding even a great new site. But a book, especially a neglected, forgotten one ignites the imagination. I want to touch the aesthetic and thoughtful product of serious obsession and thorough editing. That's worth studying.

Online research has become essential for speed and scope, but not depth. Why would you cripple other equally or more valuable resources in its favor rather than incorporating it as an enhancement? I can't believe the perception of byte versus book exists for true scholars who are greedy for access to whatever goodies they can get. The book's prototypes, unlike our earliest electronic playback media, have lasted for millenia, and are still usable today. Doesn't that kind of continuing robustness tell us something about the format?