LI is swimming against the current of duty today – reviews to finish, papers to edit, clothes to sort through, and cross your fingers for that last check in the mail. So all the pretty things we had to say about Coriolanus are going to have to take a back seat. Shit. In place of commentary on the Romulus and Remus of War and the State, we can only recommend the knee breaking tackle of a review in , the LRB of Christopher Hitchens book on Tom Paine (the very existence of which LI, by the way, bitterly resents – Paine does not deserve to be kidnapped by an imperialist tool with a bungalow Bill vocabulary. Hitchens sticks onto the book a dedication to the man who is currently conferring with the leaders of Iran, Talabani, thus doubling the insult - a book dedicated to a warlord, written by a buffoon, about a man who put the crusher, the kneelock and the backflip on both types).
Also, our plans for a NYC LI-orama are on track. We’ve received some heartening emails, some threatening phone calls, and the FBI has proposed photographing all participants! The time will be Monday, Dec. 4, at 6:30, at 7b, a bar that apparently fell so in love with iteration that it named itself after its location, at the corner of 7th St and Ave B. LI and our far flung correspondent, Mr. T., will try to get a table. LI can be easily recognized, since I look like Joan of Arc at the moment – or, rather, I will be the only man in the joint who looks like he mistakenly thinks he looks like Joan of Arc. Also, there will be a red baseball cap with the slogan, Sipahi on guard, on the table, for those not gifted with the ability to see what people think they look like – out of towners, this latter group, surely.
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ps - hey, there has been a flurry of maybe I'll be theres, so I am psyched. Literati, I tell you - or at least one translator and one editor. Plus a legendary commentor - guess who. So, if the idea of being in a bar (not a smoky one, alas! they've swept away the bare, ruined cancersticks of yore, in an attempt to destroy all intellectual life in NYC) with an adenoidal mockingbird/molting raven such as LI is painful, there are other, much more interesting people to meet!
I'll make Mistah Scruggs a Thanksralphing Pie and we can eat it if he'll come: I won't mind Thanksralphing since ralph didn't win this time.
B-but it is closer to St. Nick's day than St. Ralph's. One of the few saints that seemed to have a good time on the way to his beatification --
no, I take that back. The joys of martyrdom are not to be sneezed at.
i know--but it is not easy to please such as Mistah Scruggs, so we can call it one thing and think another, much as is done in many other parts of the world. I've decided to make this anyway (it's an Italian Xmas thing), as it was highly popular 3 years ago at a birthday party--and y'all can praise me to high heaven, especially since I have recently indisposed...Mistah Scruggs probably wants a savoury Squirrel Pot Pie, but I have not inherited my Aunt Mattie's talents in that direction.
I don't know why you think everybody knows what Ms. Arc looked like, so we'll depend on the Ransom of Red Cap across a crowded room.
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