Sinister: Let's all meet up in the year 2000

[Will Porter]

I keep almost posting.
That is, I keep thinking of oh!-so-clever things to say, and then I start
to type it and it goes away or reveals itself to not be clever at all.
Hmm.

Someone said something about lurkers which, for reasons beyond the realm
of my knowledge, made me feel guilty for not saying anything.  Which in
turn made me feel guilty for the arrogance of thinking that all 1400 of
you would be remotely interested in what I might say in the first place.

I live in New York now (I think I mentioned it before).  One of the first
things anyone told me about living here was "You'll be amazed at the kind
of chicks you can pull here."  Actually, I may have read that in an
article.  Anyway, I was thinking about it, and it occurred to me that in a
city of nearly 9 million people, someone's /bound/ to like your stuff.
Though so far, they're not doing a good job of making it obvious.  Or
obvious enough, anyway.

I've been reading Go Ask Alice www.goaskalice.columbia.edu all day.  It's
such a great website.  A year or two ago, the American Library Association
got all sorts of flak for linking to it from their website for teens.

I haven't been reading lately.  This is (apparently) scandalous behavior
for a librarian.  The truth of the matter is this: I've never been a
particularly voracious reader.  This is due largely to my exceptionally
short span of attention (got a short little span of attention and oh, my
nights are so long), in tandem with an ever-present, nagging suspicion
that I could be doing something more interesting.  This latter affects
more than just reading, but it is particularly taxing to such, because of
reading's concentration-intensive nature.  My library's clientele, my
co-workers, my family, and damn near everyone I've ever told that I'm a
librarian cannot reconcile that reality with my reluctance (not
reluctance--reluctance comes loaded with mules on short ropes and children
spitting mashed peas; rather, inability) to read for extended periods, as
though somehow one has to incorporate the contents of every book in one's
vicinity in order to be comforted by their presence.

The state of my memory is such that I'd probably not remember much of them
anyway.

Laura Llew (isn't she swell?) said something or other about us boys who
occupy the non-skinny category.  Thanks, hon.  We need the compliments.
Strapping is an interesting adjective (and, in fact, also quite
interesting as a verb, though awfully dull as a noun).  I'm not sure I
know what it means.  You'd have to ask someone else if I'm strapping or
not, but thanks for the good press all the same, LL.

On that note, I gotta go.

adieu

will porter

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