Reading and... reading

Good lord, I never meant you to actually read any of it but the part dealing with Theodore W. Dwi--. Just think how much trouble his putative heirs could have saved if his parents had only named him Ted, straight up. Well, if you enjoyed that, you may enjoy law school--though I doubt it.

What's David Parker doing working at Bloomberg's party? Does he have some kind of job at City Hall?

Continuing with our St. Anns alumni watch, Meghan O'Rourke has an article today in Slate, where she takes it to William Faulkner thusly:

Within the first few pages the narrative had moved forward, back, and sideways in time. I hadn't grasped these time shifts last night, and no wonder: Sometimes they were set off by italics, sometimes not. Plus, the early pages described the actions of no fewer than 10 characters whose lives were intricately bound up with one another. Their interrelationships were clearly crucial to understanding the dialogue. But they were never (God forbid!) explained by our author, who ... appeared to have an aversion to writing sentences like "The Marquis went out at 10 o'clock."

That's St. Anns for you--I feel that most postmodern critics would embrace Faulkner's art for art's sake approach--but we're bleeding edge enough to criticize Faulkner for being too unconventional. It's like one of those fashion cycle events, where suddenly clothing from the seventies becomes hip again. We're way ahead of the curve.