On 21 years of using Markdown — and in hopes of at least 21 more.
The Last Days of the Southern Drawl:
Recent studies suggest I’m part of a trend: Young people are losing their southern accents. By the end of my life, there may be no one left who speaks like my father outside the hollers and the one-horse towns.
I’m part of the trend too: I certainly have a Southern accent, but it’s not as pronounced as it was when I was younger, and I profoundly regret that.
On the plus side, though, a Southern friend of mine sent me this: Redneck Shakespeare. A thing of great beauty.
Exotic Botany… (1804), by James Edward Smith
I wrote a post for my Buy Me a Coffee supporters on the importance of redundancy in one’s stupidity-prevention system.
I’ll be offline for the next week or so as I try to finish a complete draft of my Sayers biography, but as I ride into the sunset I’ll share the news that Dan Wang’s annual letter is back, after a year’s hiatus during which he published an excellent book. Ciao for now!
Dictating a passage of my Sayers bio to my computer, I uttered the name “Bertie Wooster.” The computer rendered that as “Birdy Worcester.” I now want a canary I can name Birdy Worcester.
I wrote about design amnesia.
Happy 90th birthday to Sandy Koufax, who became my favorite baseball player when I was eight years old. And that never changed.