Occasional Holy Man, Indifferent Bassist, Expelled Philosopher, and Maladroit Luthier Who Offers Stray, Provocative, and Insouciant Thoughts about Religion, Archaeology, Human Foible, Surfing, Interesting People, and Quirky Music. "Sent down" from Oxford. [Also, "alot" is not a word.]
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Now Could I Drink Hot Blood [Relax, It's From Shakespeare]
Hamlet, Act III, scene 2, as a matter of fact. Read the article linked below and see if you don't feel the same way.