This blog continues to lose steam. I don’t post nearly as often as I once did. Various reasons. Alas!
“There’s a hormone secreted into the bloodstream of most writers,” Francis Ford Coppola once said, “that makes them hate their own work while they are doing it, or immediately after.”
The posts linked to below are trifles from the last twelve months. I don’t hate any of them, yet. But it probably won’t be long.
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Lost Genius. A book review.
My Uncle Clarence. The text of something I read at my late uncle's funeral. Not to be confused with a eulogy.
Guitar Heroes, Pt. 2. Some stuff about guitars and guitarists – Ted Greene in particular.
Ted Nugent's Army. An embryonic flight of fancy. I could perhaps whip this into something more interesting...?
Stuff A Sock In It. Answers the question: how do you play guitar while everyone else is asleep?
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