In Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers, Harriet Vane asks Lord Peter Wimsey if he finds it easy to get drunk on words. He says, “So much so that I am seldom perfectly sober. Which accounts for my talking so much.” This blog is, for now, about words and being so drunk on them that I wander off on a path that barely intersects with whatever it is I’m supposed to be doing — a tangent, in other words. I can’t promise that it’s always going to be about the same thing because even my tangents have tangents. If you remember enough high-school geometry to know why that doesn’t make any sense, shut up and let me have my metaphor, okay?
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