I’ll see your cast-ironic Skillet Surprise, Dan, and raise you one cracked NR yolk out of Shakespeare’s Omlet:
The cover of the magazine’s Christmas issue for 1986 sported a large olive-branch-tendering dove soaring hundreds of miles above the earth, with a satellite sidekick nearby.
The banner announced the Jack Kemp headliner within: “PEACE ON EARTH: The Space Shield Now.”
That the same issue ran within its back-of-the-book section a 3300-word essay of mine, “The Fourteenth Colony,” between whose every pair of outwardly left-lancing lines lay a bohemian critique of the US right-wing press, has my inner Larry the High-Table Guy smirking, “I don’t care what your party yolks are, that’s runny right there.”
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I’ll see your cast-ironic Skillet Surprise, Dan, and raise you one cracked NR yolk out of Shakespeare’s Omlet:
The cover of the magazine’s Christmas issue for 1986 sported a large olive-branch-tendering dove soaring hundreds of miles above the earth, with a satellite sidekick nearby.
The banner announced the Jack Kemp headliner within: “PEACE ON EARTH: The Space Shield Now.”
That the same issue ran within its back-of-the-book section a 3300-word essay of mine, “The Fourteenth Colony,” between whose every pair of outwardly left-lancing lines lay a bohemian critique of the US right-wing press, has my inner Larry the High-Table Guy smirking, “I don’t care what your party yolks are, that’s runny right there.”