Some weeks make me think of the Beatles; others the Clash. This week, it’s The Mothers of Invention:
What will you do if the people you knew
Were the plastic that melted,
And the chromium too?
One of the points of going on partial hiatus was to spend a summer without getting into any fights with people I was likely to run into, which, in the case of this Department, now means avoiding writing about the only thing everyone is talking about right now, bringing to mind the title of the album by Grace Slick’s first band, The Great Society:
“Conspicuous Only in its Absence.”
In my rare speaking appearances, when asked about the point of my writing, I generally cop only to the intent of writing a humor column. And at this point, that’s pretty much all that’s left right now, collecting various pieces of flotsam mostly for purposes of memorialization.