YOTH in twilight.

Well, it's been a year, or some amount of time akin to a year, and I've learned a few things.

No, that's not true, but we did put up some posts and do stuff. Stuff, what kind of Stuff? The kind where you are sitting at home all safe and secure and suddenly I'm there, doing stuff? No, not that kind of stuff. I guess it was Poetry stuff.

I learned of and almost instantly rejected flarf! We left a few rooms slightly less clean than when we started. Then decided a shopping cart struck to a wall would look descent in the right sort of room and if that were true maybe someone will pull down a little bit of the light flarftastic.

I went to things, and saw them, and occasionally talked to people about them, and that sort of inspired the blog. The talking part, because there are a lot of books, and the books are good. We love the big lugs, er, books, book-lugs, uh, things with pages full of this stuff only better crafted and more coherent.

I got angry a lot, then we got angry, and the angry took over once, and them more and more, and now, well, now it is itself. So aught 7 will see The Year of the Hug marching onward in glorious glory, regaling you all with a little bit, hopefully slightly more than last year, of what is good and fun and happening in the world of literary readings. And side by side will be the Angry Hug, the ranting, scratching, huge bitey fang laden assessment of all that just can't wait for December 23rd. It's 2007, and we're gonna do stuff!