"Think for a moment of another kind of culture, where nothing is edited..."

"...A culture where we're all so logorrheaic we haven't time for each other's words or books or blogs, where everything goes into the ether - and there's no sign that anyone reads it all. A culture that doesn't care about editing is a culture that doesn't care about writing. And that has to be bad."

- Blake Morrison, "Black day for the blue pencil" (an article in The Observer that deserves to be read beginning to end, if anything in the papers does this week).

After a throwdown like that, I proceed to post, why? There's something viscerally squeamifying about a word like "logorrhea" thanks to its obvious logocousin. Immodium will do nothing about the blogorrheaverse.

It's August 10 but really my summer has come and gone. The shadows are longer, the sun lower, on my bike rides to and from work. I've seen all of the people that I expected to see. It all went better than I could have imagined. Which makes think that August can have nothing left for me save every task I've been putting off.

Like this.

Yesterday the woman on the cash at Tim Horton's saw me coming and said to her co-worker: "Hey, 'Earl Grey' is here." And then she realized with palpable self-consciousness that she'd used their code name for me, in my earshot.

Note: I certainly don't object to being referred to as 'Earl Grey'. For one thing, it puts me one step ahead of Scotiabank in the CFL championship title sponsor racket. (Yes, that's the Earl's cup they play for.)

For those of you wondering how exactly to order me my hot beverage of choice, it's a large Earl Grey, single milk, no sugar.