Nothing to see here. Just felt like using that title, is all.  And you gotta admit, it was almost worth it. **** update: Count Cockula Rules!

This poem takes forty-two seconds to read, more or less — which, when you stop to think about it, is roughly the time it takes for the edges of an egg to brown and crisp, particularly when it’s being fried (as eggs should be) in      genuine butter. But unlike that fried egg, this poem is unlikely to repeat on you, or drip yolk on your tie, or cake itself to

…and was alerted to the fact that Dr Frisch, who yesterday evening emailed me and asked me to take down a commenter’s link to an Arizona newspaper article that featured her photo, has shown her appreciation by posting a picture of me as “Count Cockula.” Our email exchange from last evening: Hi Jeff. You allowed someone to post a picture of me at home. Given the many, many threats I

The site is somewhat stable, but I’m having problems with the comments.  My host is working on that as we speak.  In the meantime, I’m going for a walk with the kid.  Back in an hour or so.

For those of you who haven’t seen this Inside Higher Ed piece, take a look.  Then blink, and look again.  Does the story as it appears at Inside Higher Ed match the version of events we all watched unfold over the last few days?  Anyway, I responded in the comments there, but my comment has yet to appear, so I’m going to post it here while I’m still up and