There are so many great books I’ve never read. I keep writing, trying to add more books to the pile (unsuccessfully, to date) and I wonder why. Wouldn’t it be easier to try to read the great books instead of laboring to add a tiny voice to the pool? I doubt I’ll quit, at least not this year. A few days ago, I started reading Henry Miller. He is both profane and sacred, vulgar and cerebral, deadly serious and gut-busting funny. Here is a paragraph t makes me laugh every time I think about it. It just seems so ridiculous and perfect that he says “fuck a duck” here. Enjoy.