Upon Substitution

Friends, the rhetorical familiarity of the Swillbilliana to which you are accustomed must be considered, to some extent, as its own reward. We don't claim to offer particularly new insights on the world, or even information that is particularly groundbreaking or hilarious or important.

What we do try to offer is a reassuring sense that water runs downhill, that the Swill is angry, and that the rest of the world is in its place.

Having said that, our own prose sometimes strikes us -- to appropriate Toni Morrison's phrase -- as the third beer: neither as refreshing as the first nor as reassuring as the second, and rather as that which exists to be consumed simply because it is there.

Well, for the next few days you'll be allowed to jump directly to the deeply loved fourth beer, because beer number three -- aka Your Struly -- is on a pilgrimage to Ottowa, where we intend to spread the gospel, collect some free fucking health care, enjoy a more-or-less-non-violent society, and pick up a case of Habana Club while we're at it.

For the next few days, therefore, you can't have us. But we offer you a fresh draught, a new smoke, a little bit of something something, the mastery and drift of s/he who shall remain Phredward.

Phredward: That's the name, wear it out with welcome.