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Yesterday’s high point: this text message, sent from Paris.

From my pal D. Randall Blythe:

I am sitting outside in Paris @ cafe Les Deux Magots (waaaaay Hemingway!) having an espresso and getting ready to walk over to Gertrude Stein and Alice Toklas’ house, then on to where Joyce wrote a good part of Ulysses. There’s your geek stuff for the day. XO, DRB

Can I just say? How rad is it that one of my dearest friends in the world not only throws down as lead screamer for Richmond’s own Grammy-nominated metal band, but also gets me as the literature dork I am. (And who was also my very first regular reader, in this blog’s first incarnation, in 2003 or so.)

Love you, Randy. Have fun out there and get your butt back home to RVA safe and sound. (And note that I waited a full twenty-four hours before posting this. Wouldn’t have wanted you to get stalked by Parisian metal fans or whatever.)

Edited to add: The reason for his Paris trip was this.

  • That's just cool. You can't go wrong with metal and feminism.
  • I know, right!

    Any chance you're a fan of Otep? Seriously. Blisteringly awesome, politically charged, if not explicitly feminist then at least imbibed with all sorts of woman-power. (Lesbian power, even!)
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