One last delighted glance at Sven

Sorry for the re-eructation, but Sven Birkirts' meditation upon blogs (noted here below) gets richer, funnier, the more rumination it receives. See, he does that fair and balanced thing, he pretends to find a few "virtues of the blogosphere" -- not that he bothers to note any. Then without ado he wheels out his Big Creaking Blunderbuss:

The bigger question, if we accept that these are the early symptoms of a far-reaching transformation, is what does this transformation mean for books, for reviewing, for the literary life? %$*#

That someone in 2007 deadpannedly advances the anadiplodic catacosmesis that the fate of the literary -- the art that foregrounds the defamiliarized, the fictive, the sign of the trope, the rhetorical panoply, the improper -- hangs upon how many goobers pick up and read the Los Angeles Times, the Chicago Tribune, the San Francisco Chronicle, and even here, in the city where America's literary culture was born, at The Boston Globe... is truly one of the most "LMAO-LMFTO-PMSL" events of humor to come down the pike in a very long time. Thanks, Sven!

(I would dare to say, for sheer hilarity, it stands shoulder to shoulder with:

1. JSTOR blocking human beings from human knowledge, and - close second -
   
2. Rupert Murdock buying The Wall Street Journal -

the three at one time are more than anyone (except maybe Melmoth) can bear.)