Back in the spoilsome comforts of Kodiak and about to fly south again, I trade friendly barbs with my skipper over the seven-day St. Matthew opening.

You can’t name it. It’s too big or evil or outside your experience. It’s also shit because it’s garbage, it’s waste material. But I’m making a whole big megillah out of this. What I really want to get at is the ordinary thing, the ordinary life behind the thing.

Often and earnestly I was pressed, if I were dry, never to think of tasting the lech water, which was not good, but to come up and get a drink; or if I was cauld, to come up and get a warm; or, if it were a rainy day, to come up and scoug a while.

For instance, in the article on Tim Berners-Lee, we have bulleted World Wide Web