Thursday, January 03, 2008

"...and he breathed his last."

Over the past year, I've gone big for the Flashman series of novels, whose protagonist is a skamp and a rake and a cad, in those days when bosoms heaved, and such words meant something. As I sat reading the eighth installment on a Bullet Train speeding west, the author of the series, George MacDonald Fraser, was dying halfway across the world on the Isle of Man. In that instant, life became that much more ... modern.

On the turntable: Shakti, "Natural Elements"

On the nighttable: George MacDonald Frasier, "Flashman and the Dragon"

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