Oh, That Dismal Science!

 To give you an idea of his character: when he popped the question, the enraged question popped right back.

Porridger’s Almanack (Breakfast of Ganglions)

I also discovered something else about my nose. It didn’t like smelling formaldehyde and dead frogs. Before I finished my dissection, I did have to be excused while I went to the boys’ room and threw up. I also swore to myself I’d never eat frog legs, which brought up another question: What do they do with the rest of the frog when they take off his legs for frying? I was a deep thinker as a young man.

— Lewis Grizzard, If I Ever Get Back to Georgia, I’m Gonna Nail My Feet to the Ground.

Per a discussion yesterday-ish which touched upon Music as Commodity: If Music be a subsidiary discipline to Economics, there is no question that the supply of Henningmusick easily outpaces demand.

And, twelve years ago today, I tweeted: Does the world need a piece for soprano and clarinet in A? To hell with what the world does, or does not, need—I’m writing it.