Unearthed my In-Case-Of-Apocalypse stash of lit/poetry readers from Santa Cruz (!) Hundreds of dollars of theoretical and foundational texts arrayed in anime-pinks, molting-oranges, horror-reds. I feel like Cry-Baby when Iggy Pop gives him a new motorbike. God bless Dwight D. Eisenhower. God bless the draft-board. God bless credit card debt.