Well, it’s almost time I gathered the elves, put on my red suit, leather boots and big-assed belt, and start calling Ho ho ho! And you just KNOW that’s a sex allusion that has nothing to do with the holidays, right? Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Joyous Kwanzaa, Happy belated Diwali, Festive Yule, and whatever else I’m supposed to say. I may post a few times over the holidays, so feel free to check in or set your rss feed, but I’m really really going to try to NOT post and set my blogging batteries back in the charger for a while.

The new Joy of Sex purportedly considers women to be “participants” in sex instead of “recipients” of sex… hm… Fascinating, Captain… What’s next? The vote?

TV memoirs are the big thing this season

The three best cities for booklovers

Lynne Cheney plans to write James Madison bio (husband Dick will retire to private ranch near the border where he can practice his evil all day in a fresh, open field)

Chicklit morphs into Cooklit

Interview with a book binder

Why publishing’s failing: no confidence in readers makes them dumb things down

British poet laureate sighs out a protest against library closures (man, he looks tired.. I can’t wait to get him back to writing real verse again instead of commenting on every literary story that comes down the… …. … … … … … … please, pass me that rope, and tell my family I love them…)

eBook reader on a treadmill?

Scientists (those clowns of the white coat world): Oliver Twist was a lying little manipulator

More bad layoffs news at Random

And for your viewing pleasure: John Denver and the Muppets perform his poem “Alfie the Christmas Tree” Man, I so wish I had those glasses. I’d just stare at people with wide eyes all the time and my lips slightly parted until they grew uncomfortable and left. It’d be the greatest social weapon of all time.