On Truth, Amongst Other Things

It occurred to me this morning, sitting at my breakfast table, chipped mug in hand, that people only write me letters to inform me that I am in some way mistaken. I should dearly love, one fair day, to receive the following correspondence:

Mr. Riecke,

I have just finished reading one of your excellent articles, and am compelled (nay, driven) to tell you that every fact you present therein is coated in a healthy layer of correctness. How very wonderful of you to embrace truth in such a masterful manner! If only more critics were quite so genrous when it came to exactitude. Bravo!

One day, maybe…

[speaking of mean-spirited letters, allow me to remind my gentle readers that all mail received by Underneath the Bunker between 2004-2008 was recently collected here. Read on, read on, in majesty!]

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