Little Porcelian cup in which biting acids could be mixed

Yes, that is the title, and no it didn't occur to me to figure out what that is referencing until this very moment-fear not, I'll look it up soon.
This is an amazingly well-written essay by Michael M. Kaylor. I hate his points, and I hate his ambiguous stance on moralizing and condemning - but I see myself caught up in excellent organization and phrasing that shows real attention to detail.
Therefore, it is an excellent essay, written by an ambiguous person who over estimates the importance of sex.

Oscar Wilde's Decorated Books

I read a lot of long, boring books. This book is, additionally, a mess to read. I don't know if any of the information was offered for a reason or a point, but there was a lot of it, thrown together under the guise of a book. The overall impression is that I still know almost nothing about core concepts the book initially pretended to be about, and my vocabulary of pompous words has run sobbing from the room.

Update: Why no updates...

Not only have I been stuck doing a completely useless paper for school, but I've been distracted with an upcoming move.
Although it didn't do you, my alleged readers, any good, I've been writing to you from Las Vegas, Nevada (Vegas, Baby!). Wouldn't guess that someone so boring would live in such a shiny place, huh? Raised there though, go figure. Anyway, N is going to accept a job in Portland, OR, and we're set to head up there in August. Today we went to Powell's books. Expect a lot on Pater.
So anyway, right now I'm celebrationally drunk half away from today and exceedingly excited.

Cheers,
Civel