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I was overseas with a guy who promised to write his wife every day. He was
on an unaccompanied tour. He called his letters to her The Daily Bulletin,
after the base newsletter telling what time the parade was Saturday, and so
forth. When Area Beautification Week started (hoe the fire lanes). What bars in
the village were off limits.
Bulletin from bulletino, the diminutive of bulla, as in
papal bull. The bulla was a seal, and a papal bull had the Pope's ring pressed
in hot lead. His chop.
To me, a writer has a voice. Pipes. A set of chops. His authenticity
derives from his character. Is you is or is you ain't an existentialist?
Like William Blake. Go and see for yourself. Report back what you find.
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