Another crazy weekend closes out another crazy summer. We moved Jack back to school on Saturday, dug up potatoes Sunday morning, then hung out with Marie's brother and his family on a pontoon boat just a quarter inch from the Indiana border. The latter was accompanied by, of course, one robust singing of Kid Rock's "All Summer Long" ("It was summer time in southern Michigan") and entirely too much vodka. I crawled out of summer the next day with six hours at the office and a smattering of napping, gardening, reading, writing, exercising, and TV watching.
This is too precious: Revolution against 'rich parasites' at utopian Burning Man Festival as 'hooligans' attack luxury camp. The gist: Real burners resent the fact that the posing elites are attending the Festival, so they attacked one of the luxury camps. In the Burning Man ethos, all people are equal, but some burners are more burners than others.
I've spent more time than I care to admit, thinking about the oxford comma. But this picture summarizes every argument against its omission better than anything I've argued: