It occurs to me…

…some people might find it creepy that among the books I bought at an estate sale today was The Hour of Our Death, by Philippe Ariès, “a landmark history of Western Man’s changing attitudes toward death — and thus his perceptions of life itself — over the last one thousand years.”

The sale took place in an old church that’s now someone’s (but not the dead man’s) home. It was all books, enough to stock a small leftist store. While we vultures descended on boxes and boxes worth of socialist, communist, and generally anti-establishment literature, in another part of the main hall there was a TV set up.

It was playing a workshop. Given by the dead man. He lectured as we picked over his book collection.