As I settle in, this week before Halloween, to reread Ray Bradbury's magical
Something Wicked This Way Comes for the 30th time, I want to share a little Bradburian snippet from the December 1969 issue of
Playboy.
Is such a future charming or disappointing? Will people exile themselves in private experiences and forsake community, until driven by hunger to re-aggregate?
TOO LATE!
See you on Friday.
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