Introduction

Hey, well I've been noticing that everyone has a blog these days, so I thought it was about time that I get one. Here we go I guess. I have no clue who will be reading this, but it should be somewhat interesting if you think like me at all. Or just like to hear me rant. I expect that their will be lots of reading lists and book/music/movie reviews up here periodically as well as the occasional old-fashioned Adam P. Newman rant about something or other. You can always count on those. By the way, the title of this blog is taken from the poem [At last the secret is out] by W.H. Auden. If you don't know it, I will reproduce it for you at the end of the post. I have to say, on Auden, whether you like him or not, you have to admit that he has quite a deft lyrical touch. At least I think so.

[At last the secret is out]

At last the secret is out, as it always must come in the end, the delicious story is ripe to tell to tell to the intimate friend; over the tea-cups and into the square the tongues has its desire; still waters run deep, my dear, there's never smoke without fire. Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links, behind the lady who dances and the man who madly drinks, under the look of fatigue the attack of migraine and the sigh there is always another story, there is more than meets the eye. For the clear voice suddenly singing, high up in the convent wall, the scent of the elder bushes, the sporting prints in the hall, the croquet matches in summer, the handshake, the cough, the kiss, there is always a wicked secret, a private reason for this. -W.H. Auden