I like escapist fiction, whether it be PG Wodehouse, Miss Read or Dorothy Sayers' novels.
It's like a photograph of a rabbit. Put it in the photo editor, extrude the colors, fade the borders, add fx like oil paint and watercolors. Soon life looks as if it looks the way that life should be lived. You can't quite hutch this particular form of rabbit, but the warmest regard sometimes arises from a visit to its meadow.
I daydreamed today about a thing I consider inevitable--the rise of a Creative Commons sharing culture, in which everyone who wishes creates, everyone who wishes consumea, and the fun, rather than the money, is the thing. From each, according to her whimsy. To each, according to her whimsy. This kind of sharing culture is my particular velveteen rabbit, and I'd like to see it live and breathe and become just as real as if were made of flesh and blood. Small hops, for now. But giant leaps, maybe someday.