For those interested, I dug up a little history about the story and posted it over here.

And I didn’t really think about how topical tonight’s story was until I listened to the reading of it. But Villiers de l’Isle-Adam may have been a little cigar-tunneling heavyhanded in his symbolism in this story (just a smidge), but I’m thinking he might have been on to something.

And if you haven’t read L’Ève Futur, there’s no time like now. You can read it while waiting in line to be judged by the Panel.

And as I mention when reading tonight’s story, this alone makes today one of the best days anybody’s had, in a good long while (if not EVER). There are some real treasures here, among them, a wilderness guide from 1979 written not by an enthusiastic back-to-the-land trailblazer, but by a wondrously grizzled mind capable of gems like this:

At this point, I’d like to throw in a few words about the bright blue, red, dazzling yellow, and orange fabrics used in outdoor clothing, pack bags, and tents. Millions of hikers and backpackers wearing these gaudy colors are turning the wilderness into one vast Coney Island. You look out across a magnificent forested valley. Not a sign of humans anywhere. No? Look again. Over on the far side is a trail, and suddenly you see it — a moving bright red spot, followed by another, and then another, four altogether. It looks like a line of red ants marching along single file. Your vision of the vast wilderness is ruined. Had these hikers been wearing forest green, brown, or russet clothes and packs, they would never have been seen at that distance. When you enter an established campsite, what do you find? Maybe dozens of tents so brightly colored that they practically knock your eye out. This colorful practice is a relatively new phenomenon. The old idea was to wear colors and live in tents that blended and harmonized with the greenwood. I don’t understand these brightly colored “environmentalists.” They must be colorblind!

Of course, if he’d written this today, he’d be condemned for his impolitic prejudice against the colorblind. Know that I’m reprinting this passage for stylistic and training purposes ONLY, and by no means think that the colorblind population is incapable of selecting forest-appropriate outdoor clothing.

I’m sure by now you know what I’m talking about. And I’ll say this: I’m not going anywhere near that solar system again until you bring Pluto back. I mean it.

Until then, here is today’s story if you want to read it in French.

But it wasn’t easy! There’s surprisingly little to be found, even less in English, which meant there was even more legwork involved on this end to satisfy my personalitic, and now, snapping out of the fury, I regretfully inform you that a few minutes has become two hours. Admittedly, I do know marginally more than I did (whew), and behold!

So, self-satisfaction aside, who can tell me how to quell the urge to googliate everything that dares to cross the mind? Surely I’m not alone with this problem. Is this what they call a Cry For Help?

Tonight: Guy de Maupassant’s “Dreams;” it’s in plenty of books and plenty of Web sites, should you want to follow along you could maybe download it from somewhere as a text file to your iPOD.