They teach us we are living in a sham age of eminent mediocrities.
10 May 2014
Two shotguns, a double stove, a dishwasher, a microwave, a refrigerator, a washer, dryer, a sofa, a chair, a coffee table, a space heater, hand tools, a popcorn maker, three barbecue grills and a table were stolen between Feb. 1 and Friday from a residence on Alabama Avenue. . .
The New Madrid County Sheriff's Department is on the look out for a stolen BBQ grill from Marston. The United Steelworkers Union Hall in Marston reported the stolen grill on Monday. The grill is mounted on a trailer which was chained and locked to one of the building's columns. Both locks were cut and the grill was pulled away. The grill was last seen around 8 p.m. on Friday, May 2. . .
A Rogersville man returned home to find burglars had stolen a gas grill, stove, kerosene heater and refrigerator. .
A stainless-steel Kenmore four-burner gas grill with two propane tanks valued at $560 was stolen between 10:30 p.m. April 25 and 7:15 a.m. April 26 from the back yard of a home in the 1100 block of South Kenilworth Avenue. . .
Three sets of headlights were stolen and a grill from Land-Rovers parked at Hillendale on Lomeshaye Industrial Estate. Police believe there were three offenders, who climbed over a fence to get in. . .
04 May 2014
After dinner Barry would read his poems. Usually, he said, 'I'm not going to be an egotist tonight. I'm not going to read my poems.' And usually Désirée would cry, 'Oh do, Barry, do.' Always, eventually, he did. 'Marvellous,' Désirée would comment, 'wonderful.' By the third night of her visits, the farcical aspect of it all would lose its fascination for Sibyl, and boredom would fill her near to bursting point, like gas in a balloon. To relive the strain, she would sigh deeply from time to time. Barry was too engrossed in his own voice to notice this, but Désirée was watching. At first Sibyl worded her comments tactfully. 'I think you should devote more of your time to your verses,' she said. And, since he looked puzzled, added 'You owe it to poetry if you write it.'
'Nonsense,' said Désirée, 'he often writes a marvelous sonnet before shaving in the morning.'
'Sibyl may be right,' said Barry. 'I owe poetry all the time I can give.'
'Are you tired, Sibyl?' said Désirée. 'Why are you sighing like that; are you all right?'
Later, Sybil gave up the struggle and wearily said, 'Very good' or 'Nice rhythm' after each poem. And even the guilt of condoning Désirée's 'marvelous . . . Wonderful' was less than the guilt of her isolated mind. She did not know then that the price of allowing false opinions was the gradual loss of one's capacity for forming true ones.
- Muriel Spark, “Bang-Bang You’re Dead”.