In the early ‘80s, E.B. White was an octogenarian widower. He’d want the company of a fan, right? “There’s one of me, at most, and there are ten thousand of you. Please don’t come”I FacebookTwitterPinterestWhatsApp Related posts web An octopus is a soft-bodied mollusc with three hearts that beat blue-green blood. It is also remarkably clever… web Economic equality seems like a very good thing. Too bad it tends to occur only under the most barbaric of conditions… web Few have played as central a role in the long, slow destruction of literary study as Stephen Greenblatt. And few have profited from it... web Want to test ideas about mutualism and self-interest? Try succeeding inside a cycling peloton…