|Humorous New Yorker column that begins by describing one of the more iconic images of our generation:|
A screeching comes across the sky.Later:
It was the best of times, it was the first of times, it was the age of ice, it was the age of lava, it was the epoch of large sloping foreheads, it was the epoch of dictabirds and monkey traffic signals and woolly-mammoth shower massages. All the modern inconveniences.
July 28, 2006
Meet the Flintstones
Posted by TS at 9:32 AM