[…] the storm wore gradually away, now and then only a faint after-clap grumbled in the distance […]

Happier in reascent, than in his fall mournful, and through all purifying spheres perfective, let the bard his harp restrung, chaunt […]

Wiley Brooks, the guru of Breatharianism, espouses a system of physical vitality by which one may stop eating and drinking entirely, and live, lichenlike, off light and air.

It seems plastic surgery for men is catching up in the lunacy stakes with the world of female plastic surgery, a place where you can fly to LA and get the shape of your vagina changed: what constitutes an appealingly shaped mimsy is something else to be filed under unanswered questions, next to the one about who wants a huge pair of balls.