Meanwhile, there's been a lot going on at the Facebook group. If you're not up for the avalanche of eye candy at The Coffee Experiment (“Coffee in Lisbon with Fernando Pessoa”), you might read an excerpt about Pessoa's heteronyms from Nom de Plume: A (Secret) History of Pseudonyms .
Then there's Colson Whitehead's “Occasional Dispatches from the Republic of Anhedonia”:
I was gonna play in the Big Game and give it my best shot. It was not the National Series of Poker, it was the World Series of Poker, and I would represent my country, the Republic of Anhedonia. We have no borders, but the population teems. No one has deigned to write down our history, but we are an ancient land, founded during the original disappointments, when the first person met another person. I would do it for my countrymen, the shut-ins, the doom-struck, the morbid of temperament, for all those who walk through life with poker faces 24/7 because they never learned any other way. For the gamblers of every socioeconomic station, working class, middle class, upper class, broke-ass; the sundry gamers 12 stories below, tossing chips into the darkness; for the Internet wraiths maniacally clicking before their LCDs in ill-lit warrens in Akron, Boise, and Bhopal, who should really get out more; for all the amateurs who need this game as a sacred refuge once a month, seek the sanctuary of draw and stud, where there are never any wild cards and you can count on a good hand every once in a while. For Big Mitch and Methy Mike, Robotron and the lady with the crimson hair, the ones who would kill to go to Vegas and will never make it there, my people all of them. Did I sound disdainful of them before? It was recognition you heard. I contain multitudes, most of them flawed.
Plus, I've always wanted to wear sunglasses indoors.
The whole thing is available for free and you can read it from anywhere in the world.