Phillip Johnson the PyroManiac returns to my relief.
I can't decide if PJ is the person I most want to hang out with at a pub or least likely person from which I would want to be sitting across in case I needed to be corrected.
I take that back. James White is the least likely person from which I would want to be sitting across in the case I needed to be corrected. I never want to be on the wrong end of Dr. White's argument, although I'm sure it could inspire another book for his growing list of titles: Conversations with a Semi-Pelagian Poopyhead. Or perhaps What's With the Boob in the Browser? (What can I say? I love the guy's books!)
And this guy, this guy, this guy, and this guy (in no particular order, fellas) would probably come before PJ in my pub-greeting order. No offense, Mr. Johnson. These guys actually think I'm funny on occasion.
I'd much prefer PJ sitting in front of his computer writing dazzling blog prose to entertain me each morning. He was definitely missed. It's been a dry two weeks, and the Pyro's not something you can easily quit cold turkey.