Embarrassing confession time: not only do I regularly confuse Arthur Miller with Norman Mailer, but I also have been conflating Norah Vincent with Sarah Vowell. Oops. Well, at least I managed to *not* give my sister the cross-dressing lesbian journalist's latest socially subversive performance-art piece for Christmas. Lucky for me, it didn't come out in time. Which reminds me, I need to get around to finding my own copy of the Wordy Shipmates to read.
In my defense, they're both semi-comedic writers with last names starting with "V" who've written for Salon, which is probably where I got the idea that they were the same person. Yes, I used to read Salon.
I told you I used to be a very bad Republican.
h/t Glenn Reynolds.
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