As I prepare to visit the city that drove me to insanity, my brain is saying one thing, "why exactly am I going?". Well. For love of the game, dear reader. I love to play quiz and there's a pop culture tournament holding court Saturday in Oxford much like a witches sabbath. The Pixies was the book that summed up Oxford with its anarchy, its satire, dripping with black paint and wiggling its little demonic tongue; I'm not going to lie, I kind of love it. Its darkness. Its middle-fingers darting impossibly around like the arms of Kali. That said, I realise this is a base book and so I wouldn't luxuriate in it or anything; just as we celebrate Halloween every year, mocking the things we fear, I guess we have to celebrate Oxford.
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