GRATITUDE UPDATE. I remain humbled by the collection Jay Brida took up for me last week. I want you good people to know that the coin toss came up heads, so I did not exhaust the proceeds on one final, glorious round of hookers, blow, and suicide, despite the urgings of my army of hangers-on.

No, I'm in a nice sublet now, in the East 60s, of all places -- right where I worked in the late 70s. In some ways the neighborhood hasn't changed much: it still has lots of weird little shops selling replicas of Etruscan bronzes, giant, vaguely Asian vases, and other things rich people liked 50 years ago. As a young punk I hated that swells-in-amber ambiance, but now I find it charming. At least these people don't go chasing trends -- they're too comfy. (Lot of wine shops here, too.)

Both my lungs and my outlook are much, much better. I'm cooking meals, doing work, and scrabbling after opportunities like someone much younger and dumber.

So thanks again and all around -- first, to Jay for conceiving and doing the thing, and most ably; we've discussed it, and he will be taking down the Edrosothon PayPal button soon, and devoting his spare time to composing his Jean Hersholt Humanitarian Award speech. If you still want to give me money, I've added my own PayPal to the alicublog sidebar. Great for late-night drunk-donating!

I also thank my friends around the internet who spread the word, including James Wolcott, Tbogg, the Sadlynauts, John Amato, Scott Lemieux, Ian Welsh, Gary Farber, Cogitamus, Susan of Texas, Scott "World-o-Crap" Clevenger, Batocchio, DJG-E at Balloon Juice, Tom Tomorrow, Nancy Nall, and probably some other people I've missed and whose names I'd like to know (Update: Like PZ Myers!). If PBS had a fundraising team like this, they'd be making $50 million versions of Thomas Hardy novels and giving their subscribers gift bags stuffed with cashmere scarves and iPads.

Mostly I'd like to thank the donors -- scores if not hundreds of them, most of whom gave amounts which, though not huge, probably represent more actual sacrifice than the bazillions the Koch Brothers ladle out every year. Their generosity has been both a help and a lesson to me. Jay has explained the logistical and privacy issues to me, so I'm only writing back to donors who added personal notes to their contributions. (If you sent me something without a note and would like some acknowledgement, drop me an email and I'll send you a "Whattaya Want, a Medal?" certificate suitable for framing.)

And on that note: It seems I'm ahead of the trend again, as several other wonderful bloggers have come down with a bad case of the brokes. Lance Mannion, one of the very few internet writers worth reading on cultural subjects (he's not just another wannabe Harry Knowles, he's Manny Farber with the stick out of his ass), is experiencing shortfalls. And Gary Farber, one of the most relentless bloggers of all time (now at Amygdala and Obsidian Wings), is putting up a brave front but I know for a fact that if you give him money he will spend it on keeping himself alive, which is a noble cause.

Oh, and Diane of Cab Drollery is on the verge of losing her home. One of the douchebags at The Jawa Report made fun of her request for money (despite the presence of a great, honking PayPal button on their own sidebar), which should double your incentive. It did mine; I just sent Lance, Gary, and Diane a little something. Because I understand that Getting therapy works best in combination with Giving therapy.