EVERY DAY IS SELF-PARODY DAY. So far in Decadence and Catholicism we have had three, count ’em three, figure skaters! Two young men for whom various people conceived homoerotic passions, and also Huysmans’s hagiography of St. Lydwina, skating’s patroness. I don’t even know anymore. My life is just a series of bad rhymes at this point.