Thanks so much for your kudos, Drury, but I do want to wag my shaggy finger (well, it's really a paw - ah, and therein lies a tale) at you in disapproval for even beginning to worry about the number of voice cards you submit to Archipelago. And that leads me to Stuie's Archipelago Theorem #1:

"When we begin to worry about the number or length of our voice cards, then we are in trouble."

One of the myriad beauties of Archipelago is that it helps enable us to become engaged and impassioned and excited about people and subjects. It enables us to make contact, to drag ourselves out of the torpor of ourselves. In our dizzying technological, overly scheduled, rushed, stressed out world, it's a way to sort of sit around the kitchen table with a cup of coffee like Donna Reed after the kids and Carl Betz have been packed off to school and work; or on the porch plucking a quiet guitar with Andy and Aunt Bea, Barney and Opie; or to leave t.v. la la land entirely and to just sit on the stoop or stretch out on the fire escape in the big city or on the pickle barrels on Main Street and just chew the fat. To slow down, to hang out and to make contact with others. That's inherently healthy, and it's a major thing that Archipelago is about (hence my opposition to making modems mandatory Archipelago future).

To start worrying, to stress out about the number of voice cards you submit goes against all that I babble about above. It's the beginning of censoring yourself. Don't do it, Drury, don't do it. Good gravy, Archi-partner, haven't you learned this simple lesson from those toucans, minna birds, and parrots you help - Squawk, and the world squawks with you.

Keep talking, Drury, it's music to my ears. I clap my paws for you.

[Editor's note: Hear! Hear! ]