"Self, what you should know is that Keene was under a killing
deadline
when he threw together that book. Had he not gone to press just two
days after *concieving*..."


Of course, my copy boy or my editor is responsible for this howler,
as I was on vacation in the antarctic, retracing the route taken by
Robert Scott. After eating all my sled dogs, I proceeded on foot to
the pole, completely forgetting that I needed also to get back! Blind
luck rescued me, as another fool soon reached the pole; I killed and
ate him, then used his sled dogs to reach the coast. While waiting for
my ship to return I rattled off a half-dozen chess books: Winning with
the Dunst/Fred/Hanheim/1 ...h6!/1 h3!/1.Na3! Only upon my return to
civilization did I discover that my spelling of "conceiving" had been
butchered by an overzealous/moronic editor! Now watch the Keene
ratpackers pile on.

-- hell bot