T J PriceFirst taught Latin by the Christian Brothers, and having picked up the odd lucky cent on Wall Street, T J became a bee keeper and tomato grower during the summer, and a reader of Cicero and Phaedrus through the drear winter months. In between sweet, weet clouds of Irish Flake and S. G. 1792, rising at dawn from a variety of comely Dublin briars, he does a little bit of scribbling in various idioms, but wastes not a single precious moment of unredeemable time, dear reader, in badgering you for your pennies. As for politics, what I say is . . .níor chaith mé an masc ní fuair mé an vacs. Read More Read Less