In a perfectly balanced world, a graphic design theorist would geek out over this title while listening to Miles Davis' "Birth of the Cool."

"To diagnose and prescribe the right treatment, one needs experience and a knowledge of the anatomy of a book."

"Whatever the party -- wherever the place, whoever the guests -- I can truthfully say I have yet to give a dull one."

Swatches of polyester textiles add a thrilling tactile dimension to the book-artifact. (Nice colours, too.)

The burden of history? How about a single volume the weight of a brick, containing over 2500 solemn portrait photos of long-dead Canadian white men with mustaches.

The "science" of predicting female character traits according to breast shape is dubious to begin with; when you strip off the dustjacket, it gets downright gratuitous.

What's the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the phrase, "... a Soviet-published survey of mid-'60s book design" -- ?

Even bibliophiles can be seduced by insolent self-assurance.

The seeds of weeds: their creeds and misdeeds.

From the vest pocket of a jet-setting leprechaun.

In video game years, this book is 3,000 years old.

"Since the Haberule Character Count Scales and Conversion Chart are scientific in principle, your Haberule Visual Copy-Caster will always remain up-to-date."

Elusive bibliographic quarry: a phrasebook to a language that doesn't exist.

"If you mean to speak about pigs, or local government finance, or the poetry of Wordsworth, or abstract painting, you must know pigs, finance, Wordsworth, or abstract painting thoroughly well, and have some strong feelings about them."

The first person to find a coherent theme linking these titles wins an all expenses paid vacation to Girard, Kansas.

"In addition to sincerity, another qualification a budding dowser must possess is absolute confidence, combined with a certain aggressiveness of outlook."

The most intoxicating book of the week, from a strictly biblio-aesthetic point of view:

Some items deserve superlatives: this tiny, obscenely-illustrated field guide to "breast types" is the CRUDEST and MOST OFFENSIVE pamphlet we've ever handled.

An aesthete with a sweet-tooth for midcentury graphics was overheard in our shop describing the gift books of Peter Pauper Press as "the liqueur-filled bon-bons of letterpress culture."

But if an activity is really that wholesome, can it still be FUN?