I love April 1 on a2k unadulteratedly.
For me on the west coast of the US, and more recently within sight of the so-called Rio Grande, if I am on a2k in the late evening on March 31st, I see intimations of grandeur or grandfunk, and then I don't just sign off as I watch it develop.
It's a complete pleasure, a roll around the implausibility of our seriousness at the same time it reasserts it, community-wise; we let go to play this day.
All that takes work to support it. Reminds me in a way of mardi gras in Guadalajara or anywhere else.
Signed,
Cleopatra (since I forget last year's name for me)
