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Nazi bowling leagues, autogyros, disappearing and reappearing lamps, all interspersed with silly songs and the occasional pig rescue—it can only mean one thing: we read Thomas Pynchon's Shadow Ticket.
Nazi bowling leagues, autogyros, disappearing and reappearing lamps, all interspersed with silly songs and the occasional pig rescue—it can only mean one thing: we read Thomas Pynchon's Shadow Ticket.
