Good gravy, people. As soon as I leave, that's when all the postings go up, huh?
So here's the scoop: I printed out about fifty little flyers that I Illustrator'ed, with some basic facts about Numerology (properly cited), along with a picture of J.A. Paulos's Innumeracy and one of Newmerology.
I showed up at Borders about 30 minutes beforehand: there are maybe twenty chairs there. Two old (sorry, they were old) and fat (as in actually morbidly obese) women were waiting.
I read about orangutans and lizards while watching all this.
At 6:45, Newmont shows up. He is, hands down, the sleaziest looking guy I had seen all day. Inexplicable oily & orangish tan. Nice suit, though. Newmerology must be lucrative. He starts handing out some sort of worksheet type paper to the now nineteen women and one man.
The whole mise-en-scene is just grim and unpleasant. The small crowd and the laminate-over-plywood table and me skulking behind a copy of
Spiny-Tailed Agamids and the mostly obsese crowd then fanning themselves with the worksheet and it's really depressing and I think about just going home.
So anyway as soon as Newmont starts talking to some Borders employee I start handing them the flyers, doing the whole "these are for you as well" kind of thing, "pass them to your neighbor" and so on, and I leave the rest on Newmont's lecturn/plywood-laminate table. Pretty much everyone seems really confused and is looking at one and then the other and then finally one woman in the back gets it and smiles at me and laughs understandingly and I can't for the life of me figure out why she's there.
Then I left. I'd heard enough of Newmont that morning.