Have you ever read about a book that sounds so good that you wished you were a Jetson, and could instantly summon it forth from a machine by pushing a button? Or wiggle your nose like Samantha on Bewitched? Or make it appear when you shimmy like Barbara Eden on I Dream of Jeannie? 1960s comedies were ripe with that sort of instant gratification cosmology. That's precisely how I feel about Check It While I Wreck It [first spotted at Ms.]


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