He recited a Yeats poem in a thick Irish accent, smashed a coffee mug, and then began reading from the Cluetrain Manifesto, a decade - old Internet marketing treatise about the power of communities.
Many an evening, before and afterward, he would sit in our living room after dinner and respond to the invitation to
recite some poetry ¯ especially
Yeats ¯ and he would demur, and wisecrack, and then launch out into thirty or forty minutes of long ballads he had committed to memory.