As The Render Is To The Building,

Regard Yourself As A Small Corporation Of One. Take Yourself Off On Team-building Exercises (long Walks). Hold A Christmas Party Every Year At Which You Stand In The Corner Of Your Writing Room, Shouting Very Loudly To Yourself While Drinking A Bottle Of White Wine. Then Masturbate Under The Desk. The Following Day You Will Feel A Deep And Cohering Sense Of Embarrassment.

Just As The Blurring Between Childhood And Adulthood Has Produced The Kidult, So The Stretching Of Middle Into Old Age Has Fostered Another Peculiar Chimera: Septuagenarians With Apoptosis Sporting The Depeche Mode.

Death, The Real Simile For Disease - For When We Are Ill, Do We Not Always Feel Like We Are Dying, Even If It's Only A Little? - Remains, Despite Our Secularism, The Most Metaphoricised Phenomenon Of All.

I Loathe Computers More And More, So I Have One I Can Shut Down And Shelve Like A Book.

There Can Be No More Thrilling Idea Of Intimacy That Connecting With Someone Through The Agency Of The Written Word. Here We Meet, On The Page, Naked And Unadorned: Shorn Of Class, Race, Gender, Sexual Identity, Age And Nationality. The Reader I Seek Is A Tautology, For He/she Is Simply Exactly The Person Who Wants To Read What I Have Written...