As The Render Is To The Building,

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.

...catching A Glimpse Of His Rather Hippyish Form In A Mirror, He Wonders At This Atavism Of Apparel, Is It An Inversion Of Foetal Ontogeny, In Which The Phenotype Passes Through Previous Fashion Stages? Soon There Will Be Gaiters And Gloves...i Will Probably Die, He Thinks, Clad In Animal Skins.

I Write As Someone Who Has No More Time For Repressive Islam Than He Does For Repressive Christianity Or Judaism, But At Least Look At The Face In The Hijab - And Try To Imagine The One Beneath The Niqab - Before You Depersonalise Its Wearer.

You Don't Need To Know This - But Here Goes: Due To Some Acquired Infantilism, I Feel Compelled To Fall Asleep Listening To The Radio. On A Good Night, I'll Push The Frail Barque Of My Psyche Off Into The Waters Of Lethe Accompanied By The Midnight Newsreader - On A Bad One, It's The Shipping Forecast.

From Time To Time, As If Heaven-sent To Annoy, Someone Will Ask Me If I'm Self-disciplined When It Comes To My Work. I Usually Look Witheringly At Them And Snarl, 'what Do You Think?' I Mean, How Do You Imagine Anyone Writes A Quarter Of A Million Words A Year For Publication?