The Cynics Are Correct The Sense Of

I Don't Think In Terms Of That Bizarre Tautology 'value For Money' In My Literary And Journalistic Work - And Nor Will I In My Academic Role. However, If I Don't Believe I'm Helping My Students Towards A Fuller And More Empowering Relationship With The World, Then I'll Resign.

Well, I Wanted To Be A Philosopher, Which Is The Idlest Occupation In The World. I Wanted To Be Involved In Abstract Thought, But Because Of Various Problems With The Authorities I Wasn't Able To Pull That One Off. A Lifetime Of Idleness In Academia Would Have Really Suited Me. So I Was Thrown Out, As It Were. Other Than That, There Seemed No Possible Idle Occupations, So Writing . . . Although Writing Isn't Exactly Idleness. There's An Enormous Tension Between Indolence And Languor.

A Very Beautiful Young Woman Once Asked Me To Sign Her Breasts. That Was Back When I Was A Hip Young Thing - It's Been All Downhill Since Then.

I Think I Now Understand Why It Is That The Young Are So Very Nostalgic. They Have So Little By Way Of Personal History That They Polish It Up And Make It Shine Like A Treasured Heirloom.

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?