I Can't Really Articulate What I Feel.

One Is And Is Not In The Centre Of The Maelstrom Of It All.

Clinton's Hands Remain Incredibly Clean, Don't They, And Tony Blair's Smile Remains As Wide As Ever. I View These Guises With Profound Contempt.

I Found The Offer Of A Knighthood Something That I Couldn't Possibly Accept. I Found It To Be Somehow Squalid, A Knighthood. There's A Relationship To Government About Knights.

Do The Structures Of Language And The Structures Of Reality (by Which I Mean What Actually Happens) Move Along Parallel Lines? Does Reality Essentially Remain Outside Language, Separate, Obdurate, Alien, Not Susceptible To Description? Is An Accurate And Vital Correspondence Between What Is And Our Perception Of It Impossible? Or Is It That We Are Obliged To Use Language Only In Order To Obscure And Distort Reality -- To Distort What Happens -- Because We Fear It?

I Tend To Think That Cricket Is The Greatest Thing That God Ever Created On Earth - Certainly Greater Than Sex, Although Sex Isn't Too Bad Either.