People Can Be Teachers And Idiots; They

What Is Any Achievement, However Great It Was, Once Time Itself Is Dead?

I Enjoy It Too Much - Even If I Knew I'd Never Get A Book Published, I Would Still Write. I Enjoy The Experience Of Getting Thoughts And Ideas And Plots And Characters Organised Into This Narrative Framework.

Even Galaxy-spanning Anarchist Utopias Of Stupefying Full-spectrum Civilisational Power Have Turf Wars Within Their Unacknowledged Militaries.

But It Was Pointless, It Was Stupid; He Thought About Thoughtless Things. If I Were A Seabird . . . But How Could You Be A Seabird? If You Were A Seabird Your Brain Would Be Tiny And Stupid And You Would Love Half-rotted Fish Guts And Tweaking The Eyes Out Of Little Grazing Animals; You Would Know No Poetry And You Could Never Appreciate Flying As Fully As The Human On The Ground Yearning To Be You. If You Wanted To Be A Seabird You Deserved To Be One.

In Theory, I Work An Eight-hour Day And A Five-day Week Which Means I Can Socialise With My Pals Who Mostly Have Normal Jobs Like Teaching And Computer Programming.