As you can see, my right ear is higher than my left. Plus I’m a Pisces on the cusp of Aquarius. This makes me selfless, spiritual, strongly intuitive and attuned to the collective unconscious. How ironic then that I afford my life official purpose by fretting about bottom lines. Although it has its drama. You countersign some little piece of paper inscribed with serious numbers and for an instant you’re powerful. Then on another day without warning the stars align and hey, wow, I’ve just made a decision. How’d that happen?  Still, it gets old. I was meant to be an artist. 

On a more  positive note: my wife of long standing and I recently became grandparents for the first time. Delightful, scary. Now for sure you like me, right?

I eat and drink more than I should sometimes but try to exercise and keep my body mass index down and never forget about low density lipids, serum glucose, prostate specific antigens and the importance of using the cool sphygmomanometer I bought as well as what happens to losers who neglect to floss on a regular basis. Also the colonoscopy went brilliantly. Must do that more often. I have nothing friendly to say about decrepitude, dementia or death. Unlike some individuals I don’t recall any previous lives.

I created this odd little website on my own. I was going for a Noir effect. Here’s a secret: when I’m at home and nobody else is around I dress up like Barbara Stanwyck. Which presents problems since she was nowhere near a size twenty (in Paris make it a fifty-two, but there you’re in the same sensitive country where they call disabled veterans mutilés). Nonetheless I know it’s more than just another hallucination.

I’m interested in all sorts of stuff. History, politics. Cognitive science and the controversies surrounding artificial intelligence. (Is your brain a digital computer, or an analog signal processor? Careful how you answer: people can get emotional about this.) In part to keep my disputation skills honed and knowledge updated I’ve argued these and related subjects online in the company of other opinionated, aggressive misfits. It’s safer and less antisocial than getting into bar fights. Not that I’d do that. Unless of course it might help promote a book.

However, possibly I’m n0t a good person. At times I wonder. For instance a while back I saw a production of Othello and found myself rooting for Iago. Surely no more unprincipled villain has ever been invented. Yet there I sat, happily identifying with this nihilistic and vicious albeit charismatic malefactor. Even though Othello’s black and I was an early Obamite. But Iago’d been screwed over. Don’t you deny that. Dude, dig your moves. And let me learn from your mistakes.

Okay, maybe it’s because on occasion I too have misled people and cold-bloodedly manipulated them. After all it was them or me. Or there was some goal of larger benefit and they were in the way. Perhaps once or twice I felt I’d been slighted. One tires of taking crap. The fools. They believed I was doing them favors — oops, sorry … with the US economy in the tank we don’t want potential UK and Commonwealth readers feeling disrespected: favours.

Anyhow writing fiction could be a reasonable next step.