In this, his latest addition, Mr Sloane realises he is on a hiding to nothing concerning certain subjects and is a slave to the childlike urge to put on a cape and run down Howlands
pretending to fly...

"Ah...hello again you yellow bastards!
What's it like to feel useless? Aged and unloved? Mentally lost in a day-glo, 80's gameshow-like-fog of super-marionated nostalgia..?

Do you really want to know..? Wouldn't you rather be off somewhere reading some highbrow bloggers' theories on the morality of suicide bombing, or perusing through the musings of some wealthy, beautiful Asian bint, as she struggles with unrequited love and lust for the latest nokia video phone..?

...I wouldn't blame you...

...Wait a minute...Just who are you anyway..? Haha!

So, yes...this is my latest instalment in a thrilling roller-coaster ride that is this blog...What's it for, I hear you ask...I wish I knew...Well, I'm too disinfranchised and confused to devote any space herein to the pursuit of gaining personal enlightenment or truth...I'm just a fucking liar like you are! You know what I'm talking about...

...I sometimes just think life would be a lot fucking easier if I could just run into a telephone box, turning around while undoing the bottom two or three buttons on my duffle coat, bursting forth with one arm outstretched, coat flying out behind me - secured by the one toggle at the neck - and running down the road looking for old , discarded packets of Marlboro lights that I can pick up and crush in my fist while shouting out in a squeeky, yankee accent;

"Superman says no to cigarettes!"

...but life just ain't that easy is it...Unless you want a lifetime of Electric shock therapy, restaints and administered medication, you've got to pull you socks up, do your buttons up and register with the Inland Revenue...You've got to daily face rejection, disappointment and stare blankly at the face of the old fucker who's stealing your dreams away from you...from right there in front of you...

And all you can do is shrug your shoulders and say; "Oh well!", or "That's life!", or "Oh God, What's the point!"

Still, at least we can look forward to alleviating the pain with alcohol and guilt free sex...or if you ain't getting any, you can copy pictures, drawn when you were a child, of a misshapen lump of a superman and reflect on how prescient and far-sighted you were then...and how grotesque you are now...

"Cast away mere words, for words become stones..." - Haruki Murakami

"I'd give my world for a little piece of pie...fancy a bit?" - John Prescott

Adieu for now, dearhearts...see you in the sky..."