The Hills Are Alive With Barbarian Cries

What a glorious day! I spent some of it at the harbour. Harassing young buds into flowering maturity.

Here’s something I’ve learnt: Children are midget adults. They are not kids. They have all the complex circuitry, but aren’t programmed yet.

Actually, I find adults a lot more annoying than kids. Adults like to play farcical games under the table. Or on top of it.

I think adults are tainted. I know I am by lots of random deviations and by the social pecking order that everybody has turned a blind eye to in the name of mediocrity.

But I love populating my books with characters ( then I can kill of the petty, annoying ones), but I must say that I’m not a social animal. If I was, I’d be living in an anthill, wouldn’t I?

Plus if we are social animals, why the hell are there all these No Trespassing signs in Maine? I’m getting mixed messages all the time when I look around me. On one hand everyone is told to yodel “sense of community,” and then in their next barbarian breath they scream “Get the fuck off my land!”

How’s a man to cope?

Spend time alone writing. Works for me.


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