We look again at relational theory, kiss Venn diagrams goodbye in the middle of the intersection of two circles, and then light a match in remembrance of the only thing of quality South Africa still produces; we can't kiss relational theory goodbye.
And then I come to think of people who seem to have had their eyes closed since I turned twenty two. People who have rites of passage. But I'll swallow the rest I have to say about that with a sip of coffee. It was my problem if I couldn't see just what being treated as another man's equal in my case means.
It certainly does mean I have a duty to have racial pride.
Firstly, then, my imagery is a necessary part of these writing exercises (funny to have to say that): I've tarred the files, so I can only look at the North Island; and it says, Not Interested.
Secondly, to be respectable without racial compromise, I must wind back to March; which is to recall some disreputable Englishmen whose immortality is something we must just accept as a matter of course: my only advice is, don't listen to what an Englishwoman tells you about an Englishman (funny to have to say that).
But let me see how my grass intersector is feeling today.
"Venn are ve going to vroom ze grass to make like ze men over ze zee?"