I Used To Find Myself Goofed Out

I'm An Anarchist. I'm Implacably Opposed To Heirarchical Systems Of Power And Control. I Also Mistrust Crowds, As They Often Operate According To Their Lowest Common Denominator. In Terms Of Evolutionary Psychology, The Crowd Is Very Close To A Herd Of Stampeding Wildebeest.

Some People Have Human Muses - Mine Is A City. I Feel A Startling Ambivalence Towards London, But For Better Or Worse My Work Has Come Utterly To Depend Upon It.

I Loathe Computers More And More, So I Have One I Can Shut Down And Shelve Like A Book.

I'm Very Happy For Whatever Plaudits Might Come The Way Of My Work, But I Never Ever Sit Down To Write X With Y In View - Whether It's A Reader, A Prize Or A Sale.

To Attempt To Write Seriously Is Always, I Feel, To Fail - The Disjunction Between My Beautifully Sonorous, Accurate And Painfully Affecting Mental Content, And The Leaden, Halting Sentences On The Page Always Seems A Dreadful Falling Short.