"I think, therefore I am" is the famous phrase that Descartes used to express his method of systemic doubt, by which he would only accept what he could see clearly and distinctly to be true. In many ways Descartes thereby set the agenda for epistemology.

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In contrast I, in essence, like to write about shit.

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Make of that what you will.

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I have had some poems published in various nondescript magazines and a couple of articles/reviews “featured” in national newspapers (“featured”, hardly being the operative word).

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I wrote a mini drama for a terrestrial television channel in the UK, which was given a slightly warmer than lukewarm reception. Much like a winter mug of cocoa which has been left by your bedside for too long, although not for long enough to be thrown down the sink because it is now too cold, the 30 minute piece was functional rather than spectacular.

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I also wrote a play which was adapted for a one off performance in a theatre which I had until that point never heard of. It was seen by 37 people. I counted them. And yes that does include myself. Two seats in fact. Call that artistic licence.

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However my secret weapon remains undiminished. What I most enjoy is by all accounts a particular brand of social criticism guided by the Western philosophical tradition and my own unrelenting misanthropic nature.

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This latter part of the equation in effect means that if my writing displeases you, this in turn pleases me.

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So read at your own peril. But do be aware that any offence which ensues from you doing so is merely one side of this antagonism seesaw.

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