My penultimate breakfast of bread and dip gastronomically accommodated I sit and face the future with self-righteous fortitude. But where is my mail? Alphonso sits and polishes his buttons and shines his boots like a good soldier. I do neither, being after all, a “N.Zedder.” Having now read nothing of importance for a couple of years I find my mind growing curiously bankrupt. Yet, if one’s mind can be maintained only by assimilating the ideas of others, how is it to gain originality? (Echo – of some similar phenomenon – answers – “How?”).
