("Camus" she said so perfectly) 'cept the real war...was always only on one front

 

And only Herbert latterly found it with his magnificent Spella Ho...

a subltle wistful dreamy expose of reality: they all flounce and perform and it never ends well, and they do so easily just end up forgotten

shame nobody told Virginia to write REAL books about the wistful sardonic dont ever take it to heart just see them for what they are lost and a bit loon.... grow up and out of em they just leave dusty old houses behind wasting bedrooms tramps could use...

Even if in this land as soon as you even speak of reading a real book,

Harry and his silly fantasy kingdoms 

Never mind talk about a load of millions spent on nothing, except a fine cinematic  exposé of whom, especially my own one,  was under her fake Laura Ashley hems 

I bet more Britolite mums than history ever will relate weretoo..

so says Suzitoo!

Anyway no point even attempting to say to some bloke who is patinated in Eau de Led Zeppelin roadie,   " i am actually LOWER class than you matey i was kicked out of  extremely [lovely]peasant-school, school, no qualifications, sixteen ... no uni...  NO influences nobody reading me bedtime books....  no dinnertime discussions of culture or anything as i never went to family dinners or rarely between nuclear wars ...

Nobody educated me  ... except a real education began with old peasant Ralph then a few wonderful real-thing hippy types...but nobody ever told me to read some good books and i had nothing to prove as you survive that bleak orphanage theres only oneself to solve.. then approve of.... and your silly festivals never taught much except to value St Joan de Armourplating as equally as Sir Bob...  and that come the 80s some tart with a Biba habit started to profit from what we used to call lovely vegibrgers same price as the beefy ones  but nope gotta be some effnic pretend superfood burger  even then at double what theyw ere cost of living crisis to pay for more of their Biba or urban guerrila outfits...all festivals became a con especially anywhere near Hay  .."

So due the inate prejudice of some stupid 'class' compliant warrior so so so much more bourgeois than i have ever been in any way whatsoever

soon we get to ...it

BUt you cannot even begin tyo understand it without the pure genius (if there was proof of faeries, how on EARTH did he come up with this aged just that)

ohh yes first step your fetid swamp well i meet occasional so special ones... 

" chuck away Barnes, Faulks, self indulgent McKewan and ranty performative Amis...  they tell you NOTHINg especially of How To Live, merely their dull old man neuroses... WHAT!!!!! they STILL dont teach Bernhard on an Oxford Uni lit course ....sue the buggers for pretending to be in any way modern!!!" 

As only Bernhard maybe did inherit the boy geniuses  wonderful insouciance - pure ironic nuanced  gentle exasperation,  with the greatest ever not-taking-it-to-heart...

perhaps the greatest book of my ohh my they dont all just ponce around with nothing but a ton of cant and vanity between them...

and i am a pacifist

I dont like soldierly stuff but of course his hero was a 'vehicle' for ALL you ever needed to know

and how on earth did he know what he knew, that young, then

I dare not even posit an answer as it may have to include the supernatural

insouciance personified 

the good side

But no stupid British inverse snob with a less one-side accent could ever understand, there are no sides and no divides

only in one simplest aspect do you need bling to be something

or are you something adequate to yourself no bling ever

i know she is

As of course her Camus asked the only question, part 2, having discovered its cant and vanity

do you bother living on, yes; or self-sufficiently-actualising-a-plastic-bag-that-fits-your-head, no...?