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The cold has dug in now – all plugged up, vaguely achey. But in a way it’s comforting. Nothing needs to be done tonight; I can sit by the fire and catch up the Sopranos. I’m not starting the next book until next Wednesday. The pressure’s off.

Oddly enough, I wrote a 2179 word Bleat tonight, but it will have to wait. I got sidetracked in a debate with my wife about current events, and two hours later I realized that I would not be dumping my manifesto on the web. I’ll be frank: I could. I could spend the next hour honing and tweaking my reaction to the Whitehall speech, the Salam Pax letter in the Guardian, the WTC memorial and Harold Pinter’s remarks; it’s all there, right in front of me, a big noisy spew. But I have a cold and I want to watch TV. So here’s something equally shameful and risible.

It’s the Spock MP3, and it’s not a work in progress; it’s done. I give up. The first part is all tortured and logical; I used typewriters and anvils for a beat, to describe his clockwork mind and Vulcan ancestry. But it’s not a groove I would want to listen to for more than a minute, so I strip most everything away and bring up a second theme that’s more fun, but hardly Spockish. The problem, as I noted before, rests with the nature of the clips. Spock isn’t as quotable as the other characters. Anyway: download it, shake your head, wince; share the failure. Apologies. Substantial drivel tomorrow.



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