He wakes up. He sees bears, dancing, unicycles, politics. There are lies, kingmakers, overacting, underacting, artists work for free death death death life life life. A man recovering from a heart attack a man carrying a box of items going to work barely able to walk no health insurance waiting a month and a half for disability benefit been employed there for more than twenty years. Unshaven yet still fierce and burning with a quiet rage at the injustice of his predicament. Will self decoded the death of the novel but loses at the word benisons. Words are means to communicate communicate superiority snobbery popery pappyri heroin peaches geldof sadness tragedy repetition. UKIP racism Max Clifford hoisted and in the air of the green and pleasant land can be tasted the ether of glee. Poison yellow mist of pollen thick dust in muggy air. Dylan Thomas dead under milkwood dead thirty seven dead. He has two and a half years to best his father’s record. He can do it. He wills it. He makes it so. He eats cake. Eyes streaming throat scratching nose swollen and read. else where a landslide elsewhere a boy saves his sister but parts they ultimate price. Tom Brokaw is honored. All these things are happening at once. Overlapping tumbling squashing interlocking allergies are worse Kevin Spacey is very entertaining on Jimmy Fallon. Embassy day. Lines and lines and costumes and white people taking photographs and the colonised countries get this weekend the colonised get next weekend he drinks a drink with peach and cinnamon at the Bolivian embassy. The line for chocolate is too long. There is dancing. A man dressed as a polar bear. The south African embassy is a shrine to Mandiba. Wonderful bright art in both. More dancing. Spicy ginger beer makes his tastebuds. Then the lines at other embassies snake and meander ever longer so they give up and go for shake shack lunch. Comic book day is over. He misses free comic books again. He is thirty seven and there will always be next year. He watches horse racing. Horse. Racing. A horse wins. The Hollywood movie version of the race – the underdog – the rank outsider. There is happiness. Moustaches twirl. No time for Opera on the Outfield no time for The Magic Flute. There is more reading and more sleeping and recharging and landlord rejection and The girls are still missing and they are to be sold and dispersed and their names are released and their is international uproar but only noise just the noise of uproar and then mumbling and then murmuring and then he remembers that Daniel Ellsberg was released because of Government corruption and illegal collection of evidence not because he wasn’t guilty and he wonders if Daniel Elsberg ever thanks unknown powers that the authorities that wanted to destroy him didn’t just trust the legal system that was already in place but rather sank to deviant means which meant that he had to be freed even as he admitted his guilt. Then he eats some blueberries and then Boko Haram kidnap more girls, then skirmishes occur between Russians and Ukrainians and men die then there is fighting in South Sudan and children die and parents weep. Then he pays a phone bill with his credit card with one of his credit cards. Then he eats some pringles then he has a glass of water then he reads some more writing by Matt Taibi and then he drifts and slumbers and snores and he is asleep.