What could possibly be the difference of sitting in a place for eight hours while the sun is out and shining, and sitting in that same place when the sun has done its day? What could happen in the darkness that could not happen in the light?

“Believe those who seek the truth, doubt those who find it.” – Andre Gide.

Give a kid a uniform, and a badge, and their knowledge soars – their knowledge of fear and of the dark side of things.

Why is night time never the right time for todays petty bureaucrats? What fears do our protectors hold and why such a desire to press them upon others … ? In my experience, over many long years, sleep tends to be a much more passive activity than waking, not to say somewhat safer.

If one brings out an easel and a half finished painting and sticks it out in a clearing on the edge of a cliff, or perhaps in a little forest, then, even though one may be settled under a ‘Day Use Area – Only!’ sign, its likely that a council petty officer – all badged and uniformed up – will leave you alone to get on with your business. Even though your business may not progress one iota, not a brush stroke, not even an erased line – you are likely to be left alone to transgress. If, however, your business happens to be reading a book, or perhaps writing one, that self same petty officer is more than likely to tramp over and WARN you that this is a ‘Day Use Area – Only!’. This they will do without even considering, or asking, whether your business may take you past the point where day stops being day … and maybe even, turns into fearful night. Why is this?

Some primordial fear no doubt; some nightmare. Something … something … happens in the night that is so much more dangerous, more fearful to modern man than that which happens in the light! – tigers perhaps, murderers … perhaps magic – who knows? Ah, but someone knows. And this thing, or things, that go bump in the night, they are so fearful that even those in the know are unable to explain them. “Your safety is my concern,” she said. “Darlin’, said I looking up from my notepad, “my safety is none of your fuckin’ business.”

“Its the law,” she said. Ah … the potentialities – Thus sprake Zarathustra!

“One wants a mind that can play gracefully with ideas rather than one that arrives at violence of opinion merely” – Oscar Wilde.