Had to happen someday, someday had to be my day. They say something about it in The Language, don’t they, something about every dog and that every dog having a day? But why bring in dogs? Strange how loving and loyal dogs are and what wretched things they become metaphors for. We excel in unthinking dichotomy, that’s who we are too. We call ourselves humans, you know what I mean, the unspeakable irony of it. You seek to be human, you seek to be a superior human, somehow superior, by knocking this human and that. Knocking their doors. Then, having done with that, knocking them.

That is who you are. You pick a human, then pick on humans, and then through such picking you seek to become the pick among humans. I mean you picked on your mother, did you not? You picked on her, you despicable being, dead, poor thing, and you wrote on her being dead, or no more, poor thing, and then you went about desperately seeking where you could publish what you had written on your dead, poor thing, mother, did you not? You poor thing. But that is how you pick on humans on your way to becoming the picked one. Pick. Pick.

Pick. Pick. And make each picked upon one feel they are privileged to have been picked upon. And then become the picked one. That is who you are, you unauthorised scavenger of stories, you never sought any permissions to pick from where you were picking and becoming fatter and fatter as a consequence of all the picking that you were pasting onto your own body and gathering greater body, if you get my drift.

But you are what is the fashionable thing these days. Fashionable, mind you, not stylish. Fashion comes and passes, style is Style. Style stays. You are fashionable, you are here, you shall pass. Fashion is feted. But for a while, a fair while, perhaps, but a while. Style stays. You don’t have style, you cannot.

Nobody who lives off picking on others is allowed style. And you pick off others. That’s all you do; you pick off those who will be useful to you things that you believe that will be useful to you. You are such, you aren’t even worth describing as anathema because you are such that you will turn your announcement as anathema into something that will suit your purposes. You are an AntiBody. Unfortunate it is that you are also, by dint of being an AntiBody, much sought after and deserving of fees from recipients. Such are the times we have unfortunately come to inhabit.

Who are you if not another

Whose validation alone you are

And you think I still may bother

With you, oh no, you only jar.