Brazil wouldn’t be my first choice of ideal abode, but then life is far from ideal; life contrives and contorts our fate beyond rational imagination. With this in mind there surely comes a point when one is obliged to intuitively stand back and allow the sudden understanding that this world is but a theater on whose stage is played a black comedy. We, the protagonists in this bouncy castle, ricochet from the excesses of chaotic mayhem to sublimity while never really knowing how we manage to excel or to phuck it all up. Personally, I am closer to washing my hands of it all, closer to allowing the world to continue without my input; an input that has hitherto been largely futile in the grand scale of things, and to sit back and enjoy all things, including the bloody disasters and crass stupidities of Man. Why do I feel like this? Perhaps it’s because it’s easier or perhaps it protects one’s sanity from the inanities of life; to laugh at the circus clowns and not be part of their troupe [Phuck it…I’m gonna open a bottle of wine].