I read an article in the New York Times yesterday in which an author that I've never heard of but may investigate (Teju Cole - though the review of his book isn't doing him any favours at NYT) puts forward the idea that "'the novel' is overrated, and the writers I find most interesting find ways to escape it."

An interesting theory. The interview it seems, has been conducted by email or telepathy because the next question doesn't follow up on what he might mean more extensively - in fact it's as though somebody else came into the room to ask the next question. This is a shame because I for one would love to know his thoughts on that. From what I can gather from his website and biography, he is probably talking about telling stories with photographs or post-it notes spread across the city rather than something like a comic book or graphic novel - and that's fine. Whatever gets each of us through the night.

So - I read that yesterday and I'm still thinking about it today. I know he's more than likely right but I'm damned if I can think of a good reason why. Maybe I'll come back to this idea at some point.

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About 15 minutes ago, this young chap went for a haircut. Nothing serious but his fringe would let him into The Ramones right now and while he's there, he might as well have his hobbit paws fixed up too. They had better not do anything else to him. We're funny about things like hair around here.

Hector with some large unmentionable part of a cow... we think,

...and that's all I got! Things to finish, things to start, things to be chased and there are more than likely also things I've forgotten about too.