You may have noted a slightly melancholic turn in the last few posts- sorry. But returning from America to this little daft land has its existential effects, especially during the election, which is more Dads Army than usual.

Also, we enter a certain difficult arena at the university; in short flags must be flown, opinions must be traded, mud must be thrown, in something called the assessment of design.

Luckily the Americans have largely absolved themselves of taste issues over the last century ('It's not about taste- it's about what tastes good' - Gene Simmons of KISS). India and China are doing so today, but we are stuck with this taste thing. So here's a little moment of pure truth:

On my way home today I popped in to the White Horse as usual, which by now you know I understand as somewhere very pure, pleasant, and honest. 'Joy' came up to me wearing a striking leopard skin outfit. I said, as you would...'I hope that's not real!' She replied 'Of course it's real baby, otherwise I wouldn't be wearing it would I!' And there in that second or two, I cheered up. There you go I thought- there's no such thing as fake.