I realize I have an unfortunate respect for those people who get bored and die. People such as Peter Cook (the comedian not the architect) and Jeff Bernard in particular. It hasn't been a particularly good life choice unless you are me. For me, Jeff's biography 'Reach for the Ground' is not only the best title ever...but...etc etc. I mean, isn't Steven Fry just too conspicuous in his endless activity? Can anybody actually believe a David Cameron hand gesture? Isn't South Africa just being a little too effusive right now given you can't travel anywhere in that country without an armoured car? When you walk down the street by yourself, or shopping in Tesco's or even with friends, aren't you secretly in an internal Pete'n' Dud sketch imagining depraved things you are unable to vocalize? Jeff wrote his columns called 'Low Life' in the Spectator for years and years, and often didn't write them at all because he was 'unwell' (pissed) Where does this get me? There are tragedies; Marc Bolan was never going to do anything decent, whilst he could halfway swagger under the spotlight for a little while, Jethro Tull were, unbelievably, the biggest selling act in the USA in the mid seventies; these are both aborations and lessons. Central to our considerations should be 'How do We Do Good Work' ? Amazingly, and contrary to all present orthodoxy (and those who work conscientiously selling insurance in St Albans) this means, as far as I'm concerned, sitting on your arse and thinking for long periods of time.