And who are you, imagining that you are actually reading this?

Convened in 1950, I am now 58, which is a minor miracle in itself considering the nature of my life thus far. But does it matter? As my friend Danny always asks. And you? How the hell have you got this far?

And here is another question.
How, in a Universe empty of all form and substance, can you hear the constant sound of human voices? And watch the multiple bodies stalking the endless corridors of time? And why will Liverpool fail to win the Premiership for yet another season?

Three things essential
Invented by men:

The spire,
The prayer wheel
And the quill pen.

Enough!