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Wednesday, 4 February 2004

Chris Bell 2004

She took my hands again. “In each of us lives the little animal of the self: Nothing to do with the mind, it goes its own way; there is no talking to it. Sometimes it wants to live; sometimes it wants to die. Maybe you are in hospital for surgery, and while you are anaesthetised the little animal of the self makes up its mind. ‘OK,’ it says, ‘this time I don’t die.’ Or it says, ‘That’s it - I have had enough and now it’s time to pack it in.’”

I don't think I've ever chosen a 'Rinyo-Clacton' quote for SA4QE before. The appropriate 4qlocation for this struck me as being the local cigar bar, 'Cuba', at the top of Parnell Road in Auckland. These pleasantly decadent surroundings are furnished with leather sofas, wooden venetian blinds and deep brown timbers, masked by a haze of expensive cigar smoke. Just the sort of place Mr Rinyo-Clacton would likely hang out, if ever he came here, I thought.

I left the quote on one of the tables late last night (about 12:15 a.m., Wednesday 4 February, 2004) and drank a toast of Laphroaig single malt to Russ.

Well being,

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