Although it's stupid (is it stupid?) I've been quite nervous about blogging now there are comments. Previously I could just blather on with no fear of comeback - the worst that could happen is that no-one would read my garblings. Now it's all different - so be nice to me, especially as this post is in response to Scott's challenge to declare our cultural vacuousness. Here are my confessions:

1) I still mainly only listen to the Cure. Sure, I listen to a lot of other stuff, but not with any level of dedication. I listen to Cure songs most days. I am a freak. Mum, you said I'd grow out of it, but like my fear of spiders I haven't. If anyone knows the Cure and think they would like a new edition of songwords to be published by the world's most Cure-friendly small publisher, email me and I'll sell a kidney to pay the advance.

2) I don't like road movies.

3) I can't stand Virginia Woolf. Oh, god, except the one *we* published. Oh yes, *that* one is brilliant.

4) I couldn't for the life of me understand why anyone would or could read Proust.

5) I think Martin Amis is boring.

Phew. I feel like a weight has been lifted. Plus I've managed to lever a picture of the WORLD'S GREATEST BAND EVER into the blog.