for what is religion if not a kind of madness, and what is madness without a touch of religion?
Trust the story ... the storyteller may dissemble and deceive, the story can't: the story can only ever be itself.
I prefer the pen. There is something elemental about the glide and flow of nib and ink on paper.
But I do like Scotland. I like the miserable weather. I like the miserable people, the fatalism, the negativity, the violence that's always just below the surface. And I like the way you deal with religion. One century you're up to your lugs in it, the next you're trading the whole apparatus in for Sunday superstores. Praise the Lord and thrash the bairns. Ask and ye shall have the door shut in your face. Blessed are they that shop on the Sabbath, for they shall get the best bargains. Oh yes, this is a very fine country.