I have mentioned to my friends, and have said as much on this dinky website right here, that I have fourteen or fifteen unpublished essays on my computer. The reason I never did anything with them was because I hated them—hated the way they sounded, hated that they said absolutely nothing, hated that they all felt the same.

I don’t know why but I just re-read a few of them. Today I am home alone drinking coffee and listening to Buena Vista Social Club, and I said aloud: “You know, these aren’t bad. I’m just a fool.”

So I guess I’m going to publish a few of them on VIII NOTHING this week and move on to new stuff, specifically my stupid book, which absolutely must be done within two months.