I am a human being, so lost in rapturous contemplation of what I think I am as to overlook what I indubitably ought to be. I'm long-haired (not that intellectual who prefers classical music to jazz or acid rock). I admit that I'm out of my element when I'm singing. I most likely perform successively and successfully the functions of mastication, humectation and deglutition to those which are good to eat and wholesome to digest, as a worm to a toad, a toad to a snake, a snake to a pig, a pig to a man and a man to a worm. I drink when I have occasion for it and sometimes when I have none. I am happiest when I'm idle. I could live for months without performing any kind of labour, and at the expiration of that time, I should feel vigorous enough to go right on in the same way, for numerous more months. I don't know anything about music, really. But I know what I like. I enjoy vast delight in the folly of mankind; and, God be praised, that is an exhaustible source of entertainment. I cannot and will not recant anything, for to go against conscience is neither right nor safe. Here, I stand. I cannot do otherwise. I love a life whose plot is simple and does not thicken with every pimple.