On melancholic days like these, one's immune system crashed because of age and Sarkosconi's election and the presence of nasty fools in the world, one's thoughts turn, as so often, to the old Meccano factory on the RER B line from Roissy Airport to Paris. 'Pataphysics, and Zombie, you see, make anything attractive, or equally boring, or something. There is no colour, no beauty "really". One struggles, then, to see beauty - glory? - in this very fact. The Sensitive Zombie, one of life's grosser oxymorons.
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