Things became very flat when journalists Jones and Entwistle had a discussion. There were several things about existence that Entwistle deliberately overlooked and ignored, and Jones accepted this slightly brusque, harsh and cynical style, not out of fear but respect for the originator’s exposed position until one day he better understood that “the cards are no good that you’re holding, unless they’re from another world”, as the poet sings.
“Please stop writing on my nose!”
“But I’m a writer. An intellectual.”
“A real writer and intellectual wouldn’t write on my nose.”
“No? What does a real writer and intellectual do then?”
“There is plenty to be done.”
“Why?”
“Therefore.”
“Where?”
“Over there. A severely suffering person.”
“Show me him! Introduce me to him!”
“Why?”
“Because intellectuals need to educate and inspire and maintain a certain level of moral standards.”
“It sounds difficult. You’re the one who is on the ass.”
“I want to save the whole world!”
“You forgot to wear pants!”
“Is it true that he is suffering? My-oh-my!”
“See! That’s the problem with you intellectuals. You think you are the masters of the world! Well, go over and talk to him quietly.”
Consequently, the The Other Newspaper‘s employee had things to do. Please read what happened.
So you are a very suffering person?
“Er. Who are you?”
I’m sorry. I come from The Other Newspaper. Sorry.
“It does not matter.”
I’m sorry.
“Why are you apologizing all the time?”
You’re wouldn’t be …?
“King Kurt?”
The same!
“At your service!”
But I didn’t think a celebrity could suffer greatly.
“You don’t have much life experience, do you?”
I’ve read books. Big ones. An author I am.
“Be an author for all I care. You remind me of a guy called Allan.”
