September 16th, 2003


Cher Robert

Dearest Mr Wynd,

There is not a day that passes when I do not thank the heavens for the gifts it has bestowed upon my anus. Some may be granted the sleight of hand, the treachery of tongue, the speak and spell of brain, but I am not a man so puffed up with his own self that I will not happily admit to you that at this very moment, my anus is operating a small pair of bellows quite independently of conscious thought itself. To what end? Because it can, of course. It is true that I have not yet developed such an adequate control over its mutterings so as to produce a style of conversation readily understood by the conscious mind, but you must recognise its enthusiasm for the function. My brain, entirely capable of the most baroque iterations, rarely even manages the shortest of banalities these days, but my anus is clamour itself, shouting out for attention. Yes, it is keen, so very keen. Sometime shortly, I imagine that all my conversation will emanate from the profundities. Initially, you may be hesitant to consider it conversation. Consider it then a new music; let it fall delicately upon your ear, can you not hear the form within? This organ is not some crude blunderbuss, discharging itself without consideration upon the face of the audience, it is an instrument of the soul and an expression of my truest self. Imagine then my sadness, for here in the early morning light, what are these words that it tries to speak? What is it my dearest? If only you could stiffen your lips for a moment. Here, sit up, let me place a pillow beneath you. Come, lay waste to the world… Sitting at home yesterday, most innocently minding my own business with the paper: apparently, public interest in the anus has never been higher. Therefore, any new business or creative idea should really contain a certain amount of anus within it to ensure success and it is my every hope that by opening this letter with my anus that I have your very particular attention. According to this article, this upsurge was in part the result of AIDS – whole new sections of the public were exposed to the anus once more through officially sanctioned government sources. Setting forth like intrepid colonial explorers, the public began a surreptitious voyage into the anus. The anus is back on the map. Century of the anus. Nostalgia of the anus. What drives the adoption of broadband and wireless technology? Without doubt the anus. The amount of web-based information concerning the anus has never been higher. I need faster access to the anus. Admittedly, a disproportionate amount of this information appears to be in French, but there are mitigating circumstances. The anus is replicating itself across the world. Soon one anus will not be enough. You possibly already feel that your anus is insufficient. Does your anus measure up to those of your friends? How much money do you really need to spend a week on your anus? Surely no less than 5% of your disposable income. At what point in a conversation may I reasonably introduce my anus? Polite introduction is vital to avoid misunderstandings, but remember the anus is no longer exiled to the footnotes of social encounters: the anus should be placed on the conversational table at the earliest opportunity. And once we have tired of the anus? I fear it is rather that the anus that will grow tired of you. My knowledge of Florida is patchy, but surely it is a land that both the alligator and the anus can proudly call their home? Enough with the anus!
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