There are many (myself included) who regard this paper and music in general as a haven of peace and conviviality in a world that seems ever increasingly to be going mad. Aside from occasional sputterings (which are the essence of the Static described in this column heading) I have mostly tried to steer clear of controversy and certainly contention that would put me at odds with certain of my readers. This is not the place for it, though occasionally I might seem to let something slip that those with their Syncopated Decoder Rings (unofficial) claim to be able to decipher. My response is that if I want to communicate a thought, I will do so plainly.
Those who have read some of the opinions I have expressed elsewhere, most notably on Facebook, have already clicked their ballpoint pens, preparing to upbraid me in longhand for my subversive hypocrisy. They perhaps feel that by holding this page up to the light they can divine my ulterior agenda through the sunniest and subtlest of propaganda. (Even the tone of this paragraph might suggest that I am someone who bears watching.)
Yes, I do say things in real life that I would never say here. I cannot hold them in and expect to survive. Static is one thing and hypertension is another. I do my damnedest to keep those two separate. I have added soundproofing material to my Syncopated castle to keep the outside noise from marring the serenity
