so I must finally start my "book" about a sickly old eurasian artist dying alone in the rural midwest of france...
I guess there should be some kind of bio/intro/history so that would probably break down into a kind of down and out in london and paris experience in the period when helldotcom was part of my worldview etc...
and then just zap into the various themes and obsessions of an utterly rejected artist with nothing for company but an internet connection and a steady stream of cluster flies etc...
a bit of intellectual theorizing and druggy fantasy stuff weaving in and out of a reality that is a total non-event...
