O Sole Mio

He who lives in solitude may make his own laws.

Publilius Syrus (1st century BCE)

Following my return from two weeks of hiking in Narnia, I found my inbox to be full to the very brim with emails replete with gnashing of teeth and wailing because of the recent reduction in posts at Screwtape.

Well, actually, I've only had five emails, of which one was for an apparently outstanding investment opportunity for a gold purchase from a former rebel general in Cote d'Ivoire and another offered to extend the length of the penis for which my Y-chromosome challengedness makes me an unlikely prospect. But the other three had some pretty decent wailing and teeth gnashing, let me assure you. Oh yes.

Truth be told, Screwtape has run on hard times. Our founder, Louis Cypher, is away on an extended sabbatical in which he hopes to gather specimens of every subgenus of Botrychium fern. He will be back only when this task is complete. Warren James is, quite literally, chained to his desk until the SLV database is not only fully populated in standard, binary, hexadecimal and base 3i, but also perfectly translated into Yiddish, Welsh and Sanskrit. GM Jenkins is having one of his 'rests', which - if his past form is anything to go by - involves whoring his way around the Mediterranean in a homage to his Grand Tour idols of yesteryear. RLP is AWOL. And Brian O'Flanagan has now sadly left the blog after an unfortunate incident involving hummus, a small plastic model of the Millennium Falcon, and the Bishop of Bath and Wells.

Which sort of leaves just me. At least until GM cleans his nether regions free of tomato puree and Sicilian lemons, and Warren crunches his final digit. Which will hopefully only be a month or so.

So, here's the deal. I'm going to do my best to hold the fort:

Please bear with me. Firstly, the posts will still be less numerous than you're used to because of my frequent missions of mercy to South Waziristan. Secondly, you may notice a bit of a shift in direction. I unfortunately do not have GM's TA wizardry, nor Warren's wit and patience, nor Brian's Ivory Coast investment portfolio.

But my upper lip will remain stiff, my pencil freshly sharpened, and - hopefully - my information true.

God Save the Queen.