Martin Blessing, chief executive of Commerzbank, is very excited, and he wants to address my readers directly. So be it. This is what Martin says:
'I couldn't afford to ignore this unique opportunity, so I grabbed it with both hands. What am I talking about? I imagine, dear reader, you think I'm talking about the Dresdner Bank deal. Excuse me, but I have far more important stuff going on in my life. No, I am talking about Michael Fowke's invitation to venture into the desert on the astral plane of his subconscious. This is some heavy shit. I just hope I'm up to the challenge. I've been pestering him for some time to let me roll around in the desert of his soul, his mind, his subconscious; and now at long last it is going to happen. What does it entail? Well, your guess is as good as mine. I presume I will experience all the depths of his thought, the wonders of his imagination, but also the sickness and the darkness that lurks within him. I mean, let's face facts, this guy is a bit dodgy. All that talk about Jack Pickles. Some people say he is Jack Pickles. I am not saying he is - I don't want to get into trouble - but I have met a lot of people (many of them dead now, or residents of mental institutions) who have met Jack Pickles and read Michael's blog, and they have put two and two together. Do you know what I mean? I ask you, why does he wear that white sheet? For protection from psychic attack, he says; but is there more to it? Those poor souls who have met Jack say you can see the evil marked in his face. I get a shiver down my spine just thinking about it. Anyway, that's enough. I'm looking forward to my mystical trip, and I'm sure Michael won't hurt me in any way. Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy. I have total respect for him. He's such a wonderful person.'
You see? Certain characters think I'm afraid of criticism because I don't allow comments on my blog, but that's nonsense. I have very good reasons for not allowing comments - which I won't go into. But I let Martin have his say. Didn't make a great deal of sense to me, but I let him have his say. And I'm not going to hurt him. I promise.
