I think we can safely say that Nick Levene is a man who has lived the dream, but where the fuck is he? Apparently, this City financier (derivatives trader) and vice chairman of Leyton Orient FC has done a runner, owing his mates/business associates £70 million or so. For reasons best known to themselves, they call him "Beano". Well, I suppose it could be worse. They could call him the Gangster of Love.
Or the Space Cowboy.
Yes, they could call him the Space Cowboy. Thankfully, they don't.
But maybe they should.
Yes, maybe they should. Because, dear reader - THIS IS A WORLD EXCLUSIVE - I can reveal that Nick is floating around in his own inner space and touching our astral plane in the most wondrous of ways.
O Master, does this mean we can hear him speak?
YES, IT DOES!
Take it away, Nick: 'O Master, can I call you "Master"? You can call me "Beano". I don't mind. Yes, yes, yes, you are right, Master. I am off floating, touching the plane, touching all the believers inside, but hidden from the cold ones of the world who would chase after me for mere money if only they knew where to look. We are men of wisdom. Men ahead of our time. You understand me, don't you, Master? Why should I worry about Richard Caring, or Raymond O’Rourke, or Brian Souter, or Ann Gloag, or … I could go on, but I won't. They are not real to me. What is real to me? Let me tell you: Big Herb is real. Ganesh the elephant god is real. The ghosts of the dead financiers are real. And do they frown upon my activities? Do they look down on me? No! They love me! They welcome me with open arms, in the astral desert of our dreams, in the astral sky of our dreams, and in the astral sea of our dreams - with dolphins! Not sharks! Dolphins! Truly, I am a man who has lived the dream. I'm still living it, man!'
Yeah. Whatever you want to say about Nick, you have to admit that he is living the dream.