INTRODUCTION NO. 4
22.00
When I become an adult and am 64, I will recall all this tedium, if only to establish whether I myself have been transformed into a slow-moving animal that employs its nickel jaws merely to chew grub stored for the long polar winter. What will I feel like at 64? Will all these children of the streets and supermarkets hate me too, the way I hate everyone over 40 who has succeeded in digging themselves in on the green hills of this life, precisely on the sunny side? And what will I think of them? What do you have to do to your brain over the course of a life to prevent it from finally rotting and becoming a pile of slimy seaweed useless even for making food? I suspect that even if I discover something about this it will be when I’m 64 and won’t want to change anyth
