A Novel May Take Anywhere

Mr. Bernard Died On A Monday, At The Age Of Seventy-five, His Body Wasted. He Lay In State For Two Days In The Lobby Of The Bernard Gursky Tower And, As He Failed To Rise On The Third, He Was Duly Buried.

And Furthermore Did You Know That Behind The Discovery Of America There Was A Jewish Financier?

In Canada, Nobody Is Ever Overthrown Because Nobody Gives A Damn.

I'm Criticized By The Feminists, By The Jewish Establishment, By Canadian Nationalists. And Why Not? I've Had My Pot Shots At Them. I'm Fair Game.

I Must Speak The Truth, Even At The Risk Of Being Ostracized By My Fellow Scribblers. In Fact, Anticipating Their Rage, I Have Already Applied For A Place In The Canada Council's Witness-protection Program. This Because, Much As It Pains Me To Turn On My Kind, I Fear The Time Has Come To Admit That Far Too Many Celebrated Writers Were Outrageous Liars, Philanderers, Drunks, Druggies, Unsuitable Babysitters, Plagiarists, Psychopaths, Parasites, Cowards, Indifferent Dads Or Moms And Bad Credit Risks.