When I decide to send around a piece I have just written, I copy it from my book files onto files with templates of postcard boilerplate—addresses and the like—and print out as many sheets of paper as there are postcards I intend to make. I usually make between thirty and fifty cards. The piece appears in the upper left corner of the paper, leaving the standard margin along the outside border. I then cut it out with scissors—usually a few sheets at a time—first along the inside border, and then along the outside border. In addition to the piece itself, two L-shaped pieces of paper are produced in this way. The thicker one I use in the next step in the process, whereas the thin one is just scrap. I place face down the rectangular piece of paper with my text on the L-shaped piece of paper and squirt out some paper glue onto it. Then I spread around the glue with my index finger and paste the piece itself onto the postcard, which is lying face down, as well. This done, I pick up the L-shaped piece of paper, fold it over to cover the part which was smeared with glue, press it over the piece on the postcard, and rub it with my hand until the glue is evenly spread. Then I wipe the glue off my index finger off the L-shaped piece of paper, fold it again to cover the glue, and throw it into a wastepaper basket. Having made thousands of cards, I can make about sixty of them per hour. Anyway, I usually discard the thin pieces of L-shaped paper into the basket before I start gluing the postcards, but they sometimes remain in a neat pile on the edge of my desk. This is what happened today. At some point I accidentally pushed the L-shaped pieces of paper onto the floor. Having been lying one on top of the other before they were dislodged, the pieces of paper rotated as they fell. When I looked down, I saw something very much like a swastika on the floor. To many a European, this would look like a very bad omen, but to many an Asian, it would be a very good one. This afternoon I will side with the Asians.