Every once in a while, I go to my Residua for reassurance of sorts. I am eager to find something surprising. As well as uplifting. My method is as simple as it can be: I go to my website, choose a yearbook at random at first, and then choose a piece of writing at random. This is what I just did, and I came upon a piece I have completely forgotten in the meanwhile: “Coming Right at Me” (April 11, 2003). I was still in Britain at the time, and a helicopter came toward me out of a blue. It was flying low. Looking at its belly, I got scared that it would shit on me. And then I remembered that helicopters do not shit. It all took a split second, but I felt that the primordial character of my thought had to be recorded. Wonderful. Many of my pieces are of this ilk, and it is a joy to stumble upon one of them by chance. Come to think of it, reading at random is not a bad approach when it comes to my writings. As witnessed by the piece I came upon a moment ago, writing at random is squarely behind it, too.