As I announced two days ago, my new book will be hitting the shelves of all good bookshops before Christmas.
When I say “good bookshops”, you know that I mean morally virtuous bookshops that are located solely within the UK and pay a minimum of 10% of turnover as corporation tax or 15% as income tax and NICs.
As yet, you will appreciate, very few bookshops have accepted my terms of engagement for selling my book.
Of course, you could always pay a bit extra to get a signed copy from the author!
So, in the meantime, I thought I might entice you with an excerpt from the book:
My upbringing was much like any other. That is why I am able to relate to all ordinary folk so easily. Unlike the toffs who run their neoliberal global conspiracy just to stand in the way of Justice For Taxes and thwart my personal crusade.
I played daily with my abacus and write regularly in my journals about justice and morality. Even back then I was a crusader.
This did not endear me with my school chums and it was a rare day that I was able to read my copy of Taxation magazine or The Socialist Beano without being picked upon. It was then that forged my deep sense of righteousness that keeps me true unto today.
The bullies were aided and averted abetted in their behaviour by the actions of the neoliberal cowardly teachers.
I remember in one maths class, Mr Clark point black said that I was wrong in calculating the average speed of a train. I can taste the bile in my mouth now as I recall standing up and shouting at him.
That man stood up and told the rest if the class the answer was something different to mine. I called him a liar and a sophist and a neoliberal coward. I remember him just saying ‘it’s a common mistake, don’t worry Murphy’, egging me on until I threw my compass at him.
From then on I was put in a special advanced maths class which I found intensely boring. We just seemed to cover the basics every lesson and my new teacher, Mrs Randall, kept getting the answers wrong.
We would spend most lessons discussing how my approach would invariably achieve a more accurate answer than hers. She used to make me laugh as she would adopt am entirely different method of arriving at the answer but inadvertently contrive to get exactly the same wrong answer a as before!
Those days made me realise that I had a special gift. I had a rare and unique intelligence which most others did not understand, no matter how many ‘remedial sessions’ Mrs Randall and I sat through together.
As you can see, it is a heady mix of philosophy, politics, drama and biography. I’m sure any intelligent reader shall enjoy it.