Press (Full Profile)

FULL PROFILE written between 2004 and 2015

Michael Arthur Varney,


I was born in Hammersmith Hospital 19th November, 1933. Father, Sydney Albert Varney. Mother, Vera Margaret Fisher.

Sometime in your life you would think and say to yourself, ‘I’m going to have a perfect life’ – that is if you have a happy beginning. Most parents would endeavour to make that wish come true. In an ideal world you would not be disillusioned unless of course the 2nd World War intervened at a very early age of 6 and life did not then go according to any dream or plan.

Let me start with my early childhood which was spent in Ealing, a suburb of London at 14, Clarendon Road, when I first attended school (4 ½ or 5 years old) at Pitshanger Lane Primary School with brother Raymond. We walked the 2 miles there and back every school-day. We also attended the Methodist Church and Hall (at the beginning of Pitshanger Lane shopping centre) for scouts and Sunday Service. Mother was born into the Fisher family whose brothers both died as young men – one in the Grand Union Canal and the other on the Western Front in France in the First World War. Father worked hard to accomplish his Matriculation with working class parents, brothers and sisters and joined the Civil Service over Admiralty Arch before the Second World War 1939-45 – later in life (post 1945) as Assistant Director – same offices.

When war was declared in 1939, father was relocated for security reasons to Bath, while the rest of the family, including younger sister Maureen who arrived in 1935, was moved to Great Tew in Oxfordshire (5 miles from Chipping Norton and 10 miles from Banbury) where Aunt ‘Ginny’ lived safe and sound and alone. Of course, Bath was severely bombed during the war (like Coventry) and father occasionally came to visit us in Great Tew having travelled by coach to Enstone where we would meet him at the bus Garage. Walking there and back home to Brookside Cottage (where we lived in Great Tew) we had to pass Enstone Aerodrome where Raymond and I spent hours watching the United States Fortress Bombers taking off  and landing after bombing raids on Nazi Germany.

We 3 children attended Great Tew School where Mrs. Lamprey was the one and only teacher with one class. To impress villagers and parents, she helped Raymond pass his 11 plus examination (by pointing out his wrong answers ‘That’s not right is it Raymond?’). Well indirectly, that helped me, as one brother was treated the same as another brother back then or was that simply favouritism because father was an Assistant Director in the Admiralty? In any case, Raymond was thereby considered to be the ‘brains’ of the family (and the village) with me hardly able to read ‘Peter Pan’ whilst Raymond was deep into all the ‘Biggles’ aeronautical books. Well, well, the authorities allowed me to become a ‘Chippy’ (short name for Chipping Norton) schoolboy even though I think, quite honestly, I must have failed the 11 plus examination. Sadly, our erstwhile early teenage behaviour was not perfect in many respects nor did it reflect, as expected in those days, our middle class standards. The truth was that Raymond and I were both expelled from ‘Chippy’ school for 2 weeks as punishment for stealing watches from a shop by the Town Hall. That was not the only mischief for which the villagers upbraided us, as a family, for our misconduct. One example being that I set fire to Ada’s thatched-roofed cottage shop on the Green with a firework bought across her counter. That misdemeanour alone invoked my first book later in life and self-published in 1991 because of lies and contradictions, about village and country life, namely, GREAT TEW: Living In The Past.

Just for a moment you should ask yourself why would one self-publish. The answer was and still is self-evident, namely, we all have to face ‘real life’ as against romantic fictional novels – mainly directed at women – printed for example by Harlequin Mills and Boon. The situations evoked in fictional books seem so remote from life and do not even approach the basics of TV soaps – like Coronation Street. Oh well, you have to take your pick.

Who wants all that frivolity when one can write honestly and give away complete books to relatives and friends however acceptable that might be? You know, as well as I do, that nothing is ever that simple and straight-forward in life concerning relationships and extending that to publishing and sales because at least 125,000 books are published every year and half of those never sell a copy. To sell you need a publisher wanting to make a profit from you because you are famous or notorious for some reason. I am neither. Sending 10,000 words or 15 pages to a publisher is not a guide to what follows or the content or even its readability. The TRUTH is always readable if the circumstances are treated SYMPATHETICALLY. I have to say there is nothing gratuitous, bland, sterile, lifeless or unreal in any of my books, which become adaptations of life itself. Could you ask for more? War books are ‘real’ in so far as they are emotional and relate to the mental and physical experience. Why call them non-fiction except to avoid liability for telling the exact ‘truth’. Naming names is the truth (unless innocently involved) unless of course you want to lie about life itself, events, behaviour and your reactions which in all honesty could be quite natural – but not the truth.

It is time to return to chronological order of life as such. At the end of 1945 the family returned to 14, Clarendon Road, Ealing, West London only to find that a Mr. and Mrs. Phillips were living in the house as refugees in our absence. The situation was resolved by them living in the front room and sharing the kitchen, between 7 people. Raymond and I shared a bedroom (for 30 odd years and also shared his old school clothes) and took up similar interests like stamp collecting. Yes, he collected Nationals and I collected British Colonials. To this day I still possess a penny black and a two penny blue – undisturbed for years and worth some money. Need to say, we both resumed our education, that time at Ealing County Grammar School. Raymond, at that time was always much more studious than me – my reputation, being probably the worst of all 500 pupils attending the school. Quite honestly, I was caned no less than 5 times by the Head Master, Mr. J. Sainsbury-Hicks, in one term alone, I hasten to add not for swearing or stealing. The only occasion I can recall was when I found and threw a soggy lump of old rag around in the playground and used it as a missile. I must have hit at least one target and was punished appropriately.

At home, we had new friends – one being Colin Chisholm who live with his parents up the same road. He also had a middle-class father as a newspaper reporter and was well into literary things. It was Colin that persuaded us to become the Three Musketeers. The swashbuckling element really appealed to Raymond. But then they moved to Surbiton in Surrey which changed all our lives, with cycling/motorcycling and other preoccupations – young manhood.

All those events – evacuation, village life, bombers, war damage, school – were a distraction from serious study but probably did help me in later life. Somehow, I seemed to attract a lot of trouble and attention at school but in doing so gained some quite innocent notoriety and was ‘adopted’ by the 2 toughest guys at Ealing County Grammar namely, Dave Meredith and John Scully. No, you would not want to cross them but they were just a threat. For some reason, they had quite a deep affect on me in terms of interests in Shakespeare, weightlifting and health. Dave chose me to be his scene-shifter in the school plays for Julius Caesar and Macbeth and then the pair of them invited me to join their Scorpion Barbell Weight Lifting Club. By pure chance, Dave already had a natural herculean body ready just to be beefed-up (well-defined if you like) to become Junior Mr Wales. It also inspired me to throw the javelin and put the shot as a 10 ½ stone weakling.  I wonder what they are both doing today because they changed my life as I am still weightlifting and keeping fit down the local gym by the way.

Needless to say I did manage to pass a few GCSE exams and at 16 ½ years brother Raymond and I were inspired to join Air Training Corps under the then Ealing Chief Librarian, ex-RAF officer Cecil Hope, 1413 Squadron, (library next to school) doing square bashing, rifle drill, march training for parades, shooting and camps including camp at Manston Airport where we were taken on flying trips in Anson aircraft and taught such subjects as aircraft recognition and meteorology. It was all great fun.

Moving on also at school leaving age I was interviewed and employed as a trainee to work at the Head Office of Sainsbury’s which was then in Stamford Street, London, close to Blackfriars Bridge. There, I was assigned to different departments with twenty or so others prospective trainees and ended up with Paddy Griffin as my IC and with Mr. Bond, the Manager in the Ledger Department. At that time, I was taking about 120 cheques a day, through to a wood-panelled Directors area (on an adjoining floor to the Ledger Department) for signature by one of the Sainsbury sons and brothers. For some reason as trainees, we all attended Dulwich. I also played football for Sainsbury’s (under 18’s) and disguised the fact that I suffered from asthma by playing at left back as nobody in those days could kick left footed.  However, unfortunately for me, teams were changed around according to mere likes and dislikes. In one match we played I ended up in goal against a ‘Jo Lyons’ team who, with their dynamic centre forward, put 7 goals past me.

My early association with the ATC and with almost 1½ years experience behind me, I was called-up to do National Service in the RAF and took my hard-toecap football boots with me in 1952. I never mentioned that I suffered from asthma as Raymond had failed his physical forces test because he had a 32 inch chest measurement when he was over 6 foot tall. I kept my mouth shut about asthma as Raymond, being older, had been given a second rate job, in keeping with his supposed fitness, working on the other side of Blackfriars Bridge from me with The Worshipful Society of Apothecaries. He had no choice.

Between the years 1952 and 1954, I served in the RAF as a Radar Operator, working 100 feet or so underground, on the Downs, but based at a camp in the suburbs of Shoreham-on-Sea. The radar scanner circled above ground, corresponding with the 360 degree line circling the round screen (CRT) which picked up images, including ships, and was reported by us, as operators, from the screen grid, to a centre at Box – miles away. Whilst posted there I volunteered to line the route for the Queen Elizabeth Coronation. We all camped out in Kensington Gardens for 4 days and stood for 6 hours with others opposite Selfridges in Oxford Street. Then later on, being discharged, I had to find a new career and after some necessary readjustment to civilian life, I joined the Halifax Building Society (now a division of Bank of Scotland plc.) after being interview by Mr Laurence Randall Feltham at their Ealing Office. He had as his assistants Leonard  Storey and Anthony Brooks who were a great influence in my life. Under them, as a cashier for 5 years, I started studying for professional examinations. That meant my private life disappeared and was spent studying in my bedroom for 10 years, (shared with brother Raymond for 30 odd years) and undertaking a Correspondence Courses (with the Metropolitan College, at St. Albans) to obtain two Associateships. For that, I sat 64 exam papers (doubled up every 6 months for ACIS., ACBSI) before becoming, after another period of 2 years a Fellow in both professions namely the Chartered Institute of Secretaries and the Chartered Building Societies Institute – the latter becoming much later (after the near demise of Building Societies) the Institute of Bankers. Yes, we all now know what happened to the so-called ‘Banks and Bankers’ in 2007 which still persists today.

Along the way, before completing my studies, I realised that I had a severe handicap namely that my written and verbal English was not good enough to actually pass exams even after Grammar School and Dulwich College. So, in 1959, at the age of 26, I faced reality and rather belatedly in life sought improvement in my English and a solution. Rash as it might have seemed, I decided the best way to improve my English was to learn to speak another language, namely French just across the water. Having saved up by taking advantage of an ‘Halifax’ account, I packed my bags went to live in Paris. I mean to say, I slept on the streets and in doorways for 4 days and registered at L’Alliance Francaise (attached to La Sorbonne). Luckily, I did find accommodation on Boulevarde Raspail with the Famile Bernoux (Mr. and Mrs.) who even went on holiday (to their chalet in the French Alps) leaving me in charge of their ground floor flat, even though Monsier Bernoux was a Company Director and took to my aspirations. I stayed there for 10 months living in a different world (returning at intervals to take exams) spoke French fluently until I returned home to my parents’ house in West London at 14, Clarendon Road, Ealing, W.5.

My next challenge was to find and return to Building Society employment. After being interviewed, I was taken on as Assistant Manager in the Investment Department of the Portman Building Society (1960 – 1965) under the Manageress, Miss Giles. It was there that I befriended Tony Tuddenham, who helped me accomplish motor racing at every circuit and hill climb in England with an out-of-date side-valve Lotus Mk 6. Yes, I have to explain that when time permitted, I had to rebuild hacks for towing as well as the out-dated racing car (as a member of Formula Ford and 750 Club) and qualified as a National Racing Driver. Looking back, I felt belittled by my sister and her husband Peter merely because he wanted to impress with his MG Sports Car – strange life isn’t it?

During those years, I sought promotion and, in early 1965, I was appointed Assistant Secretary of the Globe Building Society at Kingston-upon-Thames and tried to hide my last race, which was held at the Silverstone club circuit. By some quirk, it was published in the press and my new boss Mr Rooks, the General Manager and Secretary, read the news that I was getting married the following Saturday at Acton, West London Registry Office. Despite all that racing activity over 3 or 4 years, I had met my future wife Carol, (wartime child – Canadian rookie) and we were married on 4th September, 1965, (divorced 1988).

I survived the controversy and to be near work, I, (then we) bought a Dutch-styled terraced cottage in Tolworth, Surrey and added an allotment nearby to our gardening ambitions. Thanks to Mr Rooks leadership, I progressed to acquire the two Fellowships I sought, namely FCIS., FCBSI – to provide financial security with a wife and having planned 2 children to come.

   It was not all plain sailing however from then on, as the Society, in keeping with the trend, decided to ‘transfer its engagements’ to the Leek Building Society in the Midlands (before being the Leek and Moorlands and later becoming the Leek and Westbourne Building Society) but unfortunately they had nothing to offer me at such a distance and being newly qualified. So, I had to go elsewhere and eventually took up an appointment as Executive Accountant with the London Investment Building Society under General Manager, Jeffrey Sedden-Walker. It was explained to me that the previous incumbent of my office was being squeezed due to his lack of motivation. Mmm. He, Mr Sedden-Walker, had ambitions of enlarging ‘his’ Society through mergers and take-overs in the 1970’s and I was there to fulfil his ambitions which I did with 4 mergers.

During that time, one of the staff namely Jim Duggan, of Irish descent, with whom I was quite friendly, recommended that Ireland, namely the west of Ireland, was ‘A lovely place for a holiday’ (Irish accent). So with his influence, I talked it over with my wife Carol and our 2 very young children and booked a holiday there for 2 weeks. I have to say I shall never return to Ireland certainly not with children and a wife. It was such an overwhelming experience and ordeal that it became the inspiration for my 4th book LYING IN WAIT – written between 2005 and 2008 – followed by 3 other books.

However, to continue businesswise, when it came to the forth merger in 1975, it was for two societies of equal size, namely the Goldhawk Building Society and the London Investment Building Society and by sheer coincidence they were established in the same street namely, Goldhawk Road, Shepherds Bush, West London – just a mile apart. Mr Sedden-Walker retired on the merger and left two Chief Executives in charge namely, Leonard Dally (former Mayor of Wandsworth) and Alan Chorley (formerly in charge of the Holloway Building Society – one of ‘my’ merged Societies). They were both senior to me and had their own ambitions to fulfil. Sad to say, they were not competent in themselves to run their own Societies, before take-over, which extended to the combined Society – by then double the size. Apart from financial accounting there were numerous dissatisfied staff and the society introduced a policy of employing new untrained staff. It was all bound to go very wrong.

Unpredictably, what happened next in 1975 was crucial to me. The senior Chief Executive, Leonard Dally and his Assistant, Alan Chorley had interviewed and taken on a West Indian man whom they both decided to sack. The poor man, in his early 20’s, could not be understood by everyone with his broken accent. Yes, to me sacking him was racial prejudice but on advice elsewhere he took proceedings and appealed through an Industrial Tribunal at Ebury Road Court, Victoria, London for unfair dismissal by the Society. (there was no racial discrimination law then) All Executive Staff, including me, were asked to write a statement supporting the management. I declined to do so but was called by the Society to give evidence at the Tribunal. The Society’s top management could not countenance my evidence being in any way unfavourable so I was cross-examined in Court late in the day and arraigned as a ‘hostile witness’ by the so-called defence. In my opinion, the Society had sacked the young man on grounds of his colour. I thought the Society could have given him some support to improve his pronunciation and use of English. After all, immigration was quite prevalent at the time and the borough of Southall had become a commune in the suburbs west of London – known to all in the 50’ and 60’.

The next step the Society took was to take away my office keys and leave me to rot at home. They also collected my office car and made no contact for over 3 weeks. I then had to review my future with a disapproving wife. Aside from all that my wife had, a year or so earlier, gone off the rails by joining the Samaritans and brought about my attempted suicide by wanting to live with and wife-swap with another volunteer Samaritan. Later on, that episode and others inspired me to write my 3rd book namely, WILDEST DREAMS: Living One Day At A Time. I defined and categorised it as new ‘Romantic Realism’ taking the same embrace as my 2nd book, BROKEN DREAMS: Living Without The Past (unmarried girl, planning 12 children – yes it was real).

From a professional and employment point of view, following my dismissal, I had to take an enforced sabbatical and took up an old hobby and craft as a skilled wood turner, joined a friend painting and decorating for a period of 6 months and took up playing badminton and squash etc. However, I was given some financial compensation amounting to a mere 6 months pay by reporting  I was ‘sick’ with depression from being sacked unfairly.

After months of trying to return to my profession, I was taken on by the East Surrey Building Society as Office Manager in 1976. Unfortunately, I was more qualified than anyone else on the staff. I then had to think how I could re-establish myself in the Building Society world, with a family to support and concluded I had to ‘massage’ my curriculum vitae discreetly by discounting my unemployment due to the Industrial Tribunal and by reducing my job changes. Finally, I was taken on by the Bexhill-on-Sea Building Society on the 1st December, 1980. But, by pure chance, up to then ever opportunity had been denied me by George Ball, who was a colleague working at the same Society (Accountant and Secretary of the East Surrey Building Society, going for the same jobs as me. He was also taken in the same car (mine) and because he turned down every offer I was given no offer at all as second best in seniority at the Society. You must have met someone like that in your own lifetime – fussy, making ‘inconvenience’ an excuse and being indecisive. My opportunity did however come when he got tired of going to interviews and when his wife finally lost patience with him.

Initially, I had to find temporary accommodation to live in or near Bexhill to take up the appointment on 1st December 1980. My first lodging, apart from family, was with Tom Tyner, a retired Grammar School Teacher and his brother, living at Sharpe’s Farm, Henley’s Down. It was more a title rather than an actual farm. So, some 6 months later with my wife’s approval we found a suitable property in the village of Crowhurst, East Sussex, where I still live today but without wife or children.

When I took up my appointment as Chief Executive and as the Society’s Accountant and Secretary, I discovered I had 9 staff and one Branch Office at Little Common. I understood that the Board of the ‘Bexhill’ appointed me firstly because I was anti-merger and had the right experience and qualifications to satisfy the Society’s needs and those laid down, in no uncertain terms, by the Building Societies Commission. At the time the Government were beginning to interfere more and more and the Board had to suffer agonising publicity in the local press when Ray Tutton, as Secretary, was ‘asked’ to leave on the day before I took up my duties, to comply with the requirements of the Commission. Life can be tough all round.

As I have said, after 6 months at Henley’s Down my wife and I bought the property at  5, Woodland Way, Crowhurst as a family home with 4 bedrooms set into the hillside with a garden covering about 2/3rds of an acre.  A few months later I was invited to join the Committee of the Bexhill Horticultural Society where I took over, as an active member for some years responsible for printing and publication of the Schedule – 3 times a year. By then I had purchased a rotary ploughing machine and undertaken a complete overhaul of my new garden by creating a vegetable patch and creating a well stocked terraced garden with specimen trees on 5 or so different levels.

However, the peace did not last very long as 5 years later, my wife and I separated due to her ‘personal’ reasons for divorce but not for any of mine. She also took my daughter with her to live in Eastbourne for a while which left me at home by myself (son at college and employed). The events were quite traumatic, so much so that later, I used the events in our marriage as inspiration for my 3rd book, WILDEST DREAMS: Living One Day At A Time (mentioned earlier). To finish the trilogy of ‘DREAM’ books I wrote my 5th book in the series (about 5 years later), ENDLESS DREAMS: Eroticism For Adults Only which as the title suggests was too much for some poor souls. One in particular was my sister, who vehemently objected and wrote saying she had despatched my books to the waste bin (except the first one about Great Tew) which moved me to write my 6th book entitled MAUREEN ROLY-POLY: Get Thee To A Nunnery. In all honesty it was the most offensive letter anyone could write and receive of course. How could I resist being inspired by such censure.

Elsewhere, when my wife Carol was at Eastbourne, our son Andrew went to live at Galleywood, Chelmsford and later our daughter Joanne chose to live in Carlisle after her car accident abroad when she injured her neck, making her a virtual invalid after her driver fell asleep at the wheel and hit roadside rocks. I am proud to say both my children have attended university and established themselves in life to some degree with degrees.

After 13 years, in 1993, the Bexhill-on-Sea Building Society members were asked to vote on a proposed merger with the Bradford and Bingley Building Society (now converted to a PLC) having been given the Board’s recommendation but with little choice from a rather overbearing Building Society Commission. The merger was approved and the engagements transferred in November 1993. I dealt with the formalities of accounting, audit and transfer on behalf of the society as well as the members and reluctantly had to accept compensation for the loss of office. It meant also that I was not able to follow my chosen career in the locality with the demise of Building Societies generally into PLC’s – more towards banks who now grant mortgages but are not ‘mutual’ with investors. It all signalled the end of mutuality with Government interference bringing about the concept of banking as profit for shareholders – rather speculatively. We all know how that turned out to our cost with bailed-out banks and being subjected to years of who-to-blame politics.

The seeds had been sown earlier by the Conservative Party under Margaret Thatcher who deregulated the Banks (being then able to offer 105% mortgages) with no equivalent strategy or opportunity given to Building Societies for their defence and with the Building Societies Commission on their backs. The sale of council houses as well as school playing fields and galloping inflation did not help. On top of all that it was also a case of undue interference by the Commission which was ill-informed, out of its depth with no specialised qualifications, no personal experience or employment in Societies least of all as executives, as accountants or with any experience of secretarial duties. It was a matter of educating them and for them to report unchallenged. Sadly, the ‘Bexhill’ was treated as if it was the Halifax Building Society when we were only one third the size of a ‘Halifax’ branch office.

To recap slightly, my employment with the ‘Bexhill’ came to an end in 1993. Before that, my father came to live next door to us at 3, Woodland Way where after 3 years he died in 1986 – that, strangely, was the opportunity my wife had been waiting for. After 20 years of marriage (roughly the same period I was a blood donor) she wanted nothing more than the money I (or we both) would have inherited from my father which amounted to the odd £50,000. It is strange that some people are easily satisfied when they see a glowing opportunity to make good. She took nothing else I had provided as a man, father, husband, provider, gardener, or socialite, because she had sullied her wanton virtue with the gossip that was going round and round in the village. It weighed so heavily on her conscience she could not sleep benignly.

Up until 1990 I had not thought of becoming an author but realised that the opportunity was there and was not to be lost or wasted. I decided to self-publish and my first book was printed in 1991, GREAT TEW : Living In The Past. I realised back then that telling the truth was controversial when challenged defensively. In my defence I dismissed the dishonesty and the derision it drew as mere pride and prejudice. I then looked back on my life and took one episode at a time to create a living autobiography.

So, guess what? Intrinsically, all that left me wondering about the nature of people at work, at play as men and women, parenthood, responsibility and true virtue. Allowing for inadequacies, sadly, my world has been rendered destitute by my wife and by my sister who both in turn played a self-righteous role in my life. Yes, as I said, my sister Maureen objected to my 5th book, namely, ENDLESS DREAMS: Eroticism For Adults Only. The title gave it away precisely but Maureen had her own sense of propriety about life and men and had never learnt about many, many things to develop maturity – which was, in her case, sadly lacking. Well, all that was as may-be.

However, the controversy did not end there as I had spent 10 years testing the credibility of Readers Digest which sadly they had failed to live up to or achieve, even remotely, which brought about my 7th book READERS inDIGESTion: Cooking The Books For 10 Years. I await their indulgence, even appraisal to the exposure now FREE on the Internet. I have to ask, what was their true nature? They made a pretence of honesty – promises, promises.


My full list of books.

GREAT TEW: Living In The Past.

BROKEN DREAMS: Living Without The Past.

WILDEST DREAMS: Living One Day At A Time.


ENDLESS  DREAMS: Eroticism For Adults Only.

MAUREEN ROLY-POLY: Get Thee To A Nunnery.

READERS inDIGESTion: Cooking The Books For 10 Years.




The last item/report concerns Internet fraud by fraudsters using PayPal to deceive me into believing it was PayPal. How was I to know? It developed slowly under cover to trap and cause me to lose £18,750. In the latter part I set the traps to uncover the 2 main fraudsters but on reflection the police and my bank have been contributory factors (wasting months and months) deserving the ongoing attention of the Police Watchdog namely the Independent Police Complaints Commission in whose hands the balance will rest.

I am currently writing and finalising a new exposure of misdeeds in the NHS and associated Private Health Cover previously with BUPA and now since 2015 with AXA who put the patient second or do I mean 3rd, 4th, or last – just to be ignored, but we will see.

INEPTITUDE – ‘The GANG of FIVE’. With a note – The current face of capitalism is not in the public interest and is unacceptable. 

ASIDE FROM WRITING, other Interests Include:-

Horticulture, fine arts, sport particularly football, boxing and snooker, gym work and personal fitness, travel, architecture, historic sites, theatre, wood turning, music including jazz, leroc dancing, eating out and enjoying a healthy diet. The writing of books has become a current interest put under titles to expose reality including ‘Romantic Realism’, ‘Consumerism’, Counter Pursuit’, ‘Eroticism’, ‘Satirical Relations’ and ‘Commercialism’. After all that I will have to beat the record and live to be 117. Who really knows? But, to summarise, I would like to feel I fulfilled my true function in life as a rebel with a cause.