". . . entertainment. . . ."

Why do you think I'm writing up the saga of you early days, Marty? Pure entertainment (well . . . because it's about you, it can't be all that pure). And it's cute that you keep accusing me of trying to sound intellectual when all I am is a pair of typing hands channeling the soul of a raccoon. But then, to you, a soup can label would probably sound intellectual.

The reason Marty "scans and pans" is that he can't read without moving his lips as he points at the words. He gets dirty finger marks all over his computer screen and after reading more than a paragraph or two, he has to stop because his mouth is tired (not to mention his brain—actually, it's hard to mention his brain at all without having to suppress a guffaw!). That explains the scanning part. He pans anything he doesn't understand, and if you write anything longer than a couple of sentences, by the time he reaches the last sentence, he's forgotten the first, so of course it doesn't make sense to him.

It really amazes me that he's able to handle a word like "intellectual." It's five whole syllables! Now, if he only had at least a foggy idea of what the word means. . . .

Don Firth