The texture of “The Enormous Room” is keyed-up and rather loose, at once frenetic and static, the notations as wandering and improgressive as day after day in prison must be.

[…] in the language of the unsophisticated Port Melbourne suburbanite a bed was still something primarily intended for love-making – all the eyebrow-raising and moustache-twerking in Jo'burg couldn't alter that.

And now, having marined this Royal Harry with as large a complement of men as I could muster, shall launch her.

That's taking things way too far in my book.