They push on under the hail of arrows to which they can make no reply, and try to save their unvisored faces by charging blindly heads down.

I have a fascist boss.

India is merely the geopsychic site for a cluster of undesirabilities that continue to be illicitly desired.

Now we are liberal with our innermost secrets, spraying them into the public ether with a generosity our forebears could not have imagined. Where we once sent love letters in a sealed envelope, or stuck photographs of our children in a family album, now such private material is despatched to servers and clouds operated by people we don't know and will never meet.