Come not thy tardy fan to chide, dear Master. My seance seeking news of your after-well-being failed to make contact, but I encountered two strange spirits bickering over your unfinished novel The Original of Laura. Each was demanding exclusive editing rights, promising to present the completed work to you on your 111st birthday (that’s only 7 in binary). One, named Bunny, claimed he would expand your text ten-fold, and as an added bonus to delight you, would translate the result into a Russian verse-epic with Pushkinesque iambic tetrameters. “Over my dead body,” screamed the other spirit, who called himself Lish. “TOoL is bloated beyond belief. My dear friend Vladimir will be overwhelmed when he sees my creative surgery. There’s a wonderful Haiku lurking behind those rambling cards.” The vision faded before I could determine the outcome. I will dust the old Ouija board and try again tomorrow. Dying to meet you! So many questions!
Stan Kelly-Bootle