Sitting on the top floor of the arts centre in one of my far too frequent breaks from revision and glad of any distracting pointless thoughts I started to wonder who wound I invite to my imaginary dinner party??
I'd invite Sylvia Plath to ligten the mood with her cheery thoughts.
I'd invite Wittgenstein also, but please remember there is no 'wit' in Wittgenstein.
I'd invite Nietzsche if he was in a good mood so he could show the modern world its reflection. IF not he can stay at home.
I'd invite T.S.Elliot to sandwich in the philosophers and remind me what we have to lose.
I'd invite Cesar Romero(played the Joker in 1960's Batman) to laugh at my jokers (he had such a great laugh)
I'd invite Salvadorr Dali to paint my picture of random images that could be my portrait.
I'd invite Richard III and tell him not to bother hating himself- for that is the cause of deformity.
Lastly I'd invite Garibaldi. I'd ask him if he was happy about the biscuit named after him. I'd ask him to storm warwick castle with only pasta as weapons.
However no doubt I will have to be content to sit on the top floor of the art centre in absence. Those whose minds are made not just to consume but to produce hide their talents at warwick – they call it blending in.