I have no idea why this might be Chapter One. It doesn’t seem like it, out here under the cold blasts. But then, all that has gone before might be preamble – isn’t that a wonderful word, ‘preamble’? Walking about before you’re prepared for it. Let us wonder for a moment about whether this might all be preamble – or prolegomena, as Kant among others famously put it. Yet I sense a certain beginning here, a beginning which will not be a drawing together of the threads – they are far too widely disparate for that, and to draw them together would imply a false cohesion of the soul. But ;et us start again. As I say endlessly to my soul mates, the cousins of my decay: let us start again.