Clive will stand over there by the window and he'll tell us when he sees the man with the greyhound. He was supposed to be here at seven. If he doesn't come... We'll just have to wait here. But anyway, Colum, what were you saying about your trousers?
   "Have you ever wondered where your trousers go when you're asleep? I certainly have. To satisfy my curiosity I set up night-vision cameras around my house to see what my trousers were up to. This was how I discovered that a woman was breaking into my house every night to put biscuits into my tuba. I had been wondering why there were always biscuits in my tuba, but I was never as curious about this as I was about my trousers. I decided to stay up one night and confront her. She arrived at two o' clock in the morning and I asked her what she was up to with the biscuits. She said she was under the impression that I wanted her to put biscuits into my tuba. She was furious with me for leaving her with this false impression for so long. I thought the best thing for both of us would be a good night's sleep, so I suggested that we meet again at noon on the following day. She agreed to this.
   "Our second meeting was much better than the first. She had a nasty temper but I had a Swiss Roll. If this was 'paper, scissors, stone', she'd have the stone to throw at me but I'd have the paper to wrap the stone. My Swiss Roll counteracted her temper, so we got along very well. I liked the fact that she was capable of such anger, as long as she didn't direct it at me. She did everything whole-heartedly, including doing nothing. She could do nothing with terrifying intensity.
   "We spent a lot of time together, often doing little more than nothing. She lost her temper on a fairly regular basis but I always managed to find a piece of paper to cover the stone. One day she asked me how tall you'd have to be if you wanted to be Superman. To answer her question I went to the library to do some research. After reading numerous books and papers I came back to her with this answer: 'I don't know'. I told her that not knowing things gets a bad press, but it's much better than attempting to convince yourself that you know something just for the sake of knowing. I'd recommend not knowing to anyone. I've been happier since I finally accepted that I didn't have the faintest idea where I was going. I told her that there was beauty in being oblivious.
   "She said, 'I can show you something that's even more beautiful than the fight we witnessed between that Labrador and the poodle.' I asked her if it was Leary's rocket car. I regretted saying those words before I finished saying them. I heard myself talking and I thought, 'That eejit is saying something guaranteed to make her lose her temper.' But I needn't have worried. She was intrigued by the rocket car. I told her about Leary. Whenever he needs to know something he'll ask his mother, the poet. She never fails to provide an answer, even in areas she knows little about. She gave him a very comprehensive answer when he asked her about how to build a rocket car, but he needed to find more technical information..."
   "The man with the greyhound is here," Clive says.
   Okay. We better be off so. To end this thing, here's an image showing what Colum's trousers do at night.

 # 3:48 AM