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< "Yes, well, that's just the sort of blinkered, Philistine pig-ignorance I've   >
< come to expect from you non-creative garbage. You sit there on your loathsome  >
< spotty behinds squeezing blackheads, not caring a tinker's cuss for the        >
< struggling artist, you excrement! You whining, hypocritical toadies with your  >
< Tony Jacklin golf clubs, your colour TVs and your bleedin' Masonic handshakes! >
< You wouldn't let me join, would you, you blackballing bastards?! WELL I        >
< WOULDN'T BECOME A FREEMASON NOW IF YOU GOT DOWN ON YOUR LOUSY STINKING KNEES   >
< AND BEGGED ME!"                                                                >
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