What's in a Name?

William Shatner taught me a lot about what it is to grow older. I watched avidly as he wrestled men in rubber suits (often losing his shirt) and women in green body makeup (often losing his shirt). At this time he was James T Kirk, a laughing loving fighting hero. Later they swapped his initials and he became T J Hooker. Thankfully he no longer lost his shirt, although occasionally his hair would lift. Thomas Jefferson Hooker (Presidential? American?) James Tiberius Kirk (Imperial? American?). Miss AFJ Dover, when her ribs are healed, can perform an excellent "TJ Hooker roll" to steal the duvet I wouldn't call it elegant but it is effective.
She is sitting next to me at the moment writing her PHD while I ponder the rejection email I received from the fair Fiona at Standpoint. At first I paid it no mind, merely filing it in my (quite full) rejection folder. Since then, however, it has begun to trouble me. Why did I receive an email when it stated on the entry form that no further communication would be entered into? Miss Dover did not receive a rejection email. Indeed because of this she still holds some hope (a little bag is packed by the front door) calling out "Standpoint!" as every email arrives. All I can think is that, in my old age, I have become, like Mel Gibson (sort of), an artworld paranoiac. Did anyone else get that email?



This is another matter. At work we have just received these instructions on filling out the electronic registers. It looks straightforward enough.