I construct silly things with a view to deconstructing sillier things.

Or, to put it another way, there's nothing I enjoy more than poking fun at the absurd, be it platitude, presumption, prejudice, or superstition.

Or, to put it another way, Ducks.

The amazing thing about ducks is that such great importance is placed on one getting them all in a row. It would be useful to know who exactly decided that ducks should be used as a benchmark for whether or not one’s affairs are in order. It would be useful to know this because then that person could be blamed for all the world’s woes instead of God or the Devil, both of whom, let's face it, quite often get a bum rap when it comes to matters of worldly disorder. The man - or woman - should be named, blamed and shamed… and then perhaps tarred, feathered and quartered. Or is that feathered, drawn and hung? In any event, choosing ducks was clearly a mistake. Ducks do not like to be herded. When herded they behave much like cats. But they are noisier… ducks, that is. And, most frustratingly, ducks have an uncanny ability to know just when it is that one most requires them to perambulate in a linear fashion. It is at this precise moment that they will behave like the ten men in Python’s hundred-yard dash for people with absolutely no sense of direction. Of course, left to their own devices, ducks will quite happily fly in a beautiful, very ‘in-a-row’ fashion. Try to herd them, however, and…

If any of this makes sense to you, flush your medication, gnaw through the leather straps, and let's go change the world.