Excerpt from a Letter to a Friend

I will stay in the Skull Club until I cannot.

It's a huge loft, and I've spent thousands of dollars and hours creating the Perfect Creative Environment. I simply refuse to leave and hand all of that over to a bunch of simpering weasels.
I won't.

Honestly, I love it there, but it's a little like being The Man In The Tower Room.
In fact, that's exactly who I have become;
The Hermit of Spain Street.

Once I step outside that front door, and begin to wade through through the trash of American Spirit cigarette butts, Modela Negro beer bottles, dog shit and general litter, I quickly become overcome with the despair of anyone who sees something they love be violated by ignorant trash.

On the other hand, and this is most important, it is incumbent on me to maintain The Last Liberty Outpost. I sometimes put on my top hat & velvet pants and ride my bicycle past them all, making the point of who & what this place was, and can be.

Until creativity, itself, falls victim to these empty heads and vapid hearts, it is the duty of Those Who Came Before to stand hard & fast against the rising tide of idiots.

- Lord David, the Hermit of Spain Street