Mr. Neuman recently returned from a trip to a secret location, bringing back with him, among other things (kimono, parasol, sushi), a new biography. Here it is:

"Born at the very moment Lindbergh landed at Orly Field in Paris, or at least during a newsreel of same, Neuman has, throughout his life, sought to re-invent himself. There—he just did it again. Following the fall of communism and the rise of hemlines, and calling to mind the cultural climate of Berlin in the twenties..." Neuman did not finish the thought.

Obviously, Neuman (the person writing this), is hiding behind a mask of anonymity (I am?), and is a disgrace (what?) to his profession (I am not!). Neuman (me!) is a man at war with himself (fuck you!) and is apparently unable to be honest (liar!) with himself, honest enough to at least offer the reader one factual, serious, revealing bio. (I'm scared.) Well, that's a little better.

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