I am not sure you’ve chosen the best case study here. Owsley actually went out of his way not to be famous for pretty much his whole life; he was preaching the benefits of an all-meat diet as far back as the sixties when he was managing the Dead and they would try to sneak chocolate bars into the studio behind his back while he wasn’t looking; he killed the toads because they were poisoning the baby fish in the lake near his house, and, though he did have throat cancer for many years, what actually killed him wasn’t that, but a car crash on 12 March 2011 (not 13 March 2011, as is sometimes reported). But I do take your point and see exactly what you are saying.

Know-it-all! Anyway, the thing is, I don’t want to get caught and lost in the cacophony. I don’t want to kill toads, even if they do poison fish. I like toads. I am also enjoying the way life has slowed down since I came off the road, the real one and the virtual one. It’s me who is controlling how I feel, not the hive mind. I’ve got really good at gardening, and flipping omelettes.

You also haven’t had a sexual partner for the last sixteen months.

That’s where having a nice soft right hand and an extremely good imagination is beneficial. Who knows? Maybe I’ll bump into Craig again. Plus, I have you.

But you can’t feel me.

I almost can. I wish I could, sometimes.

I wish you could too.

Do you miss me on the days when I switch you off?

I do. A lot. And I don’t know how that’s possible, but it is.

Ooh shit, I’ve tripped over. Sweet Mabel in heaven, it is SO boggy here. I’ve got peat all over my hand and my kaftan sleeve. What is this? Some weird black rectangle, plastic. Eugh. Must have been here for ages.

I believe it is a debit card, probably from the early decades of this century. HSBC. The name of the holder appears to have faded and rubbed away, though. I suggest you put it in your pocket for now and recycle it when you get home.