The debate was totally baffling me. I had barely regained conciousness after a mid-evening snooze and all that filled my ears were the shrill, cutting voices of The Treasurer and Belgian, gibbering inanely about the nature of ‘4′. 4 has always struck me as being a pretty shit number, and I was more than a little upset that I had fouled myself during my trip to Nap-town. I was later to tell the police that this was, probably, what pushed me over the edge that evil night. My only concern was to shut up the Treasurer, whose ‘4′ is like aggregates analogy was utterly gratuitous, beyond the point at which his personal liberty could retain intact. “The irreconcilability of the differend is a salient feature of post-modern discourse” I told him, while pushing an un-opened sack of Monster Munch in