Going by choice to someone else’s war is a way of escape. You find yourself very removed from whatever the roots of your life are. Heroin is another escape and the two fuelled each other. The war ended, I came home and was stuck with just heroin. I think it’s trite to say that war is an addiction but many of the same qualities become apparent in one’s life in war as with an addiction.

From drugs and war, you can often get the same adrenalised rush, there are the same essences of escape, the same unhealthy manifestations in character and behaviour in the two experiences. It’s a comparison which can become contrived, it’s just something that happened to be going on in my life at the time.

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“I’m kind of a big deal around here.”

Thus speaks Ron Burgundy, wide-lapelled star of spoof film Anchorman. In his world, reading the news gives him unquestioning adulation wherever her turns. He goes to decadent parties with scant-clad women begging to get into the hot tub with him. He lives in a splendrous home full of mahogany, and he is used to being taken seriously.
Solemnly, he informs a ladyfriend that San Diego is German for a whale’s vagina. He finishes his newscast with the exhortation to ‘stay classy’. He is treated as a combination of film star and prophet, moron though he is.

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