Dear Cyndy, As always, I have no choice but to write down what's on my mind in real time, because for better or worse, an hour later, it will have been displaced. Procrastination would wipe the slate clean and leave me with no thoughts at all. You commented on my style. The notes to which I send you URL's, when they are prefixed with "d" are nominal diary entries, not addressed to anyone in particular, but written to record for possible later reconsideration, thoughts that have just occurred to me. Notes prefixed with "f" are drafts for pages in the novel, when prefixed with "e", they are revisions of such drafts in English. Notes with the suffix ".html" are formatted versions for posting on my website. When I write to you, I strive to be aware of your thoughts and feelings, to the extent that I understand, and I try to formulate my thoughts so as not to embarrass or offend you. I often find it difficult to make myself clear. It may or may not be the experiences of my Protestant (Lutheran) childhood, that caused my protagonist Jonathan Mengs, in Chapter 1 of Die Andere, to declare that with his emphasis on the Word (of God), Martin Luther turned religion into the study of literature and turned the study of literature into a religion. That in retrospect has proved to be my experience and suggests an answer to your question, for whom am I writing my novels? My novels are addressed to the journal club of the Angels, who, as I understand, to inhibit global warming, no longer incinerate unwanted submissions but have them recycled. Of the two Biblical references in my recent notes, one, Chapter 53 of Isaiah, was to the Bible; the other John 18:37, to the New Testament. I've never had occasion to parody Isaiah's verses. I conclude from them that our efforts to distinguish good from evil are often, if not always, unsuccessful. cf http://home.earthlink.net/~ernstmeyer/andere/E07.html So far as the trial of Jesus described by St. John is concerned, I would point out, first of all, that if he was not a lawyer, St. John certainly thinks, - and writes - like one, with much attention to detail and circumstances, and recurrent citations of precedent and prior decisions. (If you were interested, I could elaborate.) I think this trial has universal significance. It not only permits, it requires to be parodied. There's something amiss with the reader, believer or infidel, who finds it necessary, in order to be spared confrontation with its truth, to embalm that trial in sanctimonious piety. From the perspective not of Religion but of Literature, the imperative to the Christian to be "Christlike", to "imitate" Christ, or in German to "follow" him (nachfolgen), seems to me utterly compelling as dialectic: because this imperative is universally ignored, because from Il Papa on down, they do, all of them, do exactly the opposite. I've stumbled on the metaphor of the optical illusion, the trick picture, (Vexierbild) which is interpreted by the brain, now to conceal, now to reveal an embedded reality, as relevant not only to the ethical perception that bad=good, but also to the theological puzzle that man=god. If I'm not mistaken, the Quakers have been for centuries, discovering "that of God in every man." It strikes me that if I want to depict Katenus as emblem and example of ultimate humanity, I cannot avoid subjecting him to the humiliation or exaltation of his appearance as innocent/guilty in a conceptual (quasi-optical) illusion (Vexierbild) of his own. I must cast him in a Passion Play, even if on first thought, Liar Island is remote from Oberammergau. On second thought, the distance may not be so great. Jochen