ABSTRACT
I’ve been angry all week, grinding teeth as I plough through articles and books on research ethics. My neck is screaming as if some amateur has been plying it with acupuncture needles. The burglar alarm has gone offagain-in the house across the road from where I am writing and it screams a horrid but perfectly phrased soundtrack to my state. Wha-ooh-wha-oohwha-ooh-wha-ooh-wha-ooh. Pointless, witless, blues wailing.
