The blogger’s parents showed great prescience when they chose for him – “mewling and puking” in the priest’s becassocked arms – to be christened with the pseudonym Leonard Mann: the film ‘Leon’ was as of yet not even a glimmer in the infant Luc Besson’s eye, and surely Sally Mann (still young enough to show her age by holding up the fingers of one dimpled hand) had yet to expose, develop and print her first 8×10-inch evocation of the erotic reverie of childhood.
The ‘Sisyphus’ soon sandwiched its way into his name when his parents noted, to their delight, young Leonard’s penchant for rolling near-spherical rocks up steep slopes, and for undertaking other such-like futile and fruitless challenges.
A one-time Pocket Swabber, Leonard spends much of his spare time thinking about Paedophilia, child sexuality and other related issues. Sometimes quite vigorously.
His other interests include Art, Photography, Philosophy, Sociology, Music, Literature, Poetry, Politics, Ecology, Latin and Mycology – all of which (except maybe the last) he hopes, at some point, to shoe-horn into a blog about paedophilia.
Leonard’s ambition is to change the world. Hopefully before lunch time.
Leonard’s grid reference can be found in any good world atlas. If Leonard were to become a millionaire he’d buy himself a new pair of shoe laces as the ones he currently owns have more knots in them than the bastarding Cutty Sark. He is an expert tea-drinker and can speak.
Whenever he sees suspicious characters lurking, Leonard disguises himself as an old Guatemalan woman (called Pedrita) and her donkey (rather unimaginatively called ‘el Burro’). She is married to a wasp farmer. She contributes to the household finances by hiring out her trusty and belovéd old donkey to people wanting to take goods across the harsh, tropical jungle in that country’s northern lowlands (the Petén). She likes, of an evening, to sing the strange, piping, pentatonic folk songs of the now almost disappeared indians that she remembers from her childhood. She sometimes, and for no apparent reason, says ‘yippa, yippa ondolé, ondolé!’, as do all Central Americans.
This blog actually came about by accident. This accident also involved him getting his head badly stuck, finding an old five-shilling piece his grandmother had mislaid decades ago, and him spending several hours unsuccessfully removing Marmite from John Ruskin’s Sesame and Lilies. The sesame actually tasted quite nice afterwards, but the éclat of the lilies couldn’t quite be restored.
This blog will be a potpourri: some posts will be serious and dry, others will be light-hearted and moist. Some will be veritably water-logged.