Every single person has a mythology that speaks to them. It's a philosophy that appeals to their head and their heart, an amalgamation of everything they believe in, with just the right amount of drama and pragmatism.

For me it's always been Catholicism. Don't get me wrong - I've always had a soft spot for comparative religion, and am as happy reading about Tiki gods and Horus as anyone.

But when it comes to mythologies that make a beeline for my imagination, it's Catholicism hands down. F...

Cactoblasta would make the best president for three reasons. He will get respect from foreign nations, he has all the necessary experience, and he will lead the nation through the turbulent times we face.

We all know the value of a good dictionary. For a child or a young adult making their way in a world of antiquated literature and the diseased mutterings of the overly erudite, a dictionary is a good friend, a fine companion and an essential aide in gaining the vocabulary of adulthood.

Where it fails is in any other usage. Now, don't get me wrong - a good dictionary can probably stop a small bullet in a pinch, or be used for starting a fire.

But when you're looking to define your position in an argument a dictionary is a liability.

You see, dictionaries aren't written by the spectral god of the English language, or put together by a magical team of accuracy pixies in a mystical fairyland of unconvincingly rhythmic hammers and toys.

I have a habit.

 In the greater scheme of things it's not a bad habit. Certainly it's one I can live with. A fat pay-out from your charity of choice would of course be a wonderful help, and several weeks in the luxury of a prestigious detox clinic wouldn't go astray if you're willing to finance it.

But it's a hard habit to break.

 You see, I'm a habitual devil's advocate, a serial trivialiser, an adherent of argument and pettiness for their own sake. I would argue the sky green to spite someone who annoys me. In person I'm quite good at it. Baffling people with bullshit and outlandish statements is merely the first level; the true art lies in creating a towering edifice of fast-spun philosophy, pseudo-religious koans and the very real suggestion of fact which combines to persuade others that there's something to the whole. No one is ever quite sure you're serious about anything, which adds a layer of potential authenticity to even the most abysmal garbage. Your consistency in argument becomes more convincing than your argument itself, which is always a happy situation. It's the foundation of economics and the wellspring of our modern age.