If it can't be explained to Sal in the bath, then it's not a genuine thought, says W. That's his test: the bath, Sunday night, he tries to explain his thoughts to Sal. She's merciless, says W. She demands that everything be absolutely clear, he says. She doesn't tolerate vagueness or prevarication. She wants to understand, and if she doesn't, it's invariably my fault, W. says.
Do you remember what she called us when she heard us speak? Vague and boring, says W. You were vague, and I was boring. Or was it te other way round? Either way, She's more intelligent than us, W. says. And she can actually do things, make things, he says. She's more to give to the world than we do.
In fact, all of his friends prefer Sal to him, W. says. Whenever they visit, their first question is always, Where's Sal? They're always disappointed when it's just him, W. says. In fact, even he's disappointed, says W. What is he without Sal? How would he think or write anything if it were not for their weekly bath?
Lars Iyer's Blog 