I spent my time wondering why any friend of mine would ring me up at 11pm and rant at me for an hour, calling me a Nazi, threatening to blow the lid on a whole bunch of little secrets that would bring our little social set crashing to its knees (we've all got them, and we all know them, but we don't talk about it in public. We -are- British, you know). Then he called me up again. And then I twigged.

He was stoned.

He was stoned out of his mind.

He was so high he couldn't remember what he said the next time I saw him.

Of course, he probably meant every word. But if he's only got the courage to act when he's stoned, I think we'll be ok. After all, when he's high he barely has the energy to walk across the room, let alone bring down an empire.