Dear Sir or Madam,

As the ascetics of India have often said, “It is good to beg[in].” And thus I begin. I have deemed this humourish cartoonograph series worthy of my auspices, and this venture shall mark the course upon which I shall steer my yacht of prosperity and consummate genius into the World Wide Waters. I am The Gentleman — in a gentry unto myself. It is a pleasure for you to make my acquaintance.

I am put in mind of a time before, when I was still ‘un gentilhomme incorporel.’ In my middle-youth, I was known to frequent the local fairs, which the common people would often hold as a form of penance or something. The air would be thick with the odour of vomit and salt and the vomiting salts that people in those days would take for amusement and health. The children would cut free from their mother skirts and consume syrups and saccharines until they collapsed twitching to bake in the August sun. Coloured ribbons would be awarded to the farmer with the largest fruit/vegetable/goiter/wife. It was there, amidst the sparkle and spectacle, that I began my long-standing relationship with my first love — deep-fried snuff — without which I would surely not be your Gentleman to-day.

Yours Faithfully, The Gentleman of the Site