"I shall burn the city." This motto appeared on the shield of Capaneus in Seven Against Thebes and it struck terror in the hearts of his enemies. I have taken that very phrase as my motto not because I am planning to become a career arsonist, but because it is a reminder of the power of the individual. As Achilles could turn the tide of battle, as Hektor alone could defend a city, so can the individual, even in these quotidian days, reach the mythic heights.

My shield and sword, as of late, is a word processor. Nightly, the program loads, sounding like a thousand cockroaches tap dancing, as I rack my brains for a better plan. The shimmering city of literature is begging to be torched! It is fortified with dry wood.

I believe that in many ways, the present age is a rather undistinguished one. For example, my favorite form of communication, writing, has suffered to the extent where the well-written letter is a rare find. But I have not despaired my generation yet. I believe in the power of the individual and I believe that with a little guidance I might become a very powerful individual at that.

Me, in short: Since the age of five, I have been able to spout words like "quotidian" or "anthropocentric." I tried to read Finnegans Wake when I was eleven, and only in the midst of the second chapter did I admit that I was baffled. I am contemptuous and jealous of mathematicians as I have never been able to do long division. While working as a volunteer at the American Museum of Natural History, I suffered one of the most humiliating experiences of my life. I was assigned to the "Dino Cart," a portable sales unit replete with glow-in-the-dark dinosaur keychains and a cash register. The problem was that the cash register was not one of those marvels of technology that tell you how much change is owed to the customer. I was stuck, horror of horrors, doing the computations in my head! I had the change all figured out for a dinosaur aficionado when he handed me two pennies. He had to count his change five times. From that moment on, I promised myself that I would send a copy of my first published story to that tourist with the spanking-new, glow-in-the-dark dinosaur keychain and case. I do not like to be thought of as mentally deficient.

I prefer the company of friends rather older than myself and stay up late into the night discussing matters of intellectual concern. I am, perhaps, a bit affected but never, I hope, to the extent of appearing ridiculous. I am not uncomfortable being alone for long periods of time and a little pleased to be perceived of as a bit "offbeat." I am consciously intellectual, sometimes pompous, but always distinctly me. I have lofty aspirations, but I feel I have the ability to achieve them. I have a prominent ego, a lively sense of humor, maturity, and a sense of style. I am focused, eager, and happy person, and I can already smell smoke.

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