One other individual, looking more doughy and feeble than Assange, was saidto be his ghostwriter. Just like in Polanski's film, the chap carried out assomeone waiting for a GPS fixed SUV to relegate him anywhere, as long as it'sGatwick. A week ago it was learned the memoir jotted down in name of Assange, which the writer swore not to leak, will never be printed. Juliancalled off the £850,000 deal quite abruptly, no one knows why, subsequent totaking an advance from Canongate Books.Next, a debutant named Jemima Khan debuted the premises. For a shortwhile it was as if everyone were perplexed, not be to witnessing an activistbut an actual Independent associate editor with a sound check book. It thenstruck me a bit odd, the whole 'Wikileaks in dire need of donations' thing. A)One never heard of any Wikileaks members in existence other than JA. B) Itdidn’t seem like the Smiths "freedom of info" types as they were, and loadedwith cash, will ever refuse to endorsement. Having said that, it's obviousJulian would face much harder time getting money whilst in Sweden, theequivalent of daytime prison for him. (Sun never sets wise).I then discovered that a different kind of guest, priceless (and missing). Hisname:
Slavoj Žižek, the Slovenian philosopher and one of Assange's closest
pals. On July 2nd the two eBayed lunch with themselves at the Ivy, only to geta few thousand quid per person in return. Not only that, all eight winnerscame from the same consulting firm. Assange must've wanted to hang himself right there just out of yawn.In any case, appeased by those who did come, wearing an all white endless-vacation suite and rampant hairdo, birthday boy seemed gleeful, some wouldsay not waving but drowning, but still very much gratified. Two satin-gownedgirls running around gave it the feel of a proper summer wedding after-all.From a distance I wished him 'many happy returns'. He seemed transfixed,swiveled at me while omitting to nod.