On one hand, journalists are known for writing in any and all situations: from the backs of camels or the tense dampness of foxholes. They do this because it's their job and it's got to be done, whether the conditions are right for writing or not. On the other hand, journalists are not known for their brilliant writing.

And I, bone-tired from too much work and not enough sleep, standing in a crowded, operational bush kitchen, am not writing brilliantly.

My brain hurts, and I want to offer you some sort of insight in it all but there is just too much confusion going on around me. Last night, for instance, I had a good robust argument with the resident determinist on my crew, Binyam. Normally this would provide me with a lot of fodder for my rant-o-logical cannon (canon?). But when it is all I can do just to keep my thrashed fingers typing, the best I can offer anybody who comes here for my better writing is this: see you later.