Knowledge may be found here, but not wisdom.

What's your name?

Joseph Kynaston Reeves. Kynaston Reeves is my surname: it's double-barrelled without being hyphenated, like Lloyd George and Bonham Carter. (That's a short Y, by the way: as in "tryst", not "ply".) People generally call me Jo.

Why Jo and not Joe? Isn't that a bit of a girl's name?

Don't ask me. Everyone else spells it that way, and I just decided to follow suit. Something about me seems to bring out the with-no-E spelling in people. Interesting phenomenon.

So why Squander Two?

I am part of a band called Squander Pilots. We used to hang out with another band called Single Point of Light. Lovely bunch of guys. For reasons best known to themselves, SPoL decided to number us one day. Maybe it was revenge for being called SPoL. They named Donna Squander One; she's now blogging under the name of Sister Phonetica. I was Squander Two, and liked the name so much that I'm still using it. Colin was Squander Three; he left the band and became first Kid Twist then Drums Of Death. Alun was Squander Four, but is now and has always been known as Alun. Ronnie was, briefly, later, Squander Five, sort of. Then he changed his name to Lazybrown. And John is now Squander Six. Yes, we all have silly names and should be ashamed of ourselves. Except Alun.

Why do you hate Scotland so?

Because I used to live there and don't have amnesia.

Seriously, though, Scotland is both the best and the worst place on Earth. I fucking hate Scotland. I love Scotland. Especially Glasgow. I really, really detest Glasgow, quite possibly the greatest city in the world, and, as for Glaswegians, they're wonderful, friendly people, a real pleasure to be around, the violent, malingering scum.

Is Steve in?

No. Go away.

How's the book coming along?

Chapter Two's finished, thanks. I reckon I'll have the whole thing finished this decade. Maybe. And it shouldn't take more than, oh, ten years to get a bloody publisher.

Is it actually any good?

Well, Gary likes Chapter One, and Gary is always right. Except about, oh, all sorts of things. I suppose you'll just have to wait and see.

Is it true that you're married to Vic Reeves?

Not the Vic Reeves, no. Don't be silly.

My wife's name is Victoria, but everyone has always called her Vic. It really suits her, actually. Anyway, this is why it's very important to remember that our surname is double-barrelled. Not that anyone ever does. And, yes, people call me Bob when they find out. My aching sides.

Who's your favourite author?

Right now, Tim Dorsey. Honorary mentions to Michael Marshall Smith, Iain M Banks, and Terry Pratchett. This is the greatest book ever written.

Who's your favourite band?

No-man. Their last couple of albums haven't been up to their usual standard, in my opinion, but Lovesighs: An Entertainment, Loveblows & Lovecries: A Confession, Wild Opera, and Lost Songs: Volume One, are some of the greatest albums ever recorded — and not many bands can claim to have created four perfect albums. Yes, the titles of the first two are farcically awful. When the music's that good, I can forgive bad titles.

You only like No-man in order to be wilfully obscure, don't you?

Funnily enough, I got into them assuming they were going to be chart-stormers. It never occurred to me that such a poppy band would manage to remain so unheard-of for so long. Poor bastards.

What's your favourite Squander Pilots recording?

It's a split decision between Photogenic and The Quiet One. My favourite Squander Pilots song is probably Lifting Up The Night, but we've not recorded that. Yet.

Why did Colin leave the band?

I refuse to pander to your puerile need for spiteful gossip.

How comes you know so much useless crap?

I don't get this question. The world is full of useless crap. We are all surrounded by useless crap every day of our lives. The real question, as far as I'm concerned, is how comes you know so little useless crap? Are you blind?

Any relation to the Kynaston Reeves?

That I can clearly remember the moment when one of my friends asked me this question in 1990 just goes to show how frequently asked it isn't, but I choose to answer it anyway.

Yes, he was my grandfather, and no, I never met him. My dad's his spitting image, and I'm my dad's, so I imagine I probably look a lot like him. Can't see it myself, mind.

Can I see a photo of Phoebe, please?

Of course.

Rest assured that Phoebe will be an occasional feature of the blog.

Is that it?

Yep. For now.