Second question of the day . . . . . 

Why, if you were so deeply unattractive in soul and spirit and dysfunctional as a human being bereft of any intellect, taste or discernible talent would you allow yourself to be photographed? Did he not realise that such provincial small minded little Englander reactionary shallowness shows distinctly in the face? Ugly people are ugly because their inner struggles to be anything else are thus revealed. Perhaps Larkin detested himself more than he detested us? I doubt it . . . . . . . nasty small minded misogynistic misanthropic shallow little man who's poesy is vastly overrated and of little consequence or meaning to anyone other than himself and his ilk. Read his 'Letters to Monica' to realise the true shallows of the racist egotistical librarian at his peak of emotional dysfunction.

“Work is a kind of vacuum, an emptiness, where I just switch off everything except the scant intelligence necessary to keep me going. God, the people are awful - great carved monstrosities from the sponge-stone of secondratedness. Hideous.“ 

Philip Larkin

"They f**k you up, your Mum and Dad . . . . ." no they don't,  you did that all on your own you pompous insignificant little slug of a man!  Comparing yourself to Yeats in this is so laughable and the arrogance to aim at Stephenson's 'Requiem' which it comes nowhere near.  Perhaps you had the good grace to be attempting sarcasm. I know it inspires it in me as I re-read both. You are just wrong and you alone are responsible for everything you are and everything you said and did, little of it of any consequence. But revealed by your sad damp limp letters to people so bereft of any mildly attractive attributes they share your misanthropy. 

Home is the librarian home from his domain, cycle clips still stuck to his legs and his pate spattered rudely by rain . . . . . .