Now I stop to think about it, I’m not altogether infrequently heard to utter that specific phrase.

What does that say about me?

I know they’re only computer games and not real, but my hysterical laughter at the sound of my opponents’ screams as they die horribly can’t be a sign of a healthy, balanced psychology really, can it?

I mean … I’m probably ‘not right’, right?

And then there was that time when, as usual, I braced myself as I approached a high-walled corner of the street, in anticipation of a potential assailant … only to espy someone as I rounded it and hear the voice in my head ¹ say “Aha … potential victim.

Which was a bit of an eye-opener vis a vis who I appear to be as opposed to who I pride myself on being.

Anyhow … (albeit somewhat relevant) navel-gazing aside, what I really came here for was to add a postscript to this …

If you want to get an idea of the sheer brutality of Womack’s thinking then read this …

Talk about dismissive … that’s just harsh — there’s minimalism … and then there’s Womack’s brutalism. I swear it must be part of what turned me into the man I became — my own “Call the Samaritans” thing is so in keeping.

¹ Not as in a voice voice … I’m not schizophrenic … but I caught the internal monologue at work ².

² Which was disturbing … because the concept of the internal monologue is utter nonsense … the product of the mediocre mind … intellectually destitute … and I’ve no time for it ³.

³ Seriously … I’ve got more time even for Jung than I do for that nonsense!

⁴ If obliged to say more than that … for the sake of clarity for the hard of thinking … it’ll only be to add “I hear they love sob stories” — because, frankly, I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire … so, I’m certainly not going to waste any more of my breath on you.



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Where Angels Fear

Where Angels Fear


There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. A high-powered mutant of some kind never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live and too rare to die.