All You Ever Were Was A Little

Dead Air' Is Full Of Rants; It's A Rant-based Book. Yes, It's Self-indulgence. I Plead Guilty; Mea Culpa.

I'm Too Drunk To Recall Much Of What I've Said. Which, Come To Think Of It, Is Probably Just As Well, Judging By The Way People Who Are Normally Quite Sensible Dissolve Into Gibbering, Rude, Opinionated And Bombastic Idiots Once The Alcohol Molecules In Their Bloom-stream Outnumber The Neutrons, Or Whatever. Luckily, One Only Notices This If One Stays Sober Oneself, So The Solution Is As Pleasant (at The Time, At Least) As It Is Obvious.

Perdition Awaits At The End Of A Road Constructed Entirely From Good Intentions, The Devil Emerges From The Details And Hell Abides In The Small Print.

...and I Confess That, Like A Child, I Cry. Ah, Self-pity; I Think We Are At Our Most Honest And Sincere When We Feel Sorry For Ourselves.

I Just Took [my Cancer Diagnosis] As Bad Luck, Basically. It Did Strike Me Almost Immediately, My Atheist Sort Of Thing Kicked In And I Thought "ha, If I Was A God-botherer, I'd Be Thinking, Why Me God? What Have I Done To Deserve This?" And I Thought At Least I'm Free Of That, At Least I Can Simply Treat It As Bad Luck And Get On With It.