I had a plan.
And that plan was to wrap words in an explosive package which I would place in a populated place. And when the package went off, it would shower the world in enlightening glyphs. It was to be my swansong, my gift to the world. A bolus of sweet, sweet language to be swallowed by a culture hungry for the sardonic thoughts of a man who's mind was full of maddening comprehension.
But, unfortunately, that all went tits-up when my laptop died.
So, as a consolation to my weeping soul, I'm moving onto plan 'B'. Which is to gather up any fragments I can find and randomly throw them at whoever stops by. Less of a swansong... more of a chicken-blart, but we do what we can.
Welcome to my head. Sit down behind my frontal lobes and strap yourself in. Sorry about the camera shake.
Dee Ball.
