What does it mean to live in the world that Satan has created? What – in other words – are the implications of being part of the convoluted story that the Great Evil One himself is telling? None of the stories that are told by the Great Evil One have a happy ending, you know. Naturally they don’t. Of course they bloody don’t…

‘What does it mean?’ I ask myself. ‘What does it mean, what does it mean, what does it mean?’ A rhetorical question of course but a very good one nonetheless. A very good one all the same. What does it mean, what does it mean? Do you know that thing where you’re a kid at school and you’re sitting on your own and you’re laughing and laughing and laughing and the teacher gets fed up with you and says ‘Would you like to share that joke with the rest of the class little Timmy (or whatever your name is)?’ and you laugh even more and you tell him that he just wouldn’t understand. Not in a million years would he understand. Such is the way and such as the way and such is always the way. Amen and out, as they say. Amen and out. Was God an astronaut? Are aliens real? And suchlike questions.

I often joke about my ego and say that I’m not that bothered about it and that I can take it or leave it. I say that my ego is a lightweight. That’s the kind of thing that I generally say, or something like that, if it were to happen that someone would be actually interested in listening to me speak my piece, which it generally doesn’t. Which it generally doesn’t happen. But that’s not true really, obviously enough – my ego is a horrifically powerful demon from the depths of hell and it owns me completely. I hope I’m being clear enough here. I am its loathsome pathetic ridiculous puppet and even saying this is painting me in far too lenient a light. Even saying this is affording me far more dignity than I deserve. That’s the truth of the matter and I’m sure you’d appreciate that I don’t generally like to go into it in too much detail. That’s why I generally tend to make light of the matter and pass it off with a few jokes. A few well-chosen jokes.

What does it mean, I often ask? What does it mean? Only I never ask it, not really. I’m not interested in what anything means, if I were to be perfectly honest. I never question anything when it comes down to it. ‘Go-along Joe’ they call me (they call me that because of the fact that I’ll go along with just about anything). The ultimate bloody conformist, I am. Only that’s not really true either – it’s more in the line of what you might very wisely call ‘a disguise’. Disguise is always very necessary, wouldn’t you say? We all need disguises. How true that is. How are you going to survive in the world without one? If you didn’t have a disguise then before very long someone’s going to spot you for what you are! Awkward moment, right?

Have you forgotten that we’re in Satan’s World? It doesn’t do to forget that, my dear friends. It most certainly doesn’t do to forget that. By Jingo no. We’re all very familiar with the consequences there, I’d say. We’re all very familiar. With the terrible, terrible consequences of that particular slip of the memory. Absolutely we are, absolutely we are… Who isn’t familiar with that particular outcome, my friends – who isn’t familiar with that particular situation? We know it well and yet we’ll never speak of it…