‘I have the heart and the spleen of a hero, but the eyes of a bug-eyed marmot.’ So I began my speech, which was to prove a great success. Which was to prove a stupendous success, as it happens. There’s no point in false modesty, after all. Those were the days of my glory, I think it’s fair to say. That is all water under the bridge now however – times change, as they say. Nothing stays the same. The past was full of promise but the future contains only fear. In the early morning hours of the universe all things seemed possible – our horizons were broad indeed. Then came the solemn shadows of late afternoon, ominous portents of things yet to come. Then evening arrives at last and before it we know it the whole world has been plunged into inky impenetrable darkness, darkness from which there can be no escape…

This is a metaphorical darkness you understand – it is a darkness of the soul which I speak of here. A darkness of the mind, darkness of the heart, darkness of the spirit. Like two mighty cliffs facing each other, it all starts to close in on you – imperceptible at first but faster and faster as time goes on. They call it ‘The Crusher’ and I think you can appreciate the significance of that name. It’s a crusher of the soul you see, a crusher of the human spirit. It’s the modern age we live in. ‘Spare us from the jaws that crush,’ we pray fervently, but as usual our prayers fall on deaf ears. The gods aren’t listening; the gods never listen anymore. They couldn’t care less about our welfare when it comes down to it – they are amoral and sadistic. Some say that they are only highly advanced aliens from another dimension. They created human beings as a cruel experiment because they were bored.

I began my speech again and it was to be a great success. Everyone would stop to listen to me – my words would be both poetical and wise. My words would be allegorical and yet at the same time entirely practical. My words would be splendid and highly significant in terms of the greater scheme of things. I have the knees and elbows of a trilobite but the heart of a giant spiky spider crab. I am he who cries in vain in the wilderness, I am he who says one thing but always does another. I am the Deus Absconditus. We worship the flesh and we fear the flesh. From time immemorial we have feared the flesh, preferring instead the solid-state circuitry of the Hallowed Macrobot, which strides boldly through the land, its giant metal arms swinging mechanically from side to side. It towers over the trees and shrubs of the open savannah as it walks, the object of intense and unremitting veneration wherever it goes…

There was bad news on the Telepathic News Station last night. It’s bad news every night but last night it was the worst news of all – the type of news that the other stations never dare to talk about. The truth always has to be covered up you see – it has to be covered up no matter what the cost. It has to be covered up right to the bitter end and how very bitter that end is! You couldn’t imagine it. No one can imagine it. We betrayed our great and glorious protector and so – in truth – we deserve everything we get. We richly deserve it, for our crimes are terrible indeed. We laid waste to the multiverse, we despoiled the Sacred Territory of the Ancients and covered over the green and vibrant meadows with our unspeakably vile and toxic shopping malls. Such was always our way, of course. Such was always our way – we simply cannot seem to help ourselves…