This is a story about telling the truth...
I apologise for the lengthy 87,000 word preamble, but it has been in preparation for the revelation of some really shocking truths.
I'm actually still trying to psych myself up to tell some parts of the story, because I know that I'm going to be burning bridges big time, but I don't feel like they're places I'd want to go back to anyway. Those places need to be shut down with extreme prejudice. Those bridges need to be burnt.
I've effectively had an 'access all areas' back-stage pass to a lot of stuff that the public barely know exists. I've worked on gold bullion vault projects, nuclear submarine projects, cryptographic encryption projects and on the number one projects in the world's biggest banks. I've single handedly produced number one iPhone apps and been invited to speak about what I do at top academic institutions. These are my credentials.
So, I'm puffing myself up, like a blowfish. I'm like the scared cat, with its fur all stood on end and its back arched. I'm like the pompous twat, with his chest pushed out and his fake voice booming out, disturbing everybody's peace and quiet. Am I a narcissist? No, I'm just trying not to be eaten by predators.
Am I trying to make you like me? Do I think I'm likeable? Do I think I'm charming, charismatic? Do I think I'm special? Well, I have done the maths. I'm one of 7 billion people on planet earth and I'm 99.5% genetically identical to every single one of them. So I'm half a percent different from 7,000,000,000, which means I'm roughly the same as 35 million people, statistically speaking.
There are - for arguments sake - about 70 million people in the UK. I've used a higher number than the official figures for convenient maths, and because the government doesn't count the huge number of 'illegal' immigrants who live here. So I represent about half the population of the U.K: 35,000,000. I'm literally 1 in 2. There's a 50:50 chance you might meet another me, here in the UK.
So I'm really Mr Average. There you have it. I'm a straight down the middle regular Joe Bloggs. Anything I can do, you can do too. I'm not special. I'm not unique. I'm not different.
I've done a paper round, just like you. I've done washing up in a pub and a hotel, just like you. I've worked in a shop on a Saturday, just like you. I went to state comprehensive school, just like you. I went to 6th form college, just like you. I did an apprenticeship, just like you. I worked 9 to 5, just like you. I learned a skilled trade, just like you. I had a mortgage, just like you. I had a current account and a savings account, just like you. I used to mow the lawn on a Sunday, just like you. I used to spend a considerable proportion of my income on DIY and home improvements, just like you. I was making a little nest, ready to spawn some clones of myself, just like you.
Only, one day, I threw down my tools and said I'd had enough.
At first, I couldn't actually carry on working even though I wanted to. I had gotten myself a new job, and it was quite exciting, interesting and challenging. I was working with some cool people on a cool project. But for some reason I couldn't get out of bed. Maybe I was lazy? Maybe I was a spoiled brat? Maybe I was too posh and rich, and too arrogant and stuff to be bothered to go to work like everybody else?
Well, as I remember it, I just couldn't take it any more. I broke down. The machine had been pushed beyond its design tolerance, beyond its threshold, beyond its capabilities, beyond its rev limiter, and it had shaken itself to pieces. You should know that at this point, the machine was only powered by food, water, alcohol and caffeine... just like everybody else.
Was I a functional alcoholic? Well, we've explored this already, so I'm not going to go over it again, but let's just say this: I never drank alone. I always drank with colleagues and friends. I always had drinking buddies, and I never drank more than anybody else in my social sphere.
Alcohol is more than a social lubricant though. They say that money is the lubricant for capitalism, but I think that alcohol is the lubricant for capitalism. The more money, the more alcohol. It was limitless. As long as your work got done, nobody cared how pissed you were.
The thing about doing the same job for 19 years is that it gets pretty easy. It gets very monotonous and boring and paint-by-numbers. Even when you're building a banking system to process a quadrillion dollars, it looks like the same 1's and 0's in binary. All computer code looks the same, whether it's launching Tomahawk missiles or processing Credit Default Swaps.
We used to say "nobody dies if our code f**ks up" on the non-mission-critical projects. That's not strictly true though.
When a massive beast like a giant multinational corporation starts to die, rich people get pretty trigger happy. Yes, people are prepared to kill other people in order to protect their dollars. My own parents were prepared to kill me in order to protect their pot of gold, so I've seen it first hand.
The thing you don't realise, when you're watching all that 'free' TV is that you're a TV addict. If you didn't pay for something, then you are the product. Your mind is being sold to the highest bidder. Even when you do pay for something, you might still be being marketed to... you wanna be James Bond, right? Better go and buy that expensive watch you saw him wearing then.
But this conquest of your heart and mind is more subtle than just being sold a product. You are also being sold a lie. You are being told simplistic stories about good vs. evil. You are told stories about cowboy & indians, cops & robbers, earthlings & aliens, superheros & bad guys, black & white. You are being dumbed down. You are being put into a childish mindset.
Barely a few months after this photo was taken, my parents marched into my house, that I bought with my money that I earned, and called me a drug addict. They are total fucking idiots.
One of my earliest memories is waking up in a hospital bed at Oxford John Radcliffe Hospital. There were two scared looking drug addicts, going through withdrawal there looking at me. They had really dumb expressions on their faces. They had no idea what was going on in their drug addled lives. They were my parents, and they had hospitalised me because they're irresponsible cunts.
My parents have not got a clue how hard modern life is. They were gifted the deposit money to get a house, because they had failed to plan properly how to support their child. They needed their parents money, because they were too busy taking drugs and getting fucked up to act responsibly.
Do you know what I'd do if I got a girl pregnant? I'd get a fucking job.
My parents think they're special and different. They think they are entitled to not have to work hard. They think they're entitled to sit in judgement over the world, despite having achieved nothing other than to inflict misery on innocent human lives. Being the child of a pair of junkies is miserable work, I can tell you. It's hard work having to be the responsible one, because you are chaperoning a pair of losers who are too fucked up to put food on the table and a roof over the family's head.
When we come to talk about bail-outs in the coming months. We should remember that my parents had a free University education and they spent their parents money fucking about. They went travelling and had a lovely time swanning around spending other people's money. They sat around taking cocaine and doing jigsaws with their adult friends, rather than taking their kid on an outing. They took me to the pub and left me with alcoholics who worked on the US Air Force base, who told me all about nuclear war. Little boys don't really want to know about nuclear war. It kind of fucks them up.
Yes, I remember this guy Wayne, used to boast all the time about nuclear weapons destroying every living thing on the planet of the Earth. That's a lovely bedtime story for a 3 year old, isn't it? Well done mum & dad. Great parenting. Gold star. Cunts.
So, if I'm against the proliferation of nuclear armamants and I'm a vociferous supporter of nuclear disarmament... that's the reason. We should ban the bomb, because being bombed to shit by nuclear weapons is terrifying for your children. You shouldn't be sitting around taking drugs and getting drunk with your friends. If you give a shit about your kids you should be protesting about the proliferation of nukes.
Yes, my parent's were caught napping. They were asleep on the cunting job. While they were putting flowers in each others hair and taking heroin, magic mushrooms and LSD, snorting loads of cocaine and wandering round in a stoned fucked up daze, alcoholic stupor and generally dribbling like cross-eyed imbeciles, and occasionally spawning an unloved child, the world went to rack & ruin. You total cunts.
My parents never gave a shit about saving for a proper pension. Their parents had been prudent, and had put money into index-linked pensions that provided for a reasonable retirement. My parents plan was to put all their money into drugs and not give two fucks about the future, or even the present. Yes, the present was a pretty miserable time, because if there's one thing we know about drugs, it's that there's a comedown.
My parents like to boast that they were never really addicted. What absolute horse shit. If you have an expensive habit that's damaging to the entire family's health and wealth, to the point where my grandparents had to bail you the fuck out, and buy you a house, then you fucked up, you total addict fucking losers.
My mum still smokes, and has a major alcohol problem. She's self-medicating for anxiety issues. Yes... being a shit parent is supposed to make you anxious. That's called guilt. That thing you're trying to numb... that's your guilty conscience for being a shit parent.
If you don't adjust your lifestyle according to the needs of your dependents, then you're a fucking selfish cunt. If you can't even see what's going on in reality because you're too messed up by all the drink and drug abuse... you are a really sorry messed up individual.
My parents live in a kind of co-dependency, where they support each others warped worldview. The only person who's friends with them is a guy with learning difficulties, and even that is co-dependent. That poor guy is just lonely, and he likes to have a drink... my parents drink with him, because he makes them feel like they're superior. They don't like normal friends, because they remind them that they're alcoholic junkie shit parents who never adjusted their disgusting lifestyle for their kids.
My Dad's really horrible and abusive to my Mum, but she defends him, so it's hard to do anything. It's important to defend somebody's character, but don't defend the indefensible. Don't defend an abuser. Don't defend somebody who gets sent to the supermarket to buy food and comes back with drugs. Don't defend somebody who's supposed to put a roof over the family's heads but can't be bothered because they're too fucked up on drugs.
I'm supposed to support these cunts in their happy retirement, am I? Why?
This is the legacy. This is the lunacy of mortgaging your children in order to pay for your disgusting lifestyle. This is the smoking gun. This is the whodunnit for a generation that got screwed over. This is a pointed finger, that shows where the blame really lies.
So, I'm being disruptive. I'm laying the foundations. I'm laying out my stall. I'm setting out my case. I'm taking on the establishment. I'm taking on the status quo.
I live and work in glass palaces, but I'm going to throw stones, because these places need to be smashed down. People have been kept below glass ceilings for too long. People have been oppressed by a generation who have achieved nothing, for far too long. Widening the rich-poor gap and fucking over your grandchildren's future, through pollution and completely screwing the global economy is nothing to be proud of. You've got no authority and you've got no credentials.
I suggest you start giving away your hoarded wealth as fast as you can, if you want to help your family. Give it away, share, spread the wealth if you want to retain even a fraction of your standard of living.
Soon, it's not going to matter who's got the most. It's going to matter who gave the most, when you are put on trial.
Yes, the newest generations are going to put you on trial for crimes against humanity. You're all as guilty as each other, so the only way to judge people's character is based on their generosity. My parents are tight-fisted cunts.
You're economically enslaving your children. You are chaining them up. You're doing nothing, sitting on that couch watching brain-washing TV and reading rubbish newspapers. Get off your lazy arses you cunts (October 2013)