Antibiotic

The first one has now disappeared down the hatch. It was the same hatch that subsequently scoffed a big plateful of Ravioli on toast and then proceeded to explain why Jimmy Carter was a much better president than people remember. We’ve had quips, sarcastic jibes, and lots of laughter.

Two days ago, I had a doctor hinting that I should consider the possibility that my Mum’s delirium had been coming along for a long time and was perhaps “something else” and I have a pretty good fucking idea what they were implying…

Excuse me while I swear but how fucking dare they and how many poor bastards fall for this shit because they lack the education to put up a fight? If I sometimes try to explain my world view and talk about how my politics are shaped by my surroundings, this is a perfect example. The privatisation of the GP service allows cowboys to buy up all the practices in an area and run them for a profit. And because it’s a depressed working class area, nobody ever complains.

I know I can’t let my guard down but, hell, it’s been a tough few days and I’ve been second guessing myself all the time. I’m going to now have a rest. Hopefully…

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Why Dunciad.com?

It’s a cool domain name and it was available. Yes, I know. Available. Crazy, isn’t it?

Really?

Yes. It also helps that it’s also my favourite satire written by Alexander Pope, one of the most metrically pure English poets who also knew his way around a crude insult or two. If you’ve not read it, you should give it a try.

So this is satire, right?

Can’t deny it. There will be some. But it’s also an experiment in writing and drawing, giving work away for free in order to see how many people are willing to support a writer doing his thing. It’s the weird stuff that I wouldn’t get published elsewhere in this word of diminishing demands and cookie-cutter tastes.