I’m incredible. A thing of utterly sublime chaos, my mind brims with bullshit, inanity, and raretimes insights of clear vision, making me think I may be cursed with the gifts of the prophets. Clearly abounding in ego to overcome fundamental personality defects and insecurities, I live for the exaltation of my peers and more importantly the to-be peers of my grandchildren. In that vein I offer you this as the blood of my poorly beating heart, the ramblings of my weathered and aged child’s brain. Essays, maybe poems, sometimes pictures, who knows. Living is anarchy with no outlet of self-expression, and I seem to have settled on the easy curse of words, words, words, words, words, words, words. So here at least, at last, I give you these, my words.