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384 pages, Paperback
First published May 3, 2022

Sentience is a life sentence, my child. Welcome to the party.
What happened next is difficult to put into words. Think of a sea mist that’s entirely black. Now picture that black mist blooming inside you. Now consider how it would feel to change places with a shadow. Then visualise your heart circling a drain. Now imagine you’re a plant at the moment it’s pulled up by the roots. Following that, envision being a dawn in reverse and your lungs being erased atom by atom while your head is lowered into a pit of mud. Now conjure up an immense all-consuming silence. It is difficult to put into words, but you can see where this was going, and where it went.
Reader, I was dead.
At St Michael’s, the bishop stood at the pulpit beneath an ostentatious cross, carrying on melodramatically like he was a character in an Agatha Christie novel. It’s always the same with these guys. They never let you forget that Jesus is dead, that it was foul play, and that you’re the main suspect.
• The last pandemic had been bad enough; all that gruelling isolation and silly panic buying and overeating — the Fattening, they’d called it.
• The only good thing about the last pandemic had been the post-vaccine orgies and when those activists set fire to all the cruise ships.
End times are tough all over, right? The question is, how did we not see where this volatile and unhappy interplay of negative amplifiers was heading? Overpopulation, ecocide, unchecked capitalism — check! Unheeded warnings, perpetual growth, unstoppable consumerism — check! What I’m trying to say is, a triumph of the human spirit was bad for the environment. We objectified nature. Our backfires spread like wildfires. We were custodians of the earth and we physically abused our charge. Fishing the seas to extinction was as self-defeating as giving yourself a neck tattoo on the way to a job interview.