For now, the true author of this journal must remain nameless, voiceless, and 28% more shrouded in mystery than any other shadowy figure from the murky London underworld of the late 1800s. He must also remain faceless, since medical science has not yet found a way to reverse the side-effects of what he simply calls "the process" (patented 1894, outlawed 1895, drug-dumped in Somalia 1996). We can only tell you that:
1.He's the son of one of the three leading criminal masterminds of the nineteenth century. Oh, you know. The one with the moustache. 2.He's the co-founder of the White Peacock Arms Company, the only weapons manufacturer which still takes pride in breeding giant scorpions for the Oriental market as well as producing landmines for regimes across the globe. He's also the only living CEO of the Company, in accordance with the principles of natural selection. 3.His reminiscences of his own century, and his thoughts on our "modern" age, have been transcribed to the aethernet in 2008 by Lawrence Miles.