thats the thing about waging metaphysical war against impossible odds. either everyone figures you are kidding, or everyone thinks you are putting on a front. i guess the occasional earnest jerk-off thinks you are insane, but what the fuck is that about? are people insane in the 21st century? thats so lame & non-futuristic, i'm just going to have to assume its the case that the double-oughts herald the age of "nobody is insane anymore." thats a good plan. anyhow, yeah. even when you feel like maybe god is giving a couple of inches? how are you supposed to tell anybody about that? how do you explain that maybe you kicked a whole lot of dweller on the threshold ass? oh well i'll tell you about my dweller on the thresher? i.e. i am imagining putting you into a wood chipper. you fucking fuck. i am worse than you can imagine but not in predicable ways. i move in fucking mysterious ways, asshole! man i will fucking kill you. i have the dreams all the time. you confront me at the gate to the tomb with one half of the key, saying we need to work together. i shoot you, shoot all your friends, & then shoot all my friends. fuck, i shoot everybody.