I have written horrible things. ‘The Sweet Man’. ‘The Gate Race’. ‘Fireman’. Cruel, nasty scary things, but they were all fiction and labelled as such. You were not supposed to believe them outside your dark dreams.
There are things that have not yet been published because they were just too nasty. ‘The Cleaners’ has never been released. It is seriously horrible, it even makes me cringe. ‘The Death and Life of Harry’s Wife’ might one day appear in a toned down version. Again, they are all fiction. Labelled as fiction.
Yes, I have written horrible things but I have morals. I have never tried to blame the parents of deceased children for the death of their own child. I have made up stories to scare drones but have never – never – attempted to blame them for the deaths of children or relatives. Oh sure, some of my games have been cruel but there are limits. There are lines I do not cross.
The NHS has no such qualms. They will berate smoking parents over a SIDS death even though there is nothing at all to even hint at the slightest possibility of a link between smoking and SIDS. Oh, who needs research when it can be blamed on smokers? I would not even do that to an antismoker. Even though it has been proved that childhood exposure to smoke gives the child a 22% LOWER chance of lung cancer in later life. I have never used that, but I could, but I never will.
You have to tap a questionnaire to get the NHS hate-fest but it doesn’t get you spammed, and anyway there is far more truth in the comments than in the article.
There are those who think I am a nasty piece of work and by some definitions, maybe I am.
Next to the deifieid NHS, I am a fucking angel.
A slightly unstable and out of focus angel. With wonky wings and stained white robes, but still better than the red guys who run the NHS.
You want to find the beast who will mark you in your palm and your forehead? Its name is not 666, it is NHS.