A love letter to misanthropy. A cocktail of sociopathy and vague spiritual ennui. A dumpster full of human meat. When civilization is washed away in an apocalypse of burning tar, one pill-popping misanthrope goes to war against the forces of good; putting the tyre iron to the horrors of morality, justice and the curse of "being human".
Writer, game developer and proto-Zen misanthropist. Currently living in Denmark, technically Australian. I'm trying to marry pulp thrills with non-committal nihilism and somehow give form to broader misgivings about the human condition. We never win, we just fail softly.