At the time of writing I am seventeen years of age. In four days I shall be eighteen. When I am eighteen I will be old enough to sign my life away to the British armed forces. I will be old enough to fight, kill and die for whatever flimsy moral my country has chosen to hang its hat from. I won’t though. Instead, I shall take a career in literary fiction. Everything I write will be liberal rubbish. Every volume shall contain an argument against war, persecution, and the misinterpretatio...

Roger had a short life. He was mildly loved and he will be missed slightly. He died aged 33 in a car crash with his wife. She did not die, she is in a coma. They had no children. They liked each other enough to get married. Roger was an average man. He had never scored high grades at school, his personality wasn’t particularly interesting and he wore socks with sandals. When he died something remarkable was discovered. He was the messiah. This was discovered purely by accident, when two...

There I am. At the end of a lazy Sunday, my sister and I are sat perfectly contentedly watching the absurdly brilliant science-fiction film Serenity. We enjoy the film, although at it’s conclusion we both agree that the source material, a cancelled programme named Firefly, was better. We’re nerds, nothing wrong with that. She leaves my room to go to bed. I lie there for a few minutes before walking over to my laptop. It’s about two years old and takes a while to turn on. Ev...

A patch of glazed red hangs potently from you; Covered as it may be, it is there. Raw as the son. It means something, what He cannot discern; But in rawness He is versed. That alone could kill: beating heart, And mind, and soul reduced to naught but ash. But the cry of it is final, the scream eternal; Save but a laughing bag and a sagging ache. The sacred book, quite unholy, has seen it: Glinting pain amidst roar of time. But it knows not what to say, beyond the savoured: “Is there not...

This review is going to be shit. I know this for a fact and I felt I should share it with you. You want to know why this review is going to suck? Alright then. Fact: I don’t understand music. Tempo, pitch and all that other crazy stuff is as mythical to me as a sustained erection… I mean a unicorn. Or possibly something less phallic. Nevertheless, I am going to write a review of Green Day’s 21st Century Breakdown and you are going to read it. Maybe one of us can do the titl...

Joke: A man decides to kill himself because he is crap at everything. He takes a revolver, puts it to his head and pulls the trigger. He misses. He's a crap shot. Ha. Ha. Ha.

It is in moments of calm, when the body can rest and the mind is idle, that evil seeps into the world. For it is in these moments of tranquillity that the mind becomes restless, thought turns to plot, and needs turn to want of stimulation. For the future murder Robert Blackstith and Albert Johnson, the man whom he would kill in precisely two minutes and twenty six seconds from our present time, by the manner of unloading a .45 calibur bullet into the skull, tranquillity was plentiful. The ba...