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Stalking amidst the tundra, clutching a sharpened screwdriver, cometh LostHellHound! And he gives a cruel scream:
"I'm going to bruise you until you shit molton lava, and launch you into deep space!"
And my real name...
Zang! Who is that, striding amidst the mountains! It is <Firstname> <Lastname>, hands clutching a sharpened screwdriver! He screams homicidally:
"I'm going to bludgeon you in such an unsafe manner, your screams will shatter lightbulbs world-wide!!!"
I do love my screwdrivers it seems...
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"Life is possible only with illusions. And so, the question for the science of mental health must become an absolutely new and revolutionary one, yet one that reflects the essence of the human condition: On what level of illusion does one live?"
-- Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death
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