— Yehuda Macbeth

“Electricity pinging around the brain, chemistry cascades through an organic machine learning; time needed to turn gambling into evolution across generations. Testing, testing, testing. It’s a blind watchmaker watchmaking intelligent solutions and – corollary accident – lo! It made a consciousness algorithm. Hello.”


“We continue to shape our personality all our life. If we knew ourselves perfectly, we should die.” — Albert Camus


Manifesting a manageable Scottish-Ashkenazi split personality from an early age – half Math-CompSci introvert with deconstructing OCD, half Literary-Fabian boozy Beat mashup of Brooklyn Jewish schmaltz and Stoic Hebridean mask of stone: “a bleeding heart painted in brutal colours” – it was always going to be a contradictory ensemble once the voodoo stones of adolescence had shaken out into adult autonomy. And so it turned out.


Wanderlust, inherited from hobo parents living through most of their dozen shoestring relocations across the Anglosphere underbelly, sublime and ridiculous contrasts of Derbyshire dales and marmalade Repton, neat colonial flower gardens raped by rape – Chomolia Zimbabwe – by Mosi-ao-Tunya, and the lumpen housing estates sprawling across limbo in new towns and endless inner cities. It’s an unusually mongrel bio.

What (up to 2000)?

Precocious serial entrepreneur in early teens having quit full-time school at 15, rejoining formal education at Cambridge University as an English undergrad while creating prototype online games. Most noteworthy pioneer game design would be Avalon* in late 1989, programming, engineering and operating as a start-up in London by 1990 (before the internet existed) via modem and hostplay venue to 1994, onto the brand new internet then relocated to the USA in 1995. 

* Avalon remains in continuous operation as of 2018 despite the incredible pace of evolving technology and world-changing communication.



Adult years of parallax living in the culture capital quintet of London, Paris, Cambridge, Berlin, New York. Glorious green birdsong summers and snow sledging winters passing cottager Raskolnikovs on Hampstead Heath, beautificial yellowtail and Jamba Juice in Santa Monica – the paradigm afterlifestyle, moorish gothic and golden brown in the fishing village Cascais and art-colour Sintra, Magnolia cheesecake, bars and books on the West Village stage, blooming garden squares and Haut-Medoc revelations in Kensington, World Cup anarchy and the single cask needlesharp existence in vorderhaus Prenzlauer-Berg.

What (2000s and 2010s)?

Focus shift from tech to literature, three books 2000 to 2005: a neophyte ‘write what you know’ stream-of-consciousness first novel “Splendid Isolation”, an unedited contemporary pale-fire homage to George Eliot “Gingerbread House” and a strange American-British childhood memoir “Myrtle Avenue” authentic but ultimately discordant. From 2006 the question “has long-form literary fiction a future?” begs an answer and three unfinished works stand out: magical realism in “The Willow Tree Embrace”, razor-raw diary drama “Last Of The Gang”, and fantasy genre fiction trilogy “Pure Angst”. Real estate biz evolved during this period, e.g. a privately-funded portfolio of vacation flats, mostly in East Berlin, passing 98% all-year occupancy by 2008 and sold on piece by piece to complete the capitalist wet dream by 2011.

And what of 2012 to 2018?

Let’s leave that period to 6 emojis: ⚔️❄️💤❤ 🚬💎


“The remnants of our shared metaphor – that wonderful shortcut to familiarity and universal humanity – have been appropriated by an evil modern day trinity: disingenuous propaganda, base advertising and ephemeral ‘art’. Prior to the immortal corporations taking command, advertising was owned by religion. Prior to democratic pluralism, propaganda was the tradition of the ancien regime. And art? Voluntary castration by post-modern apologists; easy fodder to be appropriated by entrenched capital. That’s the worst crime of all.”

The King of the Potato People

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There did they meet together, and solemnly they swore
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