Cyber-pilot

While I may not believe that a soul weights 7 grams, I know that a human life weight two and a half kilos. It's been drilled into me over many years. Twenty four and a half Newtons at the tip of my right index finger on the distal phalanges; keeping it perpendicular. A slow squeeze until my shoulder absorbs a perfectly bearable amount of recoil, into that pocket of fat below the clavicle. A scant third of a second later, a hole in a rubber membrane I was aiming at tells me that I succeeded in putting a hole into the silhouette I was aiming at, another life if it were to be demanded of me. Calm, collected, no feelings. Those come afterwards, o

As one molded by video games, my first home access to them was at the ripe old age of 6, I can attest to the damage done to my psyche thus: From the wanton evisceration of all the denizens of hell in DOOM: I get my love of chip-tunes and metal, from the metal tracks transposed into midi that is the soundtrack. That and the need as a computer engineer to take it and make it run on a potato as a test of character and prowess. From the gleeful slaughter of idyllic civilizations and the benevolent Lords in DUNGEON KEEPER: I get my fondness for deep British voice overs, commending me on the slaughter and destruction wrought on unsuspecting foes. A