Doc Chaos - "a comedy of terrors"

I'm in love. It's a great feeling. Do I have to be in love with anyone? Well, I must admit that I'm in love with myself. You know, it's ok to be in love with oneself.

Who am I? I am Doc Chaos, the offspring of everything. I have been born too many times to describe it. Birth is a blur, like life. It happens so quickly that birth is the most subversive action possible. Most creatures have no control over their birth. It's passive. 'I am born.' Being born is something that happens to you.

Once, I plopped out, uglier than rotting clothes on a tip. Someone said 'I love you'. How did they know? I knew nothing but need. Love, supposedly, came later. I puked and shat and it was all liquid. Later, I sucked on that teat and any knowledge I had was secret, even to myself.

Even later, I found something out. It impressed me a great deal, although I know that it's nothing special. I discovered that I did not 'plop out'; instead I was from my mother's womb untimely ripped, premature. A male doctor sliced my mother's belly and forcibly yanked me, blind and wild, into this world where nature was surrendering its marvellous territory to the invasion of technology.

I was unprepared for this ejaculation; for days they cocooned my sickly body inside a techno-mother, the opposite of moist and dark and squidgy, walled with plastic and steel, fed by chemicals, oxygen and electricity. No human touch felt I, but synthetic substances sustained my growth and secured for me a fingernail's grip on the cliff-edge of life while I summoned strength to haul my slight flesh-bag onto the ledge that was the first step on the staircase of my brilliant career.