Chapters (48)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Introduction
- Endland
- About Lisa
- Shame Of Shane
- Who would dream that truth was lies?
- Eve & Mary
- Chaikin/Twins
- James
- The Shell Garages History Of Mud
- Kelly
- Morton & Kermit
- Crash Family Robinson
- Wendy’s Daughter
- Void House
- Jonesey
- Killing Of Frank
- Arse on Earth
- The life, movies & short times of Natalie Gorgeous
- German Fokker
- Carmen by Bizet
- They get you most all gone when you always alone
- It is murky and opaque
- intentions seem good
- Cellar Story
- I thought I smelled something dirty
- Last of the First 11
- The Ant and The Grasshopper
- The Chapter
- Mission of Jobbin
- wanted to get a good look
- Taxi Driver
- Loose Promise
- The children of the rich
- The Waters Rising
- #Dibber
- Long Fainting/Try Saving Again
- BureauGrotesque
- Anger is Just Sadness Turned Inside Out
- Maxine
- For the Avoidance of Doubt
- now not moving
- A Note about Endland
- Acknowledgements
- Dear readers
- This book was made possible thanks to the support of:
- About the Author
Reviewing his best bits before the inevitable burn up demise #Dibber was filmed in the long time neglected gym of the space station, trying to do sit ups in Zero G, ending up flipping and flopping all over the capsule, laughing and laughing. For a moment, even with the low-res footage and the sound-sync issues, you could almost see why he was Celebutard material in the first place, his boyish grin and general knowledge genial humour, the ghost of his physique still speaking somehow through the muzzle of his flab. It was quite moving when the different doomed crew members went one by one into the command cabin or whatever to tell their last words before the re-entry that would fireball the fuck out of the ship and incinerate them all. The whole drinking-age population of Endland (sic) was watching pretty much. Gonad sang a song that his brother had taught him, Shirl, Shack and Shakey kissed and made up, Veronica Toothache dissed the bitches back home, Randy did some kind of whacked out Michael Jackson tribute that was more than a bit miss-judged and the ratings didn’t really endorse it, Abbi flashed her massive predictable cleavage, Raj made a speech about mental illness cos she said her dad was a mentally ill and she wanted proceeds and donations to a charity. Anyway. When it came to #Dibber he had in mind to do a kind of medley of his catchphrases, set to a melody he’d been working on using a acoustic guitar left behind in the galley by one of the former Russian crewmembers back in 80-whatever, but in the end he just sat there alone in the cabin with the guitar and stared at the camera, all quiet, saying nothing, hardly moving in the softly blinking lights. He wondered how long the techs or editors would give him there, with just this silence and his stillness, and if the socials would say it was poignant or just sad or pathetic or selfish or just way too deep or like weird or bitch please, whatever, shut up, doesn’t matter. Come what may. He held it as long as he could and later went back in his top bunk at the crew quarters, eyes tearing up.