Section A:



This is a genuine copy of Mr Noel Pooling’s journal on inhabiting planets. Due to the author’s untimely ascent to the status of Dead, copyright could not be obtained. Subsequently this book contains authorised and unauthorised sexism, ageism, lifism (hatred of life), wit, ideas, beliefs and sarcasm which do not abide by ‘The Rule of Man by Men’ to which all beings; human and sub-satisfactory, are now bound.

The Rule of Man by Men. 2032. (c.0-929), London: The Old Boys Fellowship.



By Mr. N. Pooling

My hatred started with my neighbours. I am not a nice man… and I am not a well man. I do not seek, yearn nor want to ever be a well or nice man. I am quite happy with myself and would thank others not to notice. This guide that I intend to complete in the coming months is an astounding edition to history, bordering on revolutionary, so brilliant is my work that society undoubtedly doesn’t deserve it. I know this because I have seen my fair share of bad ideas; people nurture them like inadequate children that sponge like leaches and still are allowed to live. Bad ideas are like vomit, everybody would be better off if it just stayed in. It is infectious, just like hatred. Like hatred, it starts with the neighbours, every neighbour has an idea and every neighbour is hated. But soon these ideas and this hatred spread to the street, then to the village, then to the city, finally rooting in society as an agreed norm that you must accept to be a part of society. Bad behaviour is responsible for bad ideas and behaviour is inexcusable because actions are the footprint of a soul. I knew a truly dreadful neighbour unfortunately named, later clothed and raised who once said to me, ‘How we behave in-between the events of our time is who we truly are. And in those moments some of us will find the capacity to rise above our environment, if only for a moment, to show us the astonishing altitude of our capabilities.’ Shortly after he let slip this assassination attempt on philosophy I decided he was a fool. It was that day that I stopped conversing with my neighbours. You see there is only so much time you can spend watching a chimpanzee before you realise that the entire structure of its being revolves around the basic premise that it should appear to be violating itself at all times, and once you realise that you lose respect for it, then you become bored.

However a Thursday some months later, on a planet not called Earth, I found myself wandering down what I can only describe as a street when I bumped into a non-humanoid being. Who like my neighbour also fancied himself as a philosopher and unlike the chimp still held my interest. He was in the way and so I was subjected to hearing his dribble. The being was pontificating on the oxymoronic nature of ‘individuals’ all the while emanating purple ooze onto the seashell cobbled road. It was at this moment, my body was overcome with a surging sense of elitism, not only was I better than this being but most humans were as well. The create stood or should I say swayed at no more than 3 feet tall, consisting mainly of a treacle like matter, not that formidable I thought to myself.

It was then that I realised there are worse beings in the universe than my neighbours and if I only had to deal with humans I was assured a certain level of moronic behaviour with little to no surprises. It was this security that led me to document, report and encourage the forced inhabitation of semi-intelligent planets by the human race. Indeed this goal is in the spirit of personal security but also with the hope of bringing renewed credibility to my race. The last acclaim doted upon Humans galatically was the annual ‘Marginal Existence Cup’ given to humans for being, ‘Not good but certainly not the worst life form’. This document will be available to any human bearing arms, as I suspect those not bearing arms will have ill conceived reasons for obtaining a copy of my masterpiece, such as levelling out tables for which Eva Braun’s ‘A Guide to happy marriage’ was so infamous for.

So with good intentions, a solid grounding and an unlimited scope for possibility I beckon you forth, into a word of adventure.

Mr. N.Pooling