And I’m incapable of disputing they really have had these experiences, because I myself have been prone to them literally since the day I was born, (as has my younger brother to a slightly lesser degree), apparently, (according to a variety of psychiatrists and neurologists from my childhood onwards), as a result of what they variously decided was temporal lobe epilepsy, incipient psychotic schizophrenia, extreme bipolar syndrome - you name it.

The thing is, like I say, everybody else’s ‘mystic’ experiences have always seemed to be all gooey and fluffy and pleasant, whereas mine have always been bizarre, psychedelic, terrifying, nightmarish, monstrous, strange; and have involved endless strange episodes like finding myself standing OUTSIDE the biblically old-fashioned looking stone walls and slightly ajar medieval-looking WOODEN gates of Heaven while gazing across endless receding plains of the both both recent and long dead, all refusing to even contemplate entering the place; or suddenly finding myself in the queue to be judged by God, before finding myself just as suddenly cast down to my doom in Hell, only to find Jesus really did ‘Harrow’ the place during the three days he was dead, signifying his transformation of the nature of the place by changing the word ‘Hell’ to ‘Heal’; or, on still another occasion, being told by ‘Something’ to immediately start limping in the opposite direction if I didn’t want to be torn to pieces by the gathering crowd of the local population that was staring at me, after suddenly finding myself unexpectedly but briefly stranded on a ‘parallel world’, somewhat like a very expensively made version of this one, with humanoid life forms some thing ‘like’ us, but with golden metallic eyeballs with horizontal black stripe-like pupils, with short pulsing dark rays emitting themselves from somewhere behind the back of their eyeballs; o, yeah, and then of course there was that time I witnessed the annihilation of the entire universe, and became inconsolably grief stricken out of a belief I’d accidentally destroyed my own kids and any chance of them having a future, not to mention all those times Death came for me and slaughtered me on the spot, only to then restore me.

And these are just some of the weird experiences I’ve been prone to since a baby; and, no, I’m not joking, and no, I’ve never taken drugs - I’ve never needed to!

The thing is, though, I’ve always found the best way to keep my sanity, and survive being unduly influenced by the vast amounts of supposedly ‘Cosmic Mystical Teachings’ I’ve always been being bombarded with since my birth is to neither believe or disbelieve any of it, and treat it all as a bit of a joke.

If nothing else, it stops you being a pain in the rear, going round trying to convince other people to rise and follow you, or going round giving yourself pillocky mystical names.

Yours sincerely, Shabadaz Seer-Sucker