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Disclaimer

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.
"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."
"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.
"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

I, she said, with a slightly dizzed air, am generally construed as being quite, quite mad. Insanity is no excuse in most states, but it's still always worth a try. If you live in a state which actually does take insanity as being a valid excuse, you don't need to read any further -- but I would like you to let me know where you are, because I think I might need to move there.

Since I've obviously gone completely off my rocker, all opinions expressed on this page or any of the sub-pages thereof are entirely mine. Any rantings, screamings, deluded wonderings and insane plots are solely the result of me having too much time on my hands. Do not attempt to hold responsible any of the people, cats, small frogs or etherial entities which live with me for the opinions, etc. expressed on this page. You will fail. Then I will come to your house, along with all the people, cats, etc. that share my living space, and we will visit with you in a lengthy and surreal manner, which will probably result in your wondering exactly what universe and time-frame you are living in.

Please note that I am only claiming the opinions and such on this page as my own. Many of the things I discuss are copyrighted to other people entirely, and I'm sure they would also be most thankful if you didn't appropriate their things. But that may just be me; you really ought to ask them yourself. I will generally say who owns what, so that base is covered.

This page is not: a shrine to anyone's Satanic masters, a breeding ground for the small, worm-like creatures that live inside your computer and cause harddisk crashes, a good way to learn how to knit, actually translated from Welsh by the tiny gnomes that dwell beneath the porch, any sort of advertising worth mentioning, likely to win any sort of award for construction, succinct, a good way to pick up chicks, organized in any human manner or capable of making julianne fries.

As a further disclaimer, if you are a member of the Wild Hunt, you should not view this page or any of the related pages on the third full moon of the new year. The background harmonics will be entirely wrong, and your head might implode, getting nasty sticky bits all over my graphics. Just a friendly warning.

Respect my copyrights, and I'll respect yours. The snark is clearly a boojum, and we're all mad here. And if you don't recognize the quote at the top of the page, go read some Lewis Carroll and come back when you're done.

Privacy Policy

"A number of pages on this site, notably the contact page and order forms, ask for personal information. It may be as little as an email address, or as much as your real name and mailing address. Since no one likes junk mail, and we're not absolute bastards, this information won't ever be shared, sold, or otherwise distributed to spammers or advertisers or anyone else without express permission -- and even with permission, we'd have to think of a good reason. All precautions to keep sensitive information secure have been taken, and we only ask for that kind of thing for practical reasons; it's hard to write back if you make a comment about the site, or to send you the CD you want to buy, if we can't get in touch."

— Webmonkey Chris