Shiva

So, leader. Lead us. Where are you going to take us?


I’m feeling more than usually appalled.

Did you hear that? Our leader’s appalled.


Are you going to go messianic? Someone’s got to go messianic. Like the incredible Hulk. The incredible messiah. Is the incredible messiah green?

Will you have special powers? It’ll impress the postgraduates.


She always encouraged your Inian philosophy delusion. You’re I’m-going-to-learn-Sanskrit fantasies. A setting out your Indian philosophy stall thing.


The Hindu cherry on Livia’s cake: that’s you, Shiva. The Hindu icing. A Hindu flavour to my Gnosticism.


You’re the One, Shiva – clearly. You’re the keizat haderach. You’re Flash Gordon. You’ve come to save the universe. Every body, every man every woman every child.


You’re Muad’Dib. You’re Neo. You’re all the SF messiahs in one.


Died from complications of being Shiva.


Your pathos, Shiva. Your horror at poison. And lies. She was harvesting your disgust like adrenochrome.