look at this guy just blown up in the middle of the day in the middle of a normal street - these murderous corporate war gamists don't give a shit about collateral damage:
on a connected note:
I had a lovely walk to work this morning where I started to really flesh out the series of events of a novel I'd started last year then put to one side entitled WAR WORLD (I've assigned a new label to such posts until I decide to make it its own blog) and this sorta insane everyday slaughterous shit is a major part of it.
So far, the novel involved the daily diary kept by the main protagonist, a white collar woman trying to make her way up the corporate ladder; probably a lawyer or someone in finance. She's feisty in the boardroom and will burn her enemies to retain her earned promotions. But then she comes face to face with WAR WORLD and nearly loses her life, taking her into an alternate reality she never suspected existed. This may be my most Robert Ludlum effort to date; I really need to write more novels that homage that great writer, and fittingly I've already spec'd out a list of events and characters who might populate this mad covert place and what their roles might be in the ensuing (double bluff blackmail lies and counter lies) narrative that (potentially) involves ALL OF US.
Really, truth is (a lot) stranger than fiction - even though my fiction is a little stranger than most.
