Did we like it?
Whether “we” liked it or not isn’t important. It only matters if I liked it, as mine is the only opinion that matters in this godforsaken world. And if you’re begging me to tell you, are you down on your hands and knees? Then I hated it as it didn’t feature me, only a bunch of self-deluded berks.
What was good about it?
• I really enjoyed the fact that Channel 4 got the programme title wrong. Expert Jeremy Coid said that “egomania is the layman’s term for narcissistic personality disorder.” Although it seems to have taken poor Jeremy 40 years to reach this conclusion, when I could’ve told them that in exactly five minutes – four minutes 59 seconds of which would have been the pathetic researcher clambering on to my intellectual plane, a vantage point from where I daily spit down onto Stephen Hawking’s stupid head.
• Dr Sam Vaknin who is the world’s leading expert on NPD, but irony of ironies, suffers from all nine characteristics himself. Of course, he is a “self-aware narcissist”, which basically means that he’s allowed to claim to be “a superior sub-species” that “transcends humanity” making him one of “nature’s superman”, but to do so with a knowing smile on his face realising that everyone watching thinks him slightly mad when really he’s just there for me laugh at like a chubby court jester.
What was bad about it?
• Frank Tough – he may run the largest market in the country in Camden, and now is trying to open one up in Liverpool, but he only has three of the nine traits of an NPD sufferer making him small fry in the ego pond, and he also has a silly macho name. Capitalist societies need Frank in the same way cities need sewers, whereas I am the gleaming ivory skyscrapers dominating the cityscape with a million little bodies rushing about my floors like the blood in my arteries.
• David, a lily-livered Yank who is unable to share grief and joy with his friends and family. On September 11th 2001, he said he didn’t really care as he “didn’t live in New York.” But he let himself down by getting married. Ha! Ha! The only such time I’d ever considered getting married is when God Himself gets around to sending me down his most beautiful angel. And once we’re wed, He’ll go about showing me the ropes of how to run the cosmos once He decides to retire. I’ll correct all His faults, and the first thing to go will be Luton.
• Speaking of God, in the 60s someone called David Berg (or should it be spelled Bergh, or Burg or even Burgh? No one with that name could ever be so unique as to be God’s chosen one) set up a cult called the Children of God.
• The programme was narrated by Bernard Hill. I could do that job. Give me that job then I can star in Lord of the Rings and go onto global fame as an actor, or a pop star, or a tennis player like parricidal teenager Brian Blackwood imagined he was. He suffered from all nine NPD characteristics and ended up butchering his mother and father in an argument over his trip to New York. A trip he still took with his girlfriend the day after the killings.