A post about… N.D.E.s

I was without internet for a little while at the tail end of last week and haven’t posted properly in a while. I do have some reading list posts in the works (McCarthy, Bulgakov and Faulkner – hell yeah) but just for now I wanted to mention what happened to me last night. So, without further ado…

The near-death experience, it’s just something of interest.

Now I’m not suggesting that I had a near-death experience, not for one second, as that would be rather melodramatic and simply untrue. However, it’s one of those things that tend to get mentioned when talking about religious experience/the existence of God. I’m feeling lazy after work this morning and a shoddy night’s sleep, so I will simply quote Wikipedia at you. The term near-death experience…

…refers to a broad range of personal experiences associated with impending death, encompassing multiple possible sensations including detachment from the body; feelings of levitation; extreme fear; total serenity, security, or warmth; the experience of absolute dissolution; and the presence of a light, which some people interpret as a deity.”

(I really am being lazy today, as I have also lifted this picture from the big W making experts out of all of us, but any excuse for some Bosch I say.)

So, anyway, none of that really applies to me. What happened is that some jumped up litte prick son-of-bitch barry boy drove his retarded little hatchback into the taxi I was in the back of last night. Just clean didn’t stop at a junction on a quiet road in my village (where you have a very clear view of what is coming – i.e. me, you stupid bastard) and plowed into the rear left wheel arch, leaving a mighty dent and the wheel itself at a 45° angle. I was in the rear left passenger seat. This sucked. Then the little arsehole sped off, followed quickly by another one. Not even a split-second of delay or indecision about stopping after ramming another car. Is it possible to get a near-injury experience? I was obviously a bit shook up after this occurence and couldn’t sleep for ages, but the thing that struck me the most (even at the time) was how little I was fazed by the fact we’d been hit. I didn’t really think “oh shit.” I just recognised that we’d been hit, noticed that the bloke was speeding away and then got angry. Is that a healthy reponse do we think? I’m not sure.

Finally, if you do happen to wander over to the online encyclopedia (written for you, by you) check out the bit on near-birth experience. Sounds pretty odd.


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