Very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low-grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen-year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink, he would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy... the sort of general malaise that only the genius possess in the insane lament. My childhood was typical... summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent, I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds... pretty standard, really. At the age of twelve, I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen, a Zoastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking, I suggest you try it.
Thoughts about SETI and SETI@home
Right, Ok people you have to tell me these things alright. I've been frozen for 30 years ok, throw me a freakin bone here. I'm the boss, need the info. Ok, no problem. Here's my second plan. Back in the '60's I developed a weather changing machine, which was in essence a sophisticated heat beam which we called a "laser". Using these "lasers", we punch a hole in the protective layer around the world which we called the "ozone layer". Slowly but surly ultraviolet rays would pour in increasing the risk of skin cancer, that is unless the world pays us a hefty ransom.