Al Philipson was born somewhere around 1995 or later in the fevered imagination of a nerdish geek and sometimes technical writer who wants to remain anonymous when he writes fiction (including his tax return). Being a private person, he was afraid that his adoring fans (all three of them) would mob him both publicly and privately once his books caught on.
Unlike his nerdy creator, Philipson suffers from none of the weaknesses of “ordinary” humans. His body puts Mr. Universe to shame. He can bench press a Kenworth, he’s more intelligent than Einstein, and knock-down-gorgeous women find him irresistible.
His second novel, Children of Destruction, has been recently published. He is currently writing his third and fourth novels and snaps viciously at anyone who dares interrupt him when he’s working.