You have just stumbled—no, been cosmically guided—into the online sanctum of UnheilbarGut: artist, visionary, chronically incurable, and yes, internationally whispered about in at least three alternate dimensions. Here, the laws of taste, physics, and reason occasionally take a coffee break—while hamsters reign supreme.
This is not just a website. This is an orbiting cultural satellite of greatness. A beacon to the aesthetically brave. A monument to the absurd, the tender, and the fuzzily magnificent. Why hamsters, you ask? Why not? The question betrays your inexperience with rodent-led renaissance.
Browse at your own risk. You may cry. You may laugh. You may spontaneously begin to recite poetry under your breath. And somewhere along the way, you may discover that the world was, in fact, missing something—and that something… was this.
Born under a comet in the year of our Lord 1978—a glorious end to a whacky decade of hippies, disco, and guitar gods—I emerged into this world destined to wreak gentle, hamster-powered havoc.
I'm Chris. Artist. Writer. Former Art Director. Chronic doodler. Curator of nonsense. Philosopher of fluff. Based in Düsseldorf, Germany, but once a proud resident of West Sacramento, California—where I learned that sunshine is not a metaphor, it’s a lifestyle.
My body took a turn at 39 when Multiple Sclerosis said "hello" like an uninvited dinner guest who never left. With it came fatigue (the grumpy big sister of tired), partial paralysis, and a new appreciation for slow days, fast ideas, and soft blankets.
Creativity didn’t leave—it became survival. From my nursing bed, I sculpt worlds in watercolour, build stories with digital ink, glue chaos into order, and occasionally compose music while yelling at my toaster for artistic input.
I move through the world in my frog-green wheelchair named Rüdiger (thank you, Twitter). He has a better turning radius than most people I know.
I'm obsessed with physics, literature, philosophy, and the unanswerable questions. And yet, somehow, I still find time to focus my entire creative output around… hamsters.
Yes. Hamsters. Tiny, majestic balls of cosmic whimsy.
My name is Unheilbargut—"incurably good"—a name that honors the madness of life, the unpredictability of art, and the joyful absurdity of it all.
You don’t need to understand me. You just need to feel something. And if you smile? Then I’ve already won.
There is only one ship—and one crew—that stands between everything we’ve ever known, loved, or dreamed of discovering… and the unraveling of reality itself. Not the end of life. Not the death of stars. But the undoing of the Big Bang. A collapse so total, not even time will survive it.
Chalice of Steel is not your everyday sci-fi novel. It’s a high-velocity collision between hard science and the most fragile corners of the human soul. And, yes—naturally—it has a hamster at its core.
This is a deep-space voyage. But also a philosophical freefall. A journey through ethics, emotion, humor, artificial intelligence, and the irrepressible chaos of being alive. Why? Because I can. And because someone had to.
Expect a story that spans 250 million years. A captain who’s married to his ship’s navigator—who happens to be an experimental, sentient AI. An ancient ghost from Earth’s past, lost across time not once, but twice, only to arrive exactly where he needs to be. An alien culture that lives by the mantra “No colors, no good.” A fragile thread stretched between religion and quantum physics, and a desperate, beautiful scramble to hold it all together.
This isn’t just space opera. It’s an AI coming-of-age story.
A myth, disassembled. A mind, breaking and healing. A machine, getting PTSD while the humans hold her together. And maybe—just maybe—a rogue AI is humanity’s last hope.
Read at your own risk. You might just feel things.
Chalice of Steel is scheduled for liftoff this summer! 🚀 Stay tuned for pre-order information and cover reveal updates as we approach launch day. Sign up for the newsletter to be the first to know when the countdown begins!
If you want to get in touch, send me a lovely message at: Chris(at)unheilbargut.de
This email address is solely used to send occasional newsletter updates if there's anything truly worth reporting (which honestly, isn’t that often). No spam. No nonsense. Promise.
