(no subject)
i was shaving my eyebrows in a deserted cabin in 1962 at Winnipeg Falls forty miles outside Toronto. My left foot was rotting away into luminescent shards of flesh. They twinkled at me from afar. I thought, "Oh fuck its happening all over again." Three hard knocks came at the door. It was Melody, the unforgiving good Christian girl from across the meadow. My first thought was, "She's finally pregnant again." Then, I smiled to myself, because I'd been impotent for 5 years now, since the Aliens stole my fire.
"There are eleven fragments of light on the waterways of dimensionality today. Just thought I'd let you know. Also, children are at the laboratory testing the cinnamon bombs on the squirrels. They really get a kick out of it."
"The children or the squirrels?"
"The squirrels. Can't get enough of that shit apparently. Also, the police called again, they want their universe back."
"Tell 'em to go to hell, I ain't got no universii!"
"Ok honey, love you!"
The door slams shut. What the fuck was that all about. Damn nonsense if you ask me. I turned on the record player to that Dukes of Earl song. An old favourite, they usually were these days, damn ghosts fucking with the frequencies. Reminded me of the good old days. Long walks off of short planks. Moonlit sunsets with the Aliens. Gallons and gallons of elderberry wine with Poppa Sasquatch and the shining green brigade. No more of that anymore. Now, all that was left was the wall, the children, and an occasional midnight rendezvous with Melody. We pretended it was secret even though we were the only ones involved. The night had to be just cold enough, so that our sweaty bodies were the only source of warmth. If we were lucky it would start snowing, and we would joke that were getting started early on a future experiment to make Canada more like Florida and Mexico more like.. well, I'm not sure. I've never been to Mexico.
BOOM! BOOM!
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR"
Who the fuck could that be. Not melody. Not the children, they only bothered me when one of the forest animals started mutating uncontrollably or when that godawful light machine needed oiling. Cautiously, I walked to the door. Unlocked the security latch composed of seven thousand toothpicks and two rubber bands (and lots of tape). The wooden barrier which separated my existence from that of the outside flew at my forehead and knocked me to the floor.
"IT'S MOTHERFUCKING MEXICO HOMBRE, LAY OFF THE HASH-WEED YOU'RE SOCIALIZING WITH THOSE HIGHER FREQUENCY LIGHT ELFS AGAIN, ALL IN YOUR HEAD.. I CAN JUST TELL, WE'LL ZAP YOU RIGHT BACK DOWN TO THE GUTTER IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL. TARPS! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF TARPS! WELL WE GOT DOZENS OF THEM. THEY'RE SITTING IN THE TRUCK. WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? WELL YOU CAN'T, YOU CAN'T EVEN COMPREHEND. YOU WERE SITTING ON THE CAN IN 1946 AND WE WERE ALREADY DESIGNING YOUR FUTURE MIND FOR OURSELVES BEFORE YOU, AND YOU COULD EVEN TAP A BEAT ON THE INSIDE OF YOUR PALM OUT OF NOTHING, NEVER! YOU WANT FREEDOM? TAKE THREE SHORT DIVES INTO THE SNOW ON THE DAWN OF AQUARIUS RISING, FOREVER, THEN TASTE THE TURKEY SLIME. MOTHERFUCKER. WE'RE DONE HERE. AND TELL YOUR CHILDREN TO REPLACE THE HYDROXIN TANKS WHEN THEY RAID OUR SUPPLY DEPOTS NEXT NOON, WE GOT BILLS TOO YOU KNOW."
The door slammed shut.
I lay on the floor for sixteen hours after that encounter. Right when you get to thinking you're the master of it all reality hits you with a long sharp jab out from infinity. It was like looking into the sun again. I briefly felt a pang of joy remembering my only one hundred percent good day, three summers ago when I had all my teeth and all my endorphins properly situated. Now what did I have, two dozen vials of pre-digested Alien goo and a box of chocolate coated retro-muffins. Nonsense. This called for some future sense, because it seemed the swords were always double sided these days. Not since the great truffle famine of 1954 did I require the use of the epic neo-primitivistic Future Sense Diamond.
THE FUTURE SENSE DIAMOND is an ancient soothsaying ritual found among the Flork people of Papua New Zealand. You take the diamond, which can be any round object routinely found in ordinary places, place it in the top secret purple velvet sack, and whack it against the snow in just such a manner as to create the psychedelic non-geodesic multidimensional vortexes of sand blasting light waves and spinning nebulas of trigonometry shrouded in furious angle clouds shouting rhymes and lies from the sister refractions of waterway mind melding plasma structures. Then at just the right moment when the intensity of the unintelligible reaches it's climax, you reach in, and describe how you feel. It could feel any way at all, there was almost no way to tell how to feel sometimes. Today it felt good. Warm, slightly damp, itchy around the edges. It felt like mistakes and signals unending. Then it got really cold and vanished.
Then it dawned on me,
"Wait a minute! This is real life we're talking about, I'm moving west and to the great beyond. Where the air is thicker and the brains are fresher. Nothing left to do but to say it loud and clear.
we are constellations lit up by light,
don't fear what you cannot fight
fall alone and gather your mind
the real stone has no weight
only time can make it right
And with those final words, Teleomitranik the great mathematician, father of nine, lover of lesbians and burner of logs by the fire stepped out of the void and reappeared among the peoples of the Earth with full conscience and commitment. Logs, dimensions, infinity, cylindrical steel mechanisms, etc.. the end. Constructive criticism greatly appreciated this is a rough draft btdubs
"There are eleven fragments of light on the waterways of dimensionality today. Just thought I'd let you know. Also, children are at the laboratory testing the cinnamon bombs on the squirrels. They really get a kick out of it."
"The children or the squirrels?"
"The squirrels. Can't get enough of that shit apparently. Also, the police called again, they want their universe back."
"Tell 'em to go to hell, I ain't got no universii!"
"Ok honey, love you!"
The door slams shut. What the fuck was that all about. Damn nonsense if you ask me. I turned on the record player to that Dukes of Earl song. An old favourite, they usually were these days, damn ghosts fucking with the frequencies. Reminded me of the good old days. Long walks off of short planks. Moonlit sunsets with the Aliens. Gallons and gallons of elderberry wine with Poppa Sasquatch and the shining green brigade. No more of that anymore. Now, all that was left was the wall, the children, and an occasional midnight rendezvous with Melody. We pretended it was secret even though we were the only ones involved. The night had to be just cold enough, so that our sweaty bodies were the only source of warmth. If we were lucky it would start snowing, and we would joke that were getting started early on a future experiment to make Canada more like Florida and Mexico more like.. well, I'm not sure. I've never been to Mexico.
BOOM! BOOM!
"OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR"
Who the fuck could that be. Not melody. Not the children, they only bothered me when one of the forest animals started mutating uncontrollably or when that godawful light machine needed oiling. Cautiously, I walked to the door. Unlocked the security latch composed of seven thousand toothpicks and two rubber bands (and lots of tape). The wooden barrier which separated my existence from that of the outside flew at my forehead and knocked me to the floor.
"IT'S MOTHERFUCKING MEXICO HOMBRE, LAY OFF THE HASH-WEED YOU'RE SOCIALIZING WITH THOSE HIGHER FREQUENCY LIGHT ELFS AGAIN, ALL IN YOUR HEAD.. I CAN JUST TELL, WE'LL ZAP YOU RIGHT BACK DOWN TO THE GUTTER IF YOU'RE NOT CAREFUL. TARPS! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF TARPS! WELL WE GOT DOZENS OF THEM. THEY'RE SITTING IN THE TRUCK. WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? WELL YOU CAN'T, YOU CAN'T EVEN COMPREHEND. YOU WERE SITTING ON THE CAN IN 1946 AND WE WERE ALREADY DESIGNING YOUR FUTURE MIND FOR OURSELVES BEFORE YOU, AND YOU COULD EVEN TAP A BEAT ON THE INSIDE OF YOUR PALM OUT OF NOTHING, NEVER! YOU WANT FREEDOM? TAKE THREE SHORT DIVES INTO THE SNOW ON THE DAWN OF AQUARIUS RISING, FOREVER, THEN TASTE THE TURKEY SLIME. MOTHERFUCKER. WE'RE DONE HERE. AND TELL YOUR CHILDREN TO REPLACE THE HYDROXIN TANKS WHEN THEY RAID OUR SUPPLY DEPOTS NEXT NOON, WE GOT BILLS TOO YOU KNOW."
The door slammed shut.
I lay on the floor for sixteen hours after that encounter. Right when you get to thinking you're the master of it all reality hits you with a long sharp jab out from infinity. It was like looking into the sun again. I briefly felt a pang of joy remembering my only one hundred percent good day, three summers ago when I had all my teeth and all my endorphins properly situated. Now what did I have, two dozen vials of pre-digested Alien goo and a box of chocolate coated retro-muffins. Nonsense. This called for some future sense, because it seemed the swords were always double sided these days. Not since the great truffle famine of 1954 did I require the use of the epic neo-primitivistic Future Sense Diamond.
THE FUTURE SENSE DIAMOND is an ancient soothsaying ritual found among the Flork people of Papua New Zealand. You take the diamond, which can be any round object routinely found in ordinary places, place it in the top secret purple velvet sack, and whack it against the snow in just such a manner as to create the psychedelic non-geodesic multidimensional vortexes of sand blasting light waves and spinning nebulas of trigonometry shrouded in furious angle clouds shouting rhymes and lies from the sister refractions of waterway mind melding plasma structures. Then at just the right moment when the intensity of the unintelligible reaches it's climax, you reach in, and describe how you feel. It could feel any way at all, there was almost no way to tell how to feel sometimes. Today it felt good. Warm, slightly damp, itchy around the edges. It felt like mistakes and signals unending. Then it got really cold and vanished.
Then it dawned on me,
"Wait a minute! This is real life we're talking about, I'm moving west and to the great beyond. Where the air is thicker and the brains are fresher. Nothing left to do but to say it loud and clear.
we are constellations lit up by light,
don't fear what you cannot fight
fall alone and gather your mind
the real stone has no weight
only time can make it right
And with those final words, Teleomitranik the great mathematician, father of nine, lover of lesbians and burner of logs by the fire stepped out of the void and reappeared among the peoples of the Earth with full conscience and commitment. Logs, dimensions, infinity, cylindrical steel mechanisms, etc.. the end. Constructive criticism greatly appreciated this is a rough draft btdubs