vortices and antivortices swirling through dreamland
the traveller tries to discern a true path
a hidden light
Tart, lemon-coated children smile sidelong at you, powdered-sugar circles on some of their cheeks. The bubbling susurrus of their minds is disconcerting, and they laugh about your expression, tho not aloud. A couple of them have those awful interchangeable snout jobs, with various limp or wriggling replacements for their noses.

Startled passers-by crept into my sandwich, and who could fault them? I could. Get out!
Blurbling Gullyfloggin,
O, how i love you,
Ah, what a spanking you are
Eh, so cheesy and green are your toes
Uh, your garden of pies is admirable
Ih, good day to you


Oct. 23rd, 2003 02:44 am
Maren knelt before the woman, taking her wrinkled hands in hers. There was no reaction, just the same unfocused staring, mind trapped somewhere else.

Everyone at the school who was ready had already tried to locate her–the room had been left undisturbed to preserve any clues about the object of meditation. There wasn't much–she was facing a mostly featureless wall, nothing on her lap except her own folded hands. Everything obvious and many non-obvious foci had already been gone over many times–cracks in the wallboards, wood grain patterns, her hands, insects that might have been seen on the wall, a mouse, a button that might have fallen from her hands and rolled under the bed–nothing.

For five years she sat in the room during the day, tended by a triplet of caretakers. Each night, carried to bed.

What had everyone missed? What was the focus?
Egg!! Drop your soup!! Hahaha! You'll never take me alive coppers! This is your last chance! You're surrounded by crispy fried fats! Do your worst coppers! However, I feel it my duty as an egg and a gentlevillain to inform you that there is an MSG bomb under your blue-uniformed buttocks, and the timer's ticking. *Gasps* Haha! Run! Run coppers, as if your very buttocks depended on it, for, verily, they do!
tongue warmly salacious
with no thoughts of otherwhat
to disimbue the mutuality of senses
reacting provocatively to actions

Just for a time, but often there
in memory as the flame of a candle
in an emotional void.
I walk along a trail of light, feeling the wet growths around me in the darkness. Black naked footsteps silhouette against the phosphoresence. They know the path, and i don't worry about running into anything.

My feet know the path, but i don't. How many times have i walked it, and where does it lead to?


Some memory gone; assume result of hostile action. Body appears to have been functioning without consciousness for extended period of time; assume captured and given slave implant. Avoid trying to control body or alter routines. Consciousness restored; mechanism unknown. No recent surgery apparent. No assumptions.

Body status. Healthy. Nothing missing. No obvious injuries. Weight low. Hair uncut. Ate recently. Sex recently. Infrequent or minimal bathing. Naked. Muscles atrophied some. Reflexes atrophied.

So: machine operator in slave colony, possibly mining, possibly breeding, probably walking to assignment from colony. No others nearby–sparse operation, or catastrophic incident at colony. Slave implant still present but now subject to conscious override. Tracking serial number likely, possibly not monitored.

Now the scary part...mind status.

Memories...nothing immediate. Name... blank. Family... homeworld... assignment... organization... blank, wiped. Try to bypass simple wiping.

'Ex-lover'... stranger's face, no decorations, small dark body, female, right hand stirring food, left hand malformed and not being used, simple clothing, hair uncut.

'Fought with'... blank.

'Died'... died. Get away.

'Teacher'... same face. Get away.
Dear Nebu,

The toes.
The toes.
Wine-red and newborn morning flowers escaping

Dreamt fabric sewn with careful stitches to awaken a hidden form into being

Scolded pots and clattered dishes

Tin and copper water sounds

The sound of an open window
Then the demons offered me assistance, so i turned to cooking.
Then the sauce spoke to me, so i turned to meditation.
Then an inner voice scolded me, so i turned to sex.
Then a body shone at me, so i plowed the soil.
Then a seedling snapped at me, so i fashioned an urn.
Then the clay crept from me, so i read a tale.
Then words struggled with me, so i watched the ocean.
Then the tide disappeared, so i changed to a dog.
Then people threw stones at me, so i changed to a demon.
"We black bean marauders slipped out of the darkness of the bowl and surrounded the chips, so rich with their salt crystals in their warm basket, but ah god they were waiting, prepared, knowledgable of the ways of rice and cheese and able to turn it to their advantage. I was but a baby bean, and as a lone beanling i was the only survivor. I swore, swore that always i would remember that candle-lit night that took my clan from me. I was young, the hot chili oils of vengeance burning on my skin. For many seasons i hunted for that night, and for many seasons it eluded me. But i found it, found it. Yes."

Here, the wizened old bean grew quiet for a moment, then spoke again. "Looking on it, that poor pitiful night... I knew that it had suffered more than I. That I was a child to it. It sang me to sleep that night, tho I didn't recognize it at the time...
Dom melle noi yeh
Allam mei   Allam yeh
Dom ala gelinde
Olam yeh gallom
The glass shall be thirst and the thirst shall be glass.
la bean
shine sheen
nib clean
lo seen
mice dream
hine heen
gleam ring
bean seen
shine sheen
dripping slime entrailing mimes through darkened sparrow teeth in smoking fabrics made of thyme don't

"The entire universe can be described by a single, elegant equation.
Physicists are on-track for discovering the final pieces of the puzzle.
This equation they are seeking is a Theory of All the Universe, so i'll
call it 'TAU'. (Normally one would use Theory of Everything, or TOE,
but there's no convenient Greek letter 'toe'.)

The universe is composed of various real, distinct things,
such as matter and energy, which are interrelated.
To know the pieces and how they relate to each other is to
know (in principle) the whole. In practice, there is an
element of randomness to quantum mechanics, so the universe
is not really deterministic except in a statistical sense.

Essential to understanding the full nature of the universe is
to name and categorize the components, breaking things up into
a conceptual hierarchy such as "molecule", "atom", "quark",
"strong force", "weak force", "gravitation", etc.

There is nothing essentially mysterious about the universe,
other than the fact that we haven't gotten all of the pieces
in place yet.
There's a wren in the glen.
    There's a frog in the bog.
There's a horse on the course.
    There's a toad in the road.
There's a dog on the log.
    There's a spider on the glider.
There's a snake on the lake.
    There's a pig in the dig.
There's a squirrel on the girl.
    There's a bug on the jug.
There's a duck in the truck.
    There's a cow on the bow.
There's a sheep in the jeep.
    There's a raven in the haven.
There's a slug in the mug.
    There's a snail in the jail.
There's a cat on the flat.
    There's a grasshopper on the wood chopper.
There's a moth on the cloth.
    There's a monkey on the flunky.
There's a mosquito on the quesadilla.
    There's a lizard in the blizzard.
There's a rabbit in a habit.
    There's a mouse in the house.
There's a squid on the lid.

© 1993, Jodawi & LoRe
"Today, the male i've nicknamed 'Booboo' displayed various acts of aggression when the alpha male 'Glurk' was not nearby. This included various vocalizations and glances towards me. I theorize that Booboo has mistaken me for one of his species. So far there has been no explicit thumping of the chest, shaking of potted office trees, or throwing of his own feces. Despite evidence to the contrary, i remain convinced that these gentle giants, Homo Patheticus, truly do have minds and intelligence. I may have to take some brain samples for lab analysis to determine where the problem is."
Crow-black feathers grow
around the corn in layers,
shielding it from foes.


Mar. 1st, 2003 12:06 pm
Spiny mephits pricked their way through the crowd, searching for something. Their stench was more effective at clearing a path than their spines—including some unfortunates who had taken some hypersensory drugs. Airport security kept an eye on them but kenw from experience that the best way to avoid trouble was to stay politely out of the way. Jel did the same.
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