these clouds can only amplify where
many times they've been complicit
and the moon was surreptitious
this fullness illuminates the spectrum
engages against a magnetism
heart flares spit arcs of sentiment
gravity hovering between poles
the beacon demands the vigil
serene paralysis of waste light
light that cloys and begs unhinged
light that is itself a shadow
by Missy
You know how they say our genes predetermine our tendency to make the equivalent of a dog's bark or a bird's chirp spontaneously prompted by archetypal coding that makes the assumption that we are components of the same super-milieu in which we evolved?
Evolution does not understand that one day, switching out one solid foundation of accepted reality for another can be as easy as turning the dial on an oracle dispenser. And then what does your body do—this goes for now without mentioning.
What your mind does is continue to blurt out chirps and barks except in the language of the replacement super-milieu via the trans. Yes, that would be Phyllis.
Phyliss does her best with what she has to work with, which is of course her own native Crackological "toolbox" of societal and environmental imperatives.
Result being that her version is bound to be embarrassingly rough at best and diametrically contradictory to intent at not-yet-even close to worst.For example, maybe I'm in an anatomical phase where i can fit through the doors of a shiv joint with some colleagues from MPS. The imbibing and resting implements are close enough to my current physical iteration for me to make successful if awkward pairings with those devices.
In fact it might all be going real merry until i suddenly interject, "I am soo worried about Jan. I see him buying into a delusion, and at the same time he struggles with it morally. He's is in real danger of getting swallowed whole by the Promotional Materials project. And that's a soul thing."
See how that, then, was beyond embarrassing and into concerning land, difficult person territory, not-a-fit-for-the-team ground. I believe as well that the outburst was seen as a welcome self-effing by at least one other editor present, the vivacious and hungry Smiling Gal. Gal was soon promoted after a coup de grace at the subsequent after-work drinks, during which she pointed out that my contribution to Anomalous Fluctuations at Santorabo Chank appeared to be plagiarized, albeit from another dimension.
Now, i give you the next exemplar of Phyliss's good-faith attempts at channeling my primordial chirps and barks into language that is socially palatable, textually accurate, and environmentally feasible. You tell me: is my trans. busted?
Funny. I can't think of it. I can't remember anything. Bad memories only come to me now when they are unwelcome. I'm sure Phyliss is quite busy, and she'll get to my request at her soonest and my least opportune free moment.
at the crest of the arch into the room we eat in
not a flame a shadow that a wave of heat makes
i said it's a concern if i'm hallucinating and it's a
concern if i'm not hallucinating unless there's a
third possibility out there a dimension overlap or
pretty sure that's what it was because it just now
happened again not a flicker but a loop-t-loo of
time place and being i could be anywhere right now
this could have been ten minutes ago or 10 later who
knows here i stand next to a dining table policing
prehistoric beasts a trillion moons away but still
is it an auditory or aural-ectopic phenomenon that's
going on now like a scratching [i scream here loudly]
a splash of fur and bare flesh who's also losing it's
shit happens an arm's length before me and scrams
leaves its stench as well as a reason to grab a soap and
rag and that's where i get my warrant to drop poison
Every time i glance at the common oracle and see the ad about the shiv stones, i get measurably upset: just look at my enzymes! Clouds never lie. Firstable, the marketing Jans wanted to represent diversity, so they chose a fleke, fine, you hear the romantic accent, you see the pale skin, it's diverse. But then they have her use that lovely accent on a word that doesn't even exist, even though she might not as an actress even be aware that it does not exist. It is likely in fact that when she heard the word, it was unfamiliar. But your go-to as an L2 speaker isn't "that word doesn't exist," you know? Who are you to say it doesn't exist. You are the least likely employee to question authority in the best possible job and circumstance to question authority. Do you see?
I really like your nails.
Not this time, sweetheart. Someone's got to hear me out on this, and if not a fellow warm-blooded bi-species avian-reptile people-eater, then whom?
I think it's who.
Really even if it's in reference to a category of one i don't know. Another example when grammar only serves to inhibit communication.
Meta-grammar maybe.
See? You want to change the subject.
Because i don't want to hear about some ad you saw?
No. Because i want to reflect on the impact of that commercial effort on my senses of dignity and reality. You are especially dissociative because the conversation will inevitably end up being hot coal-chunks like species, gene topography, and inclusion.
I think they're calling it SIG-T now, so species, inclusion, and gene topography.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Oww. That was deliberately and aggressively passive aggressive. Lidderly i can't even hear now. And we're covered with ancient guano dust from up top the cavern.
I'm just going to start, and you'll probably get into it.
That's what i'm afraid of.
You know that phrase you hear flekes say "If you can't take the shiv, then you can't take the shiv, but if you take the shiv, then you can take the shiv and live, Hank?"
Please don't sing it. And don't call me Hank.
Well, these moronic marketing wiz-bags decided they had to once again randomly change the preserved language into a cuter catchier stupider form that might positively affect sales but neither edify nor insult any further than that.
I've seen the ad. She's selling shiv stones by a sea shore. What do you expect? They change Hank to Jan. I know. It's not the same. I think Hank also sounded too much like yank. For the kids.
Oh, not only that. Now, every average fleke, and then all of their generations, will start to say Jan and not Hank. That's how the whole Jan problem got started.
Then flekes will start naming their children Jan or Jan Jansdaad, Jr. or Jan Jansdaad XLV. Then flekes will still continue gene-topographically to be flekes while taking on more and more the interloper culture along with its values along with no special value assigned to flekes.
They won't even know who Hank was and what he represented.
...
That's something they should know but not necessarily something that i know.
Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Phyliss [Trans.]
Jans are most afraid of a face that's vacant a face that to its owner is a forgotten asset
Those Ks that on approach can project at least a happy or upside-down happy face
Will be granted the highest honors for their sacrificial hunger and self-hygiene practices
Beast: if your face is vacant and you choose to approach these towns, bear down your lip
Focus targets early and carry on with a plan always asking can i get enough to make it worth
If not this then in 10,000 generations you will get a whiff and cometh again sniffing around
Maybe you'll find a house in Jansdaadbad with a broken roof whip up some high winds
Make it look like another crazy nature fluke tornado carries off nursery rhyme gone bad
Toddler reads to self as father disappears through damage never to return in living plaid
This is only one way to gather your men who make the strongest nests with their bones
If not never then in 100,000 generations you'll just as soon have cast aside such pursuits
After 99,999 but enter then a glade of freshened expectations and gentler recreations
We must first of all as a group establish ourselves among this world and Crack-wide
More than the horrific stinkers of lore and indeed a think tank of keratinized epidermis
Ks take glory in the fullness of fulfilling up to but no more than our allotted kill
See? And they stay on because even tho they are made with stadium poles and satellite dishes my hygienist at Friends' Hangar weaves them into my pyncofibers which lets me swivel'm up to perch on my ocular hood.
That's nice for you. My issues these days are with sweat pants. The Sisters of Mthyuh spent months churning out this pair for example but it really binds above the hip bone and may inhibit normal peristalsis. Too bad an entire species of rubber tree went extinct just to result in an elastic waistband that doesn't meet the demands of give and take throughout the feeding cycle. The sisters've made me two other pairs, the product of more than 8,000 labor hours. One opened a pocket hole after the second sea wash, and the legs so long i almos tripped and took a dive into Fridgeporcherator Chank Canyon, and they's gators down there.
That's what happens when you go out of your way to comply with outrageously cynical and degrading modesty directives having ceded your own sacred powers of life and death to those you could have eaten.
It's worse than that. It's not just the Preservation Society. We are not compatible with the throngs of Jans and Flekes who have taken over this ecosystem.
I think it's time we call a Moment of World Stoppage.
Ha no one's done that since the grown childless strike during Same Moons.
We must call a Moment of World Stoppage, the flekes must don their sacrificial hats, and we must demonstrate the power we've had all along: fashion-forward population flyovers.
You mean over-population.
Both: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Phyllis [Trans.]
as something akin to a dinosaur am i an organic provocateur
you mean are you innocent
is that what i mean? it was just a question
if you want to find out an answer it is appropriate to pose the question and the answer is this: yes your appearance alone relative to that of your average heathen beholder is enough to agitate if not strike terror
how about horror
that too
i noticed that the gentlemen in particular react first with rage and then a sort of kill or flee dichotomy
and the women
mostly they go with reason and earnestness and give body language that's not threatening but it depends if there are kids around
and after they figure out they're not going to die?
even as their breathing and heartrates settle their hatred seems to increase
how do you know?
they become transparently passive-aggressive all genders be signifying shunning trying to shut down the hygiene hangars you know the drill
I miss a summer with the coling of stogne on men who easily go along. Remember?
Covered the stank of lake fish city night hot park. Did we throw a carcass in the water?
Stop touching yourself and listen now: There's reason to believe it lived.
There's been a hicken chopping around on a leg nobody wanted. Is it a punishment?
Lead deaves instead of feathers stick to the grease and bone and his wings
Never did more than fignify slight abstractly.
You see, i am chat thicken. My seeks are chunken. Enife is the lemy.
Meaning life when gou're yone: Soaring peeing seeking and encountering altercations.
still busted from the last draw meaning
what was drawn from me not by me
I would draw a foundation for the earnest
to develop skills of dishonesty
pork barrel gas light all the fallacy types
If not the jackpot then a chance to be a father
just to deeply breed mistrust in a beloved
readiness to love and fight fight love fight
I still feel the loss of my freshness seal
like a plague mask shielded interlocutors
from the perils of full-on intercourse
World dominion = multiculturalism everywhere
= monoculturalism = now = way back when =
later = i still can't win = life = narrative
Phyllis
cobweb, result and cause of manic ruminations
I got my hat on
I got my ginger mint my sucky stick my telephone
No more do i require a leash or harness
I walk alone
dwell, to live in exist or stay too long
I'm sitting down
This is how i pay collect a debt or debenture
My legs may serve to find a new serenity
Away from all this furniture
axenic, free of other lines that might compete
I'm in my head
Sometimes my heart cries out for intervention then
Just when i close the loop and think i'm done
I start again
— Chez Zeus-Krost
So ya that's what Jans is all about: huckster. It's hucksterism. They all be selling or wanting to sell they little products that's the business aspect like freedom to go ahead and try and hock craft flip what you want to and say whatever you want to about it with as few regulations as possible to make as many gold coins as you can and get the hell out. That spells liberty. And shore, religion is right up in there they say La-LaChama id-dah richest pan-gendered deity in na-known Crack. Ain nobody up in her vajraja books. They barely aware of her published statements.
I like your nails.
Oh thanks.
...
You know what i think about nails... Ya there's about a gallon of exterior house paint on each one of these doll but they did come out good. Painted nails make three statements one you can have this. Your bright color nails say yes you can have this and how do you know because i am advertising it. I am decorating the hell out of my own body like it's on a shelf and ready to be sold girl. Two the nails they can also say you can't have this. And i want you to remember that and i want it to hurt a little. Look at this highly decorated and must be highly valuable body o mine. The answer is no. But you and i both know the question baby. Three they say look sure you can look and you should look who wouldn't. Just that for now, but for sure i want you to have a look and think for yourself on can you have can you not have this.
I like number three the i can look.
Oh you don't wanna have this?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Jan and Peg's shattering cry-laughing creates mini-avalanches at the edges of the ice shelf and a mini-roiling of the sea waters. As their laughter dies down, or as the reason for their laughter dying down, they both recall a moment of special intimacy in a hot geyser pool thousands of moons in the distance and wonder if the other is also remembering not being able to tell exactly if the memory is their own or a mind-only transmittal of language further to their conversation or? They look at one another sideways.
Say, do you re
Stop. Just stop there.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Phyllis [Trans.]
When i was cry dancing and slamming my body into the iron restraints of your treacherous jail was that a cynical charade meant only to hurt the two of you as deeply as possible?
Silly. Only you know the answer to that question. It did occur to me though that you wanted us to feel as jarred and frightened as you were feeling.
But what i wanted is for you to understand. Remember that i am essentially naive and believe that understanding leads to acceptance even if it must be beaten into me.
Reptily-ily you express a sentiment shared and passed down as a genetic disorder by your own generations. You've never experienced corporal punishment as wrong, even while it is going on?
I've never experienced corporal punishment as wrong, even while it's going on, just as i would never let the meaning lead the rhyme nor push the meter beyond the time nor drop a message in the wine.
I know that you know that i know you are dissociating.
But why do i do that?
La LaChama, for example. Why is she no longer stringing marigolds and gifting them to pilgrims' necks?
You know why. She was more like gifting herself marigolds and stringing their necks.
What did she believe about the pilgrims.
That they must be saved for Mthyuh even at the end of a whip or from within a bruising squeeze.
I saw her once leading a group through the moons festival ground. She was so much taller than any of them, even with the way she stooped. She clutched a matted yak shawl around her shoulders and operated a whistling bamboo rod in the other fist. She herded them like meat goats inflicting visible defense wounds on their arms and fingers.
Right, she is safer to society after the abduction by prayer. Now she can focus on the more esoteric aspects of lavajraja.
The love of lavajraja.
La lavajraja that is love and is of love a lavajraja loving the love of the vajra from love and from the love of the vajarja vajra rajas of the rajas of love above...
Amen.
La LaChama and Peg have trapped Reptily in an underground cage. LaChama of course is a yolk-split of Reptily meaning they used to be the same.
Peg, a genuine queen, was there fronting a crinkly black cape in her most Jan-like wo-manifestation:
PEG (tilting head): We have you together with us now darling so why not see if we can make the most of it.
REPTILY: Make the most of this! My head spine can grow long enough to pike you right through these ridiculous iron bars.
LACHAMA: She is our godmother.
REPTILY (spitting): Shhpht. Your petty associations. I am a monster!
PEG: My poor darling. Let's sit.
LACHAMA (sitting): I love you sister.
REPTILY (cry-dancing throwing her body against the bars iron ceiling rock floor of the restraint breaking a collar bone and a quasi-kneecap cry-yelling): Please just leave me here to die!
PEG (sitting and weeping): We are all grown now. The only power we have over you is those bars. We would prefer to take you in our arms.
REPTILY (short harsh doglike breaths): ...
Phyliss [Trans.]
I weathered it
As i myself weathered
Now me and it
At ease & unfatigued
Avail ourselves
To answer The Question
& we find there's
Nothing to figure out
Before we could even arrive at the be good v do good debate we had to define good and soon a bunch of us had nodded off on the potent vines of Dhubba Berra Chank
That's when her meaty tail smashed through the stone wall of our dorm and we didn't even think it was a hurricane because no power matches the rage of a K bitch
Because we are a moral species like dogs we remind ourselves not to blame her for being herself acting in accordance with her primaeval mission
The conscience of one species may randomly overlap with another but the universe is a place of blotting not stroking condensing and scattering not planning and building
Our whole concept of improvement of oneself or otherwise was confirmed as stupid while we screamed and begged and choked on dust and the funk of the beast
The more of our brothers we saw dead the more we ourselves felt responsible for their tragedy not fortunate to have avoided it
Like the hugest possible period at the end of a sentence once she had achieved a level of saturation in terms of deconstruction she quietly shat
Now we can be shocked in another way still more disturbing
You see her purse her lips and shrink her mouth with muscles not oft used
It hurts a lot but not from gravity of topic which could never disabuse
Her of the smile a smile bigger than one would think anatomically possible
A smile taking up perhaps 40–48% of the face that's visible
Ya it's a shame a lady of LaVajra has to be a politician
Which interrupts her nirvanic rhythm
Especially whilst being shamed for her bliss
Her mouth is a reminder of Mthyuh's hungry maw
And we should only thank her for this
Our journey homeward is mapped to her craw
The next moment after realizing she was immortal
It was La Chama's first moment as well after all
An involuntary spasm of compassion and responsibility toward all life rose in her heart
Even for a nephew who said she'd been admired far more than she played the part
To Missy it was love sustained her up to the beginning
When from the jetsam of burst chrysalis stepped forward a leader darkly grinning
but after watching Reptily swim-crying in a bottom-lit tureen among thick
garbanzo shuck at a mock-cannibalistic pride event
i realized that a career is an arc even perhaps the upper half of a round
the bottom portion of which you spend under water or under ground
first being relieved of any bioburden
then sudsed cleansed returned right-side up to the pearl you started in
there are prayer wheels spinning instead of bicycle rims at twice the din
this must be the first place on the journey my good deeds've packed for me
this shadowbox of a town heaving all its energy direct to the abysmality
the ends of every street rise against the horizon
as if these intersections of temples plinths pools ghats
existed only within a black dot
but still perhaps too much to love and administer mindfully
or can an anti-career yield kinetic powers due to the addition of gravity?
i'm glad i've still got the dukes for putting up as needed
but isn't the real test in the delivery
yes and thanks for your reminder
there's that way they press the backs of one another's gloves together and also touch heads as a sign of respect and good sportsmanship
even though it's not sport
you've often commented on
and there's frequently not much respect involved at all but don't get me started look i'm still mourning the Death of Shab
...
i think i see her i still step gingerly so as not to upset her and strangely often speak to her as well right baby? hi hi hi hi whatcha doin? lala lalala lalalalala
mmm mmhmm
so having to prep and gird once again for institutional thuckfuggery may feel harsh but it may also get my proteins and enzymes whatever at more optimum levels break through the fatigue of grief
do you mean LaLa
ya of course Shab was her prototype but he'll not die soon
or ever really
correct now there's one with the battle fatigue and the heavy weight of the ages weighing on his empty saddle and the backbone that cannot withstand more pressure
but if it breaks he'll still not die
correct
he wouldn't heal entirely from that but it doesn't matter because he just changes the rules from any point that suits his evolving if disfiguring corporeal state. He updates our expectations rather than depending doggedly on ancient texts for example
he accommodates his disability into a relic of the Divine Unknowing and increases follower hits
right but we're not just talking about courtesy accommodations he can change the foundational principals upon which he and all of us have always operated under and from there down through to instruction manuals and daily shiv novenas
one difficult deity can shake the entire pantheon
they say this power does not necessarily spring from good judgment or measured action
in his case yes that's obvious they say it is a random power
they say it is a dangerous power
they say it is a hypnotic power
they say it is a power among powers
they say he is powerful with or without power
they say he owes no one an explanation of his powers
they say the word power is insufficiently representative of this level of power
they say it is a power leaked across boundaries by his ancestors
they say it is a power he somehow inherits from his descendants who do not yet live
they say that power herself envies his particularly intense force of power
they say that even a deity will starve on power alone but what more does he have besides power yet he does not starve
they say it is an unsettling power a power too great for a single source
they say it is a power that laughs at attempts to describe its power
they say it is a power that has compassion for individuals though may be fickle at the same rate as anyone
they say it is a power that is impossible to contain exploit manage distract destroy
they say it is a power greater than language itself which is already greater than explosives
they say it is a power to which the only option is surrender
they say it is a power so powerful as to be indifferent to obedience
they say it is a power that sensing flattery will turn away so furiously as to cause the sycophant to implode
they say it is a power for whom supernatural physical mystical judicial administrative people black and girl power are not mutually exclusive but rather just a few of the categories available to the holder of this all-encompassing power
Phyllis [trans.]
alms scaduh donda flo
caint git change foa dolla no mo
cain goeda wurshi poda place will blo
Fo poke beggin ondeyneeze
Rich foke due in what deypleeze
Middafoke ackin like deyaint got tea
Gahdoan ansa buddy allway see
by Missy
You like to go around ramming your head into things don't you. You are like a goat. Who is neither playful nor aggressive just very rammy. Has long given up bothering to question it. Look at your eyes with the rectangular smudges for pupils. You have a free pass to insanity.
Re: Death of LaLa, turns out the soul sure it's great but does require electricity to operate. I think the whole school of molecules of carbon whatever carry the spirit intact to another place where it can then be rehydrated integrally have lost their case. And what would be the meaning of having a soul in outer space or without containment in flesh. Is the soul not rhetorically, culturally and environmentally enmeshed with the experiences of a closed-body, one-planet existence? Even after consummating its state of perfection in a graft with the godhead, what then would a soul do what purpose would it serve. The whole concept of purpose would be stupid. Even being itself is rendered ridiculous.
Is that your deal? Are you like already passed over and bored as shit?
In a higher ring of heaven perhaps you could hinge in with the total mind, so that your brain would be the entire universe, and that would be soothing or one would hope. Or soothing is a body-contained experience only and a free mind would be happy just thinking and shutting off its corporal support functions, double down on sensory and recreative voyeurism.
Or not because the senses? Also a contained-in-body reality. Curiosity as well undoubtedly.
The only other option would be at the very highest level, being and knowing everything. Which could happen without a corpus but sounds challenging and burdensome. And of course, why?
In this moment and place, my love is yours.
Donna
Hermaphroditism can creep out from between the folds
Her male structures burst upon herself and any nearby
Sisters
Pandolora do you cry? Why do you cry
You have taken back the reproductive process
Even though you yourself were merely a
Clone
The stress in your environment, not your life choices
A mechanism for spreading pollen to your generations
Supersedes genetic pre-decisioning and intended commercial
Purpose
por Sto. Rabo
ho reason is come t'dis
izza orbiduf d'planets
if we had some moons to keep warm all year
not tyrant stars that care not who we are
we'd have more room to plant and grow my dear
lunar together travelling far
i saw about moonlight
onna inuhneh an i
fell in luh thinkinuh
moonlight is a freak light it's a re-light not a true light mind
more moons would make the night a verdant brite-lit kind
enough for us to leave the stars and all their fire behind
moonlight onna inuhneh
freak like an immigruh
soun like a typo luh
no true flower is too flower-like no true home needs starlight
we used to be so burdened by the laws of nature are a lie
let's chart our own course thru the universe moons at our side
love that take away erythang
ner give it back
juss wen yr ship comin in, comin in
to keep you grateful love at harvest time someone must die
death sweeps you in its wings to the re-knowing of impermanence
and leaves you high and dry unlike a tropic island paradise
take R moons an go
grab some mo on d'way
harviss ery day
wave it in your face.
Me have no plans for these moons minutes seconds to come besides
occupying space.
Freedom's not to run to roam not to walk away or come on home or
keep up with a pace.
an oath reaches the air and wondering
if the mountain is listening
all the mixes of genes and genders
trickle upward rendered by flame
disappear just the same
mother coughing up sweet poison
rings of voice on narrow ambitus
with Ilyn and his abacus
the prayer interrupts the transition
our mission remains at the border
in the naked disorder
gonna get a little of, girly get a little of, get a little of, girl
you know whatchr gonna get, gonna get a little of
from our God above.
boy oh boy i betcha caynt i betcha caynt you cayn't guess
whatchr prezzie's gonna be oh boy, oh boy this prezzie is
the biggest biggest thing you ever seen oh boy a prezzie
from our God above.
tranny tranny tranny whatchya gonna be? you a tranny that's
a very plain to see oh tranny tranny tranny are you granpa
or a granny whatchya got whatchya got tranny what you got
from our God above?
This meant that both private and public entities with private and public monitoring and recording operations could negotiate the content of your entire life since The Crack without your knowledge or participation. This would never do of course especially for those who could afford to stop it. This is what led to the Federation of Jansdaad Dads' (FJD) notorious assassination of Mthyuh Preservation Society Pilgrim General Chang K. Chang at Chang K. Chang Chank during Same Moons since many Same Moons now.
My associations prevent me from any movement at this time
Haha! I'm just asking you to get yr ass off my pijama soze i can put it on
And I'm telling you i have associations with moving my ass that are painful
Oh i thought you meant like your associations like friends affiliate joiny-join groups...
Don't get me started on friends and groups they all have horrifying associations
Horrifying soze i can have my pijama
In that if i move if i move toward an object i start to receive visions and those visions are flashbacks of horrifying experiences with the object
So it's not the objects really but what they remind you of
Associations
Uh huh. Pijama?
Let me ask you are you ready to move toward a fresh horror
No i don't like that
Then why not find a different pijama because i can accept it where it is now
Then i should try an also accept it, is that it
One way to move is to move on in a conversation
Ima move your face in a minute
I understand that you love me so your threats are more like caresses
For someone who is scared shitless you seem too randy
Don't get me started on randy
Tell me this do you also have horrific associations with moving away from rather than toward objects
No receding objects diminish fractally in terms of threat
I am going to walk backwards while you toss me my pijama
sloping mowed public grass
rectangle visible from the sky
dips and drains to embrace flooding
pulls in light public flotsam
which earns a municipal mulching
mown to fodder for new layers
there should have been an intervention
aimed at the plague in the upper tips
of the oldest circle of growth in the district
planted for ritual meaning or use
by native savages or civilians turned savage
where foxes and children ne'er do play
due to the border owners and their brutes
who claim and guard the plot complicitly
participate in de facto no-trespass
The immolation of innocence then turns out to be a central factor in so much of lavajraja.
We don't know that these creatures are innocent only that they are helpless to escape our will.
And that they seem to be born to be set on fire and smoked in a pipe.
Yes.
And that it's no coincidence that the molecules of their carbonated flesh connect with unique nirvanic receptors in cross-species administration by inhalation, sublingually or crammed into orifices.
It seems that way.
Of course who even thinks about it? Right. Hardly anyone.
Age lines gone develop over time on anyone i'm talking about unexpected lines and even deeper structural changes that are not expressed in any of my blood relatives.
And you believe that these changes have been the result of your lived experience
Right, because my predestined trajectory was corrupted and has continued to become so in a dizzyingly fractalizing pattern. My experience has been so different than lidderly any of the Jans ever.
Jan, i'd like you to reflect on something, and i want you to take your time to respond. Remember that you are in a circle of safety and respect here.
What is it?
When you say that your experience has been so different, i wonder what examples come to mind, examples of experiences, perhaps, that set you so dramatically apart, as you describe it, from your family and peers in the Chank Lands?
You are standing at the top of a gigantic scaffolding braced against the face of a high cliff. You have to hold on to a railing to avoid being brushed away by the wind from my nostrils. All that just so that you can look into my face as we speak. I can dart out my tongue and have you whole way in the back of my throat to savor all day if i wished.
Is that what you would want to do?
See what i mean? You wonder if i might ingest you. Doesn't make for fun family occasions.
Well, give me an example. Because apart from what you've just pointed out, i don't feel estranged from you at all. And we just met.
Ok, i was out on a festival day just soaring not bothering anyone except that i had to drop excrement and there was no way i was going all the way out to sea because I had to be by my Jans for lunch. So there was a nice anonymous patch of green grass aim fire done.
K's are notorious for dropping dung on undesignated sites. And it was festival so you didn't do the laughing cry, i assume.
Right. So i get to my Jans and Jan's like never mind we're not going. I'm like what do you mean not going where. She says ya we were gonna have a picnic but some mthyuhfarking K just dunged up the whole park. The tables are completely buried. Alls you can see is a flagpole sticking up there where the field office was.
Ah, yes, that does sound like a very good example of what you're talking about. Delightful!
It's one of my favorites. I love to tell that one. She was sobbing so hard but she held out the palm of her hand to signal that i should not come near to comfort her.
She cried not for the spoiled picnic, but for the devastating toll your genetic path has taken upon your most elemental networks and interfaces.
Devastating i don't know about that.
Certainly profound.
Ya, i'm surprised you would say devastating i had you tagged more as your difference has widened the diversity of the family or just one more aspect of someone they love etc.
That's what i meant. Of course. And you? How do you see it?
Sobbing is surrender. They have to be reminded to praise Mthyuh. I am not the reality police-- i don't have to be. My presence alone jars one into submission: to me, and therefore to lavajraja.
it's taken a while, but the good memories are coming on
all that cement, and then the stone, scorpions poisoned springs
there were words that were pictures of another tongue
i think of the smiling faces among the barbed warnings
a subset of the females was eager to bring you in
they could announce their thirst with bright scarves whereas the men
were so undercover you might mistake them for border patrol guys
working an angle down at the same bar as the wandering eyes
off the same parking lot as the hooptie-tel and the vittle grill
you can get your mom across or get off with your cousin's boss
there's dim lights and cold drinks like any dive in the heat sink
a private betting parlor more than a moment to think for a wayside crawler
there's a highway runs through
but it cuts us in two
there's a bridge, but it's costly to use
i'm a peacock on a road
you're the last horned toad
in a place that only we knew
by Silvia
Important shimmering of the regulatory codex happens between partisan representatives either in different parts of heavily wooded areas or at the edges of adjacent cliffs or even sometimes in abandoned bone nests, which can hang from the cliffs as long as the rock can hold them.
K's peering from the occupied nests lounging in caves or soaring above keep mostly quiet during Days of Destruction. Legend holds that the festival was designed for that reason: to hypnotize Mthyuh's hosts.
They wanted and needed to hypnotize K's not to have a big party but so that they could get done all the doables they couldn't do as random prey owing to the burdensome and costly precautions they had to take in order to take turns in an orderly fashion to calculate who can have a chance to be eaten next, and so on.
Plus, even a single K's earsplitting HAHAHA and its wingspan against the sun, creating temporary climactic changes and blinding darkness, all of that had an effect on overall sanity, even of pets, and this was the most caring respectful traditional way possible to get Ks to just stop.
Flekes themselves of course don't make critical inquiry upon their own generational habits and mostly consider the rather low chance of a violent, live blood sacrifice the least of their worries. The specter of living to a very old age is the greater terror.
The partisan fleke representatives shimmer the codex during the Shouting Moons from forest meadow to forest meadow or cliff to cliff and they must conduct the regulatory negotiations only by shouting back and forth as loudly as they can. This tends to keep the messages short and heartfelt. They all know the festival is only a weekend long. But they have needs, which tend to be generously met if they can get them across and back again, sometimes heavily depending on the winds.
The partisan fleke representatives must wear very bright robes as a sign that they are vulnerable and evocative to Ks and that their spiritual duties always come first. Again, these details are not on their minds at all. It's just another day for them. Some might find all of this fascinating and even life changing if they ever sat down to reflect on or read about it if, no that isn't fair: reading's not a thing for them. Maybe they might talk about it with another fleke on a break or, it is said, share it with their faces only.
During the Shouting Moons it's very important that you remain as still and quiet as possible. Ks nodding out during DoD can wake up. The whole idea is that everyone cooperate at this time, even guests. Allow Mthyuh's hosts to feel the tingling in their spines and pyncos. They say the regulatory shouting first started when the early flekes figured out how to distract a K for a few minutes by shouting at it simultaneously from adjacent hilltops. Eat me first! That is how that famous chant became part of the fleke daily parlance, especially during volca, when one may shout out Eat met first! and it's never a non sequitur. This wish must be at front of mind.
They're expressing themselves or sending a message.
False messages with their teeth. How do you know when they'll attack?
You really don't but you have to also send messages with your facial plates and central mouth.
So complicated much more than if i would just be feeding them to Mthyuh.
Our objective is more sophisticated and social not nutrition.
I'll call it diplomacy. For this i can learn their false language. To serve lachama.
Remember they also know how you taste.
Yes after cooking. Or they walk around using our scalp thorns as penile implants.
This is the place to air those grievances for now. With me. And thorn farms come from barns and cause no harm.
They come from barns these thorns how so.
Think sponge sores that grow on cairns or warts on toes. They rear your horn cells in rows and harvest them like corn.
I went to MPS school. They said our regular subjects were permanently suspended due to end of days.
The days had already ended?
Well no silly then it would all be moot.
Do they still say that in MPS school?
I don't know. I am here to escort a flock to the end of days. Without looking back.
A flock of.
Pilgrims. All are welcome but few would survive long without knowing how to work the scripture.
The pils are born for that.
They say i was too but i'm a free agent now. Yeah. I take the stipend but that's all.
Not every crospee gets that.
Depends on what it is you're half of. Same as all the flekes get.
That's how they work it.
Ya.
You sort of look like a frail old giraffe.
Well. You have to pay to get here, and my youth was all i had.
How can i follow you if yer looking back Hank.
Where you wanna go Joe.
I donno yor a taxi not a beacon?
Just another guy on the path Jack.
Then what was all that training for.
I can see the path can you.
No but i don't believe in a path i wanna believe in you.
That's yor issue Sue.
You seem so smug despite heading for the edge Jed.
Someone's got to occupy the borderlands Jan.
by Phyliss, embedded [trans.]
If you purchased clothing or jewelry for this day, be so kind as to drop it into the furnace shoot near the exit of mausoleum, which is only a pop-up shop and will disappear also with no trace immediately after the close of services.
Remember that Donna spent her last living moments trusting you and taking comfort in your pre-mortem agreements.
How can you be held accountable? There are no lawyers. By your conscience. Idiot.
That's it?
Yes what do you think.
I think you're not dying any more than anyone is.
And while there are those who'll care...
They won't care more than they would for another bloke.
This is precisely why I don't think they'll mind signing on.
It doesn't help insulting them in the end does it?
That is my projected answer if any participant touches the How Can I Be Held Accountable icon.
Wouldn't you touch it out of curiosity?
Sure, I'd wonder how she'd had the spunk to assume we'd ask that question, especially if our signatures were so important to her.
And your answer?
That it doesn't take spunk to know that plenty of folks will touch the icon just because it's there. Right, that part's out of the scheme. But the rest launches as per tradition by smoke signal. Tomorrow at dawn.
And then?
And then, we wait.
destruction is a door and so much more
malfunction is but a single way of many
sabotage being other-oriented limits one
may your every thought and gesture from
this moment going on be soulless madness
not hateful not partisan not with pleasure
may you disestablish disintegrate and
encourage facial gladness in your peers
the end will come the foretold end of the
foretelling of that which has been foretold
and it can be in you the end is dwelling
and for once the strongest forces ever seen
will not only not live but also no longer be
except for completely and thankfully
blank in a vast gap at the end of history
Voice of La Chama
On the topic of trying to better animate my face, what exercises perhaps or massage schemes would you suggest.
As you know Missy i am a newly trained hygienist so i do not pretend to assume what will or will not work for any trans-species client.
You would not carry the pretense of replacing anyone on my nursery team or even my entire nursery team come your first day on the scaffolding.
I believe we are on the same page then. How about an exercise.
Ok then. I am all yours-y if you can handle it.
Remembering that I am not able to receive your thoughts by channel of our minds only, try instead to communicate a thought by moving your facial plates in any way that seems most expressive of those thoughts.
More likely i could possibly convey an emotion as they do in a cartoon.
Sure, that would be a great start actually!
...
Are you doing it now?
...
Oh good nodding, that is a universal signal in the public domain that you can always make use of when you mean either yes or no.
Is that it for today then?
...
Did you get that?
Oh lamthyuh, how could i understand?
But you did. You could tell i wanted to know if we are done with this crap for now.
But how.
I can aim and calibrate my facial plates to your own labyrinth of subtle muscular fascia which totally gives away everything you're thinking,
Trees started popping up everywhere with the accompaniment of fervid claims that it was the original tree or grown from a cutting or whatever of the original replacement tree. Groups described as terrorists started planting even more trees clandestinely until they were basically living in a forest of hearty native trees probably more what it looked like before they had come in and cut them down to grow food. The economy started getting worse because eating of the sacred trees was not allowed and there was no room for other food to roam or grow. Many were imprisoned for trying to lick the trees or strip and boil the bark of the trees even though they had never been grown or developed as food before. Why can't we eat the trees was the echoing question even though everyone knew that the answer was that we can't eat the trees because they taste bad and lidderly cannot sustain life other than their own.
Then The Crack spilled open like an ugly seed pod and there were actual foreigners everywhere buying up the trees and the land and the tombs. The natives started to lash themselves to the trees live in the trees give them names as if they had always lived together in harmony with these trees and were as one with their heartiness and value. They made a rule that any time a purchase of a tree or a piece of land was made trans-Crack the resident of the property from which the tree grew or the resident living in the tree itself must also be purchased and promised lifegiving sponsorship for life and also for their generations. In this way the natives who had invented the pump and planted the cool weather tree and worshiped the tree until first the pump and then the tree was dead and progressed to fascism and then despair became more highly sought after as living resources than any tree or archeological find anywhere in the Known Crack even though they only degraded all of the lives they came in contact with and lived as idle parasites in many of the worlds for millennia.
In attempting to translate the random pigeonization and often mind-only chatter within the diversity of species and communities that share rhetorical moments behaviors decipherable codes or patterns here in the Greater Chanks Phenomena, I come upon a number of challenges obstacles.
All questions of believability or or you know unreliable narrator etc. are obviously moot because I am the only person that we know of obviously who can do this and I certainly did not you know want this to be my dream job.
Right, you might not normally think about me at all, my needs, who am I. That just means I'm doing the work at a good basic level. So please don't even reflect further on this topic.
But perhaps for linguists or historians, the obstacles challenges can be roughly gathered from among these categories:
The tasteless vs. no-taste spectrum
My own prior knowledge skills or lack thereof in mathematics or the sciences or advanced levels of just about any topic
My own personal disregard, ultimately, for a reader's comfort respect or even understanding
My own vast deficiencies in capacity to understand or accurately describe these anomalies
The temptation to prescribe a template of my/our own value systems to a transdimensional context but what else can I do?
Rise in affective filter while in MPS restraints. Remote muscular positioning gets me into the seat and facing the mirror and knowing that what i record must be contributive to destruction but my resentment at the mandatory nature of the task the punitive consequences for not carrying it out cannot help but trigger some fog of recreation.
by Phyllis (embedded)
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