I'm guessing this is the instruction you received from your handlers this morning, telling you it's time to leave Mexico? ;-) Well done on the mammoth comment catch-up too!
[Sorry, have to split it over two posts.]
Rollover "Demons exist," said Lord Vileburn. He opened the drawer of his desk again and put the coin away, then selected a piece of bile-green chalk. Even in the well-lit office it seemed oddly luminous. "They aren't exactly sentient, or at least, how much intelligence they have is still a subject of fairly heated debate." He walked into the centre of the room and started to chalk markings on the floor. Ernest watched for several moments. "Surely it's easy to tell if something is intelligent?" he said. "We have no trouble differentiating between a dog and log, for example. And insects clearly have a reduced form of intelligence, perhaps one only shared amongst many individuals." "Think of a parrot," said Memnith. The symbols he chalked on the floor seemed tight and narrow, constrained somehow as though there wasn't enough space to hold them. "When it talks to you, is it intelligent, or is it just repeating noises that it's heard? If it squawks 'Doctor Squires smells like toast' is that an opinion it holds, or a mating cry?" He started drawing lines that divided the symbols into groups. "I remember the parrot," said Ernest. He grinned. "I also remember Doctor Squires getting very upset about it. Detention for six months, wasn't it?" "Three," said Memnith. "Worth it though." "I see your point," said Ernest. "I would not care to judge intelligence just on a few words or phrases though." "And how long would you care to interview a demon for?" "Hah." Ernest stared into the distance while Memnith put the chalk away and set several small, pewter statues next to symbols that defined or represented them. "But I don't understand why there's heated debate about this." "Demonologists come from two sources," said Memnith. "Mages and Priests," said Ernest. "It's the only place where the Lords Thaumaturgical and Theological share responsibility, I think." "There are two others, but that's a little arcane," said Memnith. "Perhaps we might save that for another time." "With pleasure," said Ernest. "So the debate is between the Mages and Priests?" "Loosely. Mages hold that a demon is abstract mathematics that has borrowed the semblance of life. It has no intention or intelligence, but it is drivenn, like all life, to reproduce. Priests maintain that a demon is a living being that has lost all emotion and relies only on mathematical instinct. The problem is that there is reasonable evidence of both Mages and Priests being able to transform partly or fully into demons." Lord Derby's eyes widened.
"Anyway." Memnith clasped his hands in front of him and the symbols on the floor appeared to roll-over where they were, somehow finding new space to exist in. Green light spilled from around them, and the pewter statues took on a sinister aspect. Memnith focused his will, and there was a feeling of distant power, as though some gigantic generator was operating on the other side of a thick wall. The air grew warmer and the hairs on Lord Derby's arms stood up. Memnith gently reached out with his will and coaxed the power inwards, bending it around the statues which became fixed-points in an invisible mandala and as the flow of power converged on itself, there was a blossoming like a kaleidoscope adopting a new formation. In the middle of the room the air moved aside leaving behind a fuzzy grey gap of nothingness. "Space," said Memnith, his breath coalescing in white clouds in front of him. "Into which we drop a little mathematics." The greyness twisted violently, and Lord Derby couldn't suppress a shudder. It was as though the nothingness had flinched from pain. It spindled outwards, stretching in all directions, stellating into arachnid legs. Huge eyes formed, pupils gyrating wildly, and insectile jaws, six of them, dropped into place one below each other, pulsing and contracting. A smell of rotten eggs filled the room, and the sound of beetle wings whirring against leaves drowned out all other noises. "A demon," whispered Memnith into Lord Derby's mind.
It took me a minute to notice how much time had passed since the crash. I woke up with a ‘My lord! I’ve got to make something of the dollars I’ve earned!’ They’d been sitting around doing nothing for my net worth; much akin to how little I’d contributed to the world during my now 2 month super spiritual stint. I emailed a friend whose job was to manage other peoples’s money properly. He gave me 3 options for the rolling of the over of all those dollars of mine. If he had a vested interest, this interest wasn’t clear to me.
I could leave those dollars to do nothing a bit longer with my old pals in the nice office. Or with whichever money manager was managing theirs. And only until they formally kicked me out. Money being the agent that would make the kicking-out ‘formal’ in this instance.
Or I could take those dollars & spend them all on things I wanted right then. There’d be some taxes to be paid for this option. But then again I’d have all those things I wanted.
I could also manage the dollars on my own. Read some books on the subject. Take seriously the advice only of authors who were disciplined in resisting clever pontification. A random qualifying element to some, perhaps, but I had killed the left side of my brain for this urgent task and thus had no patience for such behavior.
I could put some of these dollars behind the economy on good faith & patriotism. Loan some out to people who needed it to buy things they wanted right then. With consistent deposits, I could be a millionaire easy - the obvious goal, for some reason. Assuming everything were to both crash & come back stronger if not twice by the time I was ready to stop contributing to the world again.
‘Such an excitingly quintessential decision!,’ I thought, of the options. I thought the thought only, not 100% certain of the word’s meaning. I wrote my friend back a big thank you. Later on, I would become suspicious of anyone who managed other peoples’s money, reading between their lines to find that vested interest. All those books I’d taken seriously had made me leery of people who manage other peoples’s money, which speaks equally to my clay brain and to my already grown understand that everyone want things and right then.
All aside, I was set on a route. I’d put that good faith and patriotism into the best in class. Loan a portion of the dollars out to folks who needed it to buy things they needed right then; like publics pools & whatever it was that corporations needed. I literally could not find specific or general information on the latter, but as for the former; people needs pools to learn how most everybody loves water. I knew this unifying quality stronger than I know most things to this day - which is soft and impractical. But that 2 month super spiritual stint left a lesion of a gash in my forehead that has had a way about it. I sound stupid explaining it - so I mostly don’t - but, somehow, the pain of it points me toward believing in things that are good. So yes, I’d put my money behind corporate america and water both.
I was to be as ‘formally’ invested as my cash flow would allow. I was learned up, strapped in, and en route. I’d call up my local institution pronto and holler proud, ‘sign me up, brother, I’m ready to rock’. Most importantly, I was ready for the next crash. I’d gotten good at that part.
4 comments:
I'm guessing this is the instruction you received from your handlers this morning, telling you it's time to leave Mexico? ;-) Well done on the mammoth comment catch-up too!
[Sorry, have to split it over two posts.]
Rollover
"Demons exist," said Lord Vileburn. He opened the drawer of his desk again and put the coin away, then selected a piece of bile-green chalk. Even in the well-lit office it seemed oddly luminous. "They aren't exactly sentient, or at least, how much intelligence they have is still a subject of fairly heated debate." He walked into the centre of the room and started to chalk markings on the floor. Ernest watched for several moments.
"Surely it's easy to tell if something is intelligent?" he said. "We have no trouble differentiating between a dog and log, for example. And insects clearly have a reduced form of intelligence, perhaps one only shared amongst many individuals."
"Think of a parrot," said Memnith. The symbols he chalked on the floor seemed tight and narrow, constrained somehow as though there wasn't enough space to hold them. "When it talks to you, is it intelligent, or is it just repeating noises that it's heard? If it squawks 'Doctor Squires smells like toast' is that an opinion it holds, or a mating cry?" He started drawing lines that divided the symbols into groups.
"I remember the parrot," said Ernest. He grinned. "I also remember Doctor Squires getting very upset about it. Detention for six months, wasn't it?"
"Three," said Memnith. "Worth it though."
"I see your point," said Ernest. "I would not care to judge intelligence just on a few words or phrases though."
"And how long would you care to interview a demon for?"
"Hah." Ernest stared into the distance while Memnith put the chalk away and set several small, pewter statues next to symbols that defined or represented them. "But I don't understand why there's heated debate about this."
"Demonologists come from two sources," said Memnith.
"Mages and Priests," said Ernest. "It's the only place where the Lords Thaumaturgical and Theological share responsibility, I think."
"There are two others, but that's a little arcane," said Memnith. "Perhaps we might save that for another time."
"With pleasure," said Ernest. "So the debate is between the Mages and Priests?"
"Loosely. Mages hold that a demon is abstract mathematics that has borrowed the semblance of life. It has no intention or intelligence, but it is drivenn, like all life, to reproduce. Priests maintain that a demon is a living being that has lost all emotion and relies only on mathematical instinct. The problem is that there is reasonable evidence of both Mages and Priests being able to transform partly or fully into demons."
Lord Derby's eyes widened.
"Anyway." Memnith clasped his hands in front of him and the symbols on the floor appeared to roll-over where they were, somehow finding new space to exist in. Green light spilled from around them, and the pewter statues took on a sinister aspect. Memnith focused his will, and there was a feeling of distant power, as though some gigantic generator was operating on the other side of a thick wall. The air grew warmer and the hairs on Lord Derby's arms stood up. Memnith gently reached out with his will and coaxed the power inwards, bending it around the statues which became fixed-points in an invisible mandala and as the flow of power converged on itself, there was a blossoming like a kaleidoscope adopting a new formation. In the middle of the room the air moved aside leaving behind a fuzzy grey gap of nothingness.
"Space," said Memnith, his breath coalescing in white clouds in front of him. "Into which we drop a little mathematics."
The greyness twisted violently, and Lord Derby couldn't suppress a shudder. It was as though the nothingness had flinched from pain. It spindled outwards, stretching in all directions, stellating into arachnid legs. Huge eyes formed, pupils gyrating wildly, and insectile jaws, six of them, dropped into place one below each other, pulsing and contracting. A smell of rotten eggs filled the room, and the sound of beetle wings whirring against leaves drowned out all other noises.
"A demon," whispered Memnith into Lord Derby's mind.
It took me a minute to notice how much time had passed since the crash. I woke up with a ‘My lord! I’ve got to make something of the dollars I’ve earned!’ They’d been sitting around doing nothing for my net worth; much akin to how little I’d contributed to the world during my now 2 month super spiritual stint. I emailed a friend whose job was to manage other peoples’s money properly. He gave me 3 options for the rolling of the over of all those dollars of mine. If he had a vested interest, this interest wasn’t clear to me.
I could leave those dollars to do nothing a bit longer with my old pals in the nice office. Or with whichever money manager was managing theirs. And only until they formally kicked me out. Money being the agent that would make the kicking-out ‘formal’ in this instance.
Or I could take those dollars & spend them all on things I wanted right then. There’d be some taxes to be paid for this option. But then again I’d have all those things I wanted.
I could also manage the dollars on my own. Read some books on the subject. Take seriously the advice only of authors who were disciplined in resisting clever pontification. A random qualifying element to some, perhaps, but I had killed the left side of my brain for this urgent task and thus had no patience for such behavior.
I could put some of these dollars behind the economy on good faith & patriotism. Loan some out to people who needed it to buy things they wanted right then. With consistent deposits, I could be a millionaire easy - the obvious goal, for some reason. Assuming everything were to both crash & come back stronger if not twice by the time I was ready to stop contributing to the world again.
‘Such an excitingly quintessential decision!,’ I thought, of the options. I thought the thought only, not 100% certain of the word’s meaning. I wrote my friend back a big thank you. Later on, I would become suspicious of anyone who managed other peoples’s money, reading between their lines to find that vested interest. All those books I’d taken seriously had made me leery of people who manage other peoples’s money, which speaks equally to my clay brain and to my already grown understand that everyone want things and right then.
All aside, I was set on a route. I’d put that good faith and patriotism into the best in class. Loan a portion of the dollars out to folks who needed it to buy things they needed right then; like publics pools & whatever it was that corporations needed. I literally could not find specific or general information on the latter, but as for the former; people needs pools to learn how most everybody loves water. I knew this unifying quality stronger than I know most things to this day - which is soft and impractical. But that 2 month super spiritual stint left a lesion of a gash in my forehead that has had a way about it. I sound stupid explaining it - so I mostly don’t - but, somehow, the pain of it points me toward believing in things that are good. So yes, I’d put my money behind corporate america and water both.
I was to be as ‘formally’ invested as my cash flow would allow. I was learned up, strapped in, and en route. I’d call up my local institution pronto and holler proud, ‘sign me up, brother, I’m ready to rock’. Most importantly, I was ready for the next crash. I’d gotten good at that part.
Greg - thanks, working on it still.
More fascinating Derby goodness. Your descriptions are top notch here, by the way. And the dialogue is pretty great too :)
Unknown - thanks for sharing this with us :)
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