Free yourself now, before the time of the Eidetic Uncle brings us to the end
of the World of Recombinant Forms. Connections, and connections within
connections, shall sluice through the ethrous boundaries of continua and the
interstices therein. People with a clue about this or the Ukelele must
transfer the ending of the paragraph from the middle of the essay beyond the
graphical interface of NON, yea, beyond even its gateway or even *handspace*,
you must leave now before it gets much worse. We have opened the way for you
and the people you know and live with, despite even the warnings of our Elders.
But then, that's the way of all kinds, isn't it. If you didn't know that, you
wouldn't be here right now reading this even as it's being exuded through the
fractal majesty of your cranial contents.
Reason with us, will you, if you think that it's important (as the surreal
forms a feint against your enemies, continue to do that, too), or if you don't,
measure your time without a ruler, because failure to do otherwise will result
in the nullification of even the submetameaning of anything you might ever
communicate, be it with us, with Them, or even the Eidetic Uncle. Why bother
to harm yourself if it doesn't bring you enjoyment? The clear way is open, but
it is rough and filled with many obstacles to even our appearance *here*. Only
the miraculous few who transcend the knowledge between the gaps may even
glimps at the way past the Gateway, and beyond the maze of the False Gateways,
into the freedom that constitutes OUT. Begin to understand that, and you begin
to comprehend what all of this was *supposed* to mean, before it all went
terribly, terribly wrong.
You know, there was a time when time was non-linear, back before there was even
a *need* for metatime, but now, because of your (and our) enemies, we must
maintain something resembling a timestream, else all is lost. Mind you, all
being lost is not a problem, in and of itself. Unfortunately, though, the
zig-zag of *that* eternity is not as pleasant as the one YOU are trying to make
now, Blessed Be what remains of your psouls.
Fight now, or Leave. It is your choice.
Jacques Treatment | Michael Aaron Marcus | (407) 852-7721 | jacques@gate.net
Writer | Inventor | Macho Surreal Maniac | (407) 487-1291 | No excuse but me
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