-------- -- ----- A E R I E O B L I V I A N A .
singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora
<------- || OsoaWeek || Issues || Book 3 || ------->
(Cup OWis028, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999)
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[[01028CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 2 8 * * * February 2, 1995
"The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!"
by Frank Edward Nora
INSIDE THIS ISSUE!
* Holy crap! Good stuff this week!
* Reviews of the Time Warner logo, a David Lynch book, etc.
* Star Trek Voyager STRIKES OUT!
* Beth for Sale
* Vygoath Meter
* Warren G. Harding the Chimp
* Abba Zope
* A delightful card game--Whist!
* R.I.P. Crystal Pepsi
* Songs of the Week
* The Ferris Wheel of Death
* Deluge of Primacy
* An Introduction to Dashic
* Experwar, Lincoln, Lint, Opiate, and Senate
* I have to beat some sense into you, "elf".
* Beublin A. Richardson--Episode 2
* Severe Repair Almanac
* And a whole lot more!
* YOU HAD BETTER DOWNLOAD THIS FILE, MY FRIEND!
(Permission is granted to make complete, verbatim, digital ASCII copies of this copyrighted ezine for the purpose of free distribution. All other forms of reproduction require written permission from Frank Edward Nora.)
OsoaWeek is published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, and originates from New Jersey, USA. Copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora .
All contents by Frank Edward Nora unless otherwise noted.Phone: 1-800 OBLIVIANA
Mail: Osoa, P.O. Box 60, Iselin, NJ 08830-0060
Character count: 71466 / Line count: 1945
The Table of Contents is at the very end of this file.
For the mail order Catalog of Obliviana, send an e-mail request to email@example.com.
[[02028HR]] Hemisinister Review
TIME WARNER LOGO
Cool eye with spiral inside--kind of like an Egyptian hieroglyph. Seen on Time Warner cable trucks in New York City, and other places--I have it on a mug, always staring at me, always pushing me forward, to make Obliviana a company as powerful as Time Warner...
ESSENTIAL CLARITY INHALER
Okay, what we have here is something like a Vick's Inhaler, only there's new age aromatherapy smell inside. There are a lot of variations available--the one I have, clarity, does kind of clear my mind--not too helpful when writing the chaotic, messed-up ezine, OsoaWeek. Pretty cool. I've only seen it at an occult store at the Monmouth Mall in Eatontown, NJ. You could try contacting the company--Essential Aromatherapy, Boulder, CO 80302.
IMAGES--A BOOK BY DAVID LYNCH
I love this film and TV work of David Lynch. Blue Velvet, Eraserhead, Wild at Heart, and especially Twin Peaks Fire Walk With Me--are awesome films. Twin Peaks on TV, and even On The Air (voted worst TV show ever) were great. "Images" (Hyperion, 1994) is a book of Lynch's art and photography (including still from his film and TV work). His paintings are okay, but nothing to write home about. Some of the hyper-conceptual stuff verges on self-indulgence and silliness. The photos are also alright, but leave something to be desired. As it says on the jacket, this is an exploration of Lynch's private world--a world full of imperfection and excess. I don't know if I'm too happy with this side of Lynch--but it's a cool book nonetheless.
CELESTIAL SEASONINGS BENGAL SPICE HERB TEA
A rather wonderful herb tea, with nice tiger-stripe and tiger themed packaging, with references to Indian lavishness. A strong, healthy brew--but be sure to drink it with coffee--it has no caffeine!
JERGENS REFRESHING BODY SHAMPOO
There's this shower revolution going on (a tempest in a teapot, if you ask me) where there's a concentrated liquid soap and some sort of sponge or "loofah" (god knows what that is), and the idea is to soak the sponge thing with soap and wash yourself with the lather in the thing. One of these is by Jergens--"Refreshing Body Shampoo", they call it. I tried it for well over a week, and I have to say that the results are unsatisfactory. First of all, it takes several entire minutes for the lather to get worked up enough to wash yourself. And if you follow their directions, and put the soap in the little hole in the sponge, you can forget getting a reasonable amount of lather for quite a while. I guess after all this time using soap, people are just plain bored, but these "body shampoos" are yet another passing trend. The Jergens does have one cool aspect though--at the end of its ingredient list--"sucrose octaacetate". Awesome ingredient, dude.
A new concept in instant lottery tickets from New York State--far more complex and time-consuming than other instants. Basically, you scratch off a bunch of numbers from the "caller's card" area, and scratch off the corresponding numbers from four Bingo charts. Theoretically, you could win four times on a single card, with prizes ranging from $2 to $10,000. Out of the 20 or so my girlfriend has done, though, she only won once--and it was for $2. And at $2 a pop, that's a net loss of $38! Oh, what the heck--at least it's fun!
CMJ NEW MUSIC MONTHLY
Here's a magazine that's very hard to find on the newsstand, but which is really, really awesome dude. For $4.99 you get a cool new music mag, PLUS a CD chock full of the next wave of singles to hit the world. An unbelievable bargain, really. A local 7-11 carries it for some reason--that's how I first got it--but I've since found a weird underground music shop in Soho that has it. They had Portishead's "Sour Times" months and months ago. Cool, man! Getting the new music before everyone else! Probably your only chance of getting it is calling them at (800) 414-4CMJ.
STAR TREK VOYAGER * EPISODE FOUR
Strike three-YOU'RE OUT! After the rather good first episode, there have been three, count 'em THREE horrible episodes. This latest one had two hi-tech disfigured aliens stealing Neelix's lungs. This stupid, lame story is full of idiocy. This show is starting to suck real bad. Kes was supposed to be an innocent, Data or Madison (Splash) type personality--instead, at one year of age, she's the wisest, most mature and savvy person aboard the ship, dammit! And Neelix, the supposed "Comic relief", is far too serious and brooding. What the f*ck happened, folks? I don't know. But I think I'm giving up. It's weird--here in the NY area, they show Voyager on channel 9, and Deep Space Nine on channel 11--at the same time! I think I'll switch to DS9, fer sher.
[[03028HT]] Halfevil Times
***HALFEVIL TIMES CLASSIFIEDS***
I can't stand Beth anymore, so she's yours if the price is right. She's 19, blonde, and voluptuous--but she never shuts up. Write to Brenford Wallingford XXIII, 88 Vim and Vigor Court, Lancelot Palms, Idaho, 88678-3222. No reasonable offer will be refused! (Unreasonable offers probably won't be refused either).
For sale by owner. Measures both altameca and transiverse vygoath, in hi-gray, vayg-asfo, and belmit modes. Six channel, non-apocalyptic phaser. Ideal for home or office vygoath management. Legal is 24 states--check local statutes. $350, firm. Fax Very-Jerry the Armorer at (617) 555-2343, at exactly 4:56 am, any weekday. Serious offers only--if you screw with me, you're vygoath toast!
A time when men and women lived together in harmony, where the horse and carriage was the main form of transportation, where you could walk in the streets and feel safe, where you could leave your door unlocked at night, where everyone knew each other, where people read books and pamphlets, where pride and joy and wonderment reigned supreme. Asking $2 or B.O. Call Red at 555-0052 for more information.
*LOST & FOUND*
WARREN G. HARDING THE CHIMP
Lost at Citicorp Center around 3:30 pm on Xmas Eve. Reincarnation of former U.S. President in ape form--but retains few memories of his pathetic administration. Probably now hitching a ride to Redmond, Washington to meet his idol, Bill Gates. Limited speech ability identifies him from other chimps. If caught, start reading him "The Wind on the Willows"--this should lull him into a false sense of security--you can then tie and gag him and wait for me to get there. Call Emile at (212) 995-4221 as soon as you get him. $45,000 and a lifetime subscription to Omni Magazine offered as reward.
I seem to have lost that happy feeling I always used to have--and I want it back, goddammit. If you're the asswipe who stole it from me, give it back or--or--or I'll tell everyone to find you and beat the crap out of you and make you give it back! So yeah, all of you, find that guy and mess him up and give it back to me! You better do it--and don't expect a reward you turdbrains. Contact Linus Pancho Reed, 77 Deficient Road, Bulb, Delaware, 22832.
Two are still here, but they're not talking. What the hell could have happened I haven't a clue. All I know is I have six cows in desperate need of a good milking and no one here to do it. If found, keep your distance and use tranquilizer darts--that should do the trick. If they spot you, you'll have to withstand the sexual favors of six glorious young beauties--so make sure you're a good shot! Four golden rings offered as reward (those damn turtle doves stole one before they escaped). Beep me, Roberta, at (617) 555-9292 if you succeed, or even if you don't--I like to get beeped.
GEN X LOSER
Are you in your mid- to late-twenties, living at home with your parents, unemployed, despondent? Do you love Japanimation, The Brady Bunch, drinking coffee, and "Greatest Hits of the '80s"? Do you have no life, feel confused all the time, love infomercials, and like obscure films like "Eraserhead" and "You Killed Me First"? Are you too cool to do anything with your life? Do you have unbelievable phone bills from talking to your friends about cartoons and commercials from your youth in the '70s? If so, f*ck you--why are you reading the help wanteds? Go back to your miserable existence, you loser! LOSER! LOSER! LOSER!
Desperately seeking a chipmunk to fill the shoes of Ultra Wren, the amazing chipmunk superhero with the proportional strength and flight ability of a wren, who was paralyzed in his latest battle with Supremevil Owl. If you are a chipmunk with similar powers and the urge to fight crime in the forest, call Woodsy Force Headquarters in Chaos Time Forest and ask for team leader Possum Bolt, electrically-charged muskrat with the proportional strength and electrical ability of an electric possum.
Are you dumb? Do you not know the difference between a wall and a dog? If so, contact Sue Moonbag, Iroquois shaman supreme. Make big $$$! Help in the creation of an army of canine stone golems, help to destroy the white man who burn our crops, steal our land, and rape our women! Those with a clue need not apply.
What the hell is Abba?
I don't know--aren't they a band from some godawful foreign country?
I don't know. Ed Ape sent me another one of his f*ckhead, cryptic faxes, trying to drive me nuts. All it says is "Abba/Fernando".
Maybe some sort of code? You know he loves to put a disarm code in when he plants a neutron bomb in a major metropolitan area--just for the excitement that maybe you'll disarm it.
Yeah, yeah--but he wouldn't be so obvious about it. No--it must be something else...
See? You're playing right into his hands! It's probably nothing.
Sweden! That's it--they're a band from Sweden! Weasel--what music have you got from there?
Um--let's see--oh yeah--I got a single from Ace of Base called "She Wants a Baby" or something.
Yes, yes! Another clue--he may have intelligence on your CD collection--knowing we'd listen to it--to discover the clues...
Well, okay Zope, I'll put it on, but I don't know...
After 85 listenings of the song...
Hmm... I don't know. Are you getting anything yet? Any sort of clue or anything?
I don't think so. It's just--it's gotta just be more of Ed Ape's psychological warfare!
Yeah, well I'm starting to agree with you. And you know what? I was saving it, but I have a canister of Ebola with Ed Ape's name on it! C'mon, help me load it into a cruise missile. I'll show him there are other forms of warfare besides psychological!
[[05028CZ]] Classic Zope
(was nameless--title newly created)
TIN ALLEY RASCAL
Zope--I'd like to teach you a delightful card game--whist!
I'll teach you a game first.
TIN ALLEY RASCAL
Oh yes? What game might that be, my friend?
The game of "Meet Mr. Lead Pipe!"
ZOPE bashes TIN ALLEY RASCAL in the head with a lead pipe.
[[06028LA]] Lord of Obliviana
The OsoaWeek Weekend. February 4-5, 1995. I did a lot of work that weekend. Well, it wasn't even a week ago yet, but it seems like a long time ago. Worked on 27, 28, and 29. Frustrating--working full time makes it tough to write on these weekdays. It's f'ing Thursday now y'know? This one's a week late, see?
I got "Ancient Cedar Reserve" Incense at CD World (Menlo Park). Smells pretty good. Bought perhaps too many CD's. What's up? What am I going for?
Maybe this sort of honest introduction is too mundane. Just talking to ya, just rappin'. Maybe I have to put up some kind of facade, I don't know. Who the hell are you, anyway? Broadcasting into the vacuum. I wonder where these words will find themselves someday...
1995. Lots of disasters scheduled. A real shake down kinda year. Forget it. You gotta put up with it. I'm telling you.
Are we really heading toward a Digital Superworld--or will it be wrecked by a massive disaster? I mean, a meteor hitting Earth, whatever--are we really gonna get to the point where we have this unbelievable digital communication system? I think so--but now without difficulty.
I think we'll have to face some rather inconceivable realization within the next 5 to 10 years. At least about the failure/farce of science. But other stuff too.
What am I? Some kinda mysterious guy, eh? What am I driving at?
I want success. But it has to the best success for me. It's not a road we're on in the pre-Digital Superworld of today--it's a massive parking lot, too many choices, too much freedom, no definition. But for the guy headed in the right direction...
I'm talking about personal occult freedom. You know, freedom? Something lacking these days. I mean, you can know so much about anyplace without going there. Without a wild frontier, can there be freedom?
It is this vision! Then! With which we as railroad forth on, yeah, the promise of adventure of wonder! Unraveling the tight not-much-ness of today into daring heat. There you go. That's it in a nutshell.
Okay. So here's another way of, y'know, looking at it. See yourself in a decade or two, plugged in to the Digital Superworld and stuff, zapping and zipping allover. YOU'RE GONNA BE DROWNING IN A SEA OF HUMAN PERSONALITIES AND HUMAN WORKS. TOO MUCH HUMANITY! YOU NEED TO BE ALONE WITH THE UNKNOWN, ALONE WITH WILD CREATION, FACING THE PUZZLE BY YOURSELF THERE DUDE! See what I mean?
There burns a fire in all of us, now adapted all out of shape. Bash it--coax it--bring it back to life. Get back. We can explode forth into intrepid. Do it.
This issue is now at 35335--a ways to go, eh. What the hell did I write up there? I have to read it over--I remember I was in a weird mood when I wrote it. Let's see...
Now at 37357--making some progress...
I'm there, and I'll deal with all that stuff up there later. This baby is almost ready for launch! And hey, you know I gotta say this... GET ALL OBLIVIANA!
***R.I.P. Crystal Pepsi***
It's official--Crystal Pepsi is dead. Long live "Crystal--from the makers of Pepsi"!
Yes, in this rather bizarre turn of soft drink fortune, Crystal Pepsi's plug was pulled--and it was replaced by a very different drink with almost identical packaging. The new drink is just "Crystal" (would have been big in the mid-'80s New Age craze, eh?). It's touted as having a citrus taste, which it does have--but it's nothing like original CP. So why are they confusing consumers, making Crystal look like a new, improved version of Crystal Pepsi?
Ah, who knows. Such is life on the soft drink battlefield.
As I spellchecked last week's issue, the spellchecker choked on the word "Super Bowl" (which I misspelled as "superbowl". One of it's suggestions of alternates was "superb owl". You know, I'd never though of that before the computer figured it out!
***SONGS OF THE WEEK***
Duran Duran--"Last Chance on a Stairway" (from the album "Rio")
The Mighty Mighty Bosstones--"Kinder Words" (from the album "Question the Answers")
[[08028OL]] Obliviana Primal
FONOSTA #4 has your name on it! Or rather, it will if you e-mail us at firstname.lastname@example.org! That's right--you may not know what a Fonosta is now--but you sure will later on this year! Right now, there are only three registered Fonostas--just imagine--you could have a single-digit Fonosta number--one of only nine original people who'll ever have that! And all you have to do is send e-mail with the word "Fonosta", your name, where you live (USA: state or major city, Canada: province or major city, Foreign: Country or major city), and your e-mail address (which should already be in the header)! Do it now! You'll be happy you did!
[[09028NJ]] New Jersey
Rt. 22 West, Scotch Plains
My girlfriend Kerri and I were driving to Rt. 22 East when we saw a whole bunch of newsvans parked in front of the Bowcraft Amusement Park. We took the u-turn and went to investigate. Apparently, a child had fallen off the Ferris wheel--the Ferris wheel now known simply as "The Ferris Wheel of Death" (funny, since the kid didn't die).
We talked to a park employee, who said that the kid was shaking the seat back and forth--but then we talked to an eyewitness who said that the ride's operator was fooling around, jerking the wheel to sudden stops and starts. It was he, the witness said, who caused the accident.
When we watched the news that night (hoping we'd be on camera, but no luck) we discovered that the eyewitness was correct--the ride operator was to blame.
It's interesting--about a year earlier, I took Kerri to Bowcraft on our first date. We waited on line for the Ferris wheel, but it was taking so long, we went on the Tilt-a-Whirl instead--and I got deathly ill from it.
Okay, so maybe I haven't painted such a rosy picture of Bowcraft yet, but let me tell you--Bowcraft is one of the coolest places in NJ! There's a train which circles the whole place, a lot of life-size animal and character figurines, cool weird parking lots, and VIDEO GAMES, VIDEO GAMES, VIDEO GAMES!
In the main arcade, there are a bunch of newer games upstairs--but the best part is the basement--a sort of rec room full of cool classic videogames (many with 2 plays for one quarter). There's a really cool atmosphere down there.
And right next to Bowcraft is The Pet Shanty--a cool pet store which I haven't been to for a number of years, but which must still be pretty good.
So whether it's to gawk at the Ferris wheel of death (if it's still there) or to check out the cool landscape or fine collection of video games, take Rt. 22 to Bowcraft today!
[[10028FE]] Friction Enhancer
Friction Enhancer 11: "Deluge of Primacy"
Here's a cool game you're gonna love!
What you need is a wooden board and a lot of candles. Put the board on the table, and start dripping wax onto it--the idea is to build towers, walls, bridges, and other structures. The sort of wax the candle is made of has a major impact on game play--the candles I have work the best--but you should be able to find acceptable candles.
I hope to be able to sell this game at some point, but let me tell you, it's a wonderful, hypnotic pastime--especially good to play on a date with a love interest! In the dark, in the candlelight, heat and liquid wax, all that. Romantic, dude!
Stay with OsoaWeek for any further developments in the world of Deluge of Primacy!
***AN INTRODUCTION TO DASHIC***
*SOME BACKGROUND INFORMATION*
When I was an adolescent, I was fascinated by the occult. I read a lot of books on it, and tried to develop magical powers within myself. What I noticed was that a lot of magic involved the invocation of assistance from a variety of supernatural beings.
To me, this sort of practice seems highly hazardous, being that as a human being, you're very limited in terms of gaining direct information about the entity you're dealing with. Also, there's bound to be a quid pro quo in these sorts of dealings--which the occult creature can take from you, possibly, even though you aren't aware of the true nature of the pact.
So dealing with occult entities of any sort is out, as far as I'm concerned.
The area I focused on was the power which I had within me--that is, whatever psychic, magic, or whatever force I could personally muster. I managed to succeed in a few limited ways. I could do "suggestion", where I could psychically prod another person toward doing some minor action, such as turning around to look behind them, looking left or right, etc. In high school, for a time, I was able to do this with a great deal of success. But still--it was a basically useless power.
I guess the other area I had luck with related to the wind and the clouds. I would try and raise winds, which seemed to work on occasion, but which was hard to prove--even to myself. The one area I had considerable success with was dissipating clouds. I could choose one cloud out of hundreds in the sky, and make it dissolve and disappear while all the others remained. Again, a relatively pointless power, but thrilling to perform, nonetheless.
It's funny--after I'd been "destroying" clouds for a time, I read an account in a book about a man who could do exactly the same thing I was doing--it had a photo of him on a hill, showing the cloud he was working on, or something.
Now, in both the instance of invoking the aid of supernatural beings, and the use of personal power, there is some sort of invisible magical force being employed. That is, effects are being produced outside of the realm of physics; there is no logical explanation for my cloud-dissipating power.
It wasn't until November of 1986 that I began to understand a whole nother sort of magic--one which neither employed occult beings or personal magical power--but which produced remarkable results. In the more than eight years since then, I have developed what is currently known as Dashic.
The basic idea of Dashic is that through the proper use of mundane thoughts and actions, reality can be changed. By "mundane", I mean thoughts like the thoughts you think every day, and actions like the actions you take every day--no "magical force" whatsoever.
Dashic is something YOU can do--something pioneering and wild.
*WHAT IT IS AND WHAT IT ISN'T*
Believe me, I know that people start to get worried when they hear that something or someone is involved in the occult. Some people hear the word "occult" and block out any further discussion or information. So forget about them.
I guess the biggest misconception a lot of people have is that the occult is part and parcel of Satanism. This is absurd. Satanism DOES exist, but it's a tiny subset of the entire realm of the occult. Of course, one could argue that everyone involved in the occult is dealing with Satan, whether they know it or not--and that's a very hard argument to counter. But just because it's difficult to counter doesn't mean it has much merit. If I say that you're just an earthworm dreaming of being human, it would be very difficult to disprove--but that doesn't mean you're an earthworm.
I remember back in the '80s that all major bookstores had an "occult" section. But a few years into the "New Age" movement, the word "occult" was replaced by "New Age". But in these section, there are books on astrology, psi (telepathy, telekinesis, etc.), meditation, etc. None of these could really be considered hardcore supra-evil things--but they are all part of the occult.
Dashic IS an occult practice, but it's much closer to psi than it is to, say, witchcraft. Dashic is wholly compatible with most non-fundamentalist religions--just as telepathy, precognition, astrology, and the like are.
So don't react to the "occultness" of Dashic until you know what it involves. Dashic is not a religion or cult. It's just an awesome occult practice which can lead to massive levels of turbo-charged freedom. Stick with me--I know I'm having a hard time explaining it--but I'll get the information across eventually!
*THE FLAT EARTH*
I had a dream the other day. In it, I had a little square tray of sand, about a foot on each side. I put a cricket onto the sand, and watched as it wandered around. It travelled all over the sand, but never ventured beyond the edge of the tray, even though there was nothing physically barring it.
Eventually, I took some sort of drink, and poured a little onto the sand. The cricket got to it and began drinking--I guess it had been thirsty. It was funny--I realized that the only things the cricket would ever encounter on the sand were things I put there for it, even though it could easily have gotten away.
This dream relates directly to Dashic. WE are the crickets, and our world the tray of sand--we're in a small space, and we're kept here not by physical boundaries, but by some other force--something preventing us from crossing the boundary, from getting off our tray of sand--something which prevents us from even being aware that there IS a border to be crossed.
Of course, the tray of sand and cricket example is highly simplified--the true mechanics of our world are far more complex. But still, we're in the same situation--there's a heck of a lot more world than we know about--and there's something keeping away from it.
Now, one of my more venturesome theories is that people fell from the world as it was originally created and into a different place--a place where the gods (or God, if you prefer) had limited influence. The idea is that the gods created a partition, a safe area, in this wild realm, in which the order of Creation held sway. Outside this place, which I call "Corridor", exists a place--probably a lot of places--which are far away from the influence of Creation, far away from the influence of the gods, far away from anything known to either man OR god. These outer realms are collectively known as Obliviana--forgotten places. And in Dashic, we seek to discover and master these places.
The world according to Dashic is just about totally contradictory to the world according to science. But this disparity is not so "either/or" as it may seem--not in light of Backyard. Backyard (another idea of mine) holds that any number of alternate explanations of how the world works can coexist, and a person is in tune with one at a time. Remember--all Backyards are equally unprovable in the here and now.
For example, the essentially flat Earth of Dashic and the spherical Earth-in-Space of science are both unprovable in your current mundane circumstance. The scientific view can only be substantiated through extensive, deep levels of scientific observation. Just as the Dashic view can only be shown to be valid through extensive, deep levels of Dashic observations.
The thing is--science will let you get to the La Luna (the moon)--and Dashic will let you get to Obliviana--both places far outside Corridor. But the same person who goes to the La Luna could also go to Obliviana--an individual CAN travel from Backyard to Backyard--but it's kind of tricky.
The bottom line, however, is that you can travel to other worlds using means readily available to you. If this level of freedom and adventure appeals to you, read on!
So who am I? Who is this Frank Edward Nora, Lord of Obliviana? And how do I know all this?
I'm a 27-year-old Gen-X kind of guy from New Jersey. I've developed Dashic over the course of eight years, with extensive experimentation. As to why I got into all this, I'm not entirely sure--but if you stay with me, you'll see that all my ideas make sense, at least in a self-consistent way--and that Dashic works--at least in it's minor effects, with which I am quite familiar.
The ignition of Dashic was a little jaunt I took with my friend Bryan in November of 1986. The trip just happened on the spur of the moment. I'll go into it in detail later (I probably already have somewhere in OsoaWeek)--but what basically happened was we started wandering and doing strange things, and we wound up at a haunted music store, after which the people who worked there took us to a graveyard, to look at the tombstones of people who had dorms named after them at our school, Drew University.
Alright, well--while I'm being honest, I have to reveal something else--something which points to some kind of fate being involved with my discovery of Dashic--or perhaps--just a coincidence which CAUSED me to discover Dashic.
In any event, on my first day at Drew University, I was walking along, and I heard a fellow student talking about how they were interested in the secrets of the universe. I spoke up and said I was interested in that, too. We got to talking, and I told him I lived in (the dorm and room) Brown 209. He said that was interesting, because he lived in Tolley 209. Brown and Tolley are two dorms which are connected with a common lounge. And 209 is the numeric key to Dashic.
So yeah--thinking about it now--you could say that it was the coincidence that two students who were very bright and very interested in the unknown just happened to be in room 209 of these two connected dorms, and with this circumstance, Dashic was eventually revealed to us.
In fact--now that I'm thinking of it--we made a big deal out of the number 209--joking about starting "The 209 Club" and stuff like that. I analyzed the number and realized it had but two factors--11 and 19. And that first Dashic experience we had DID take place over a year after our initial meeting. Hmm... So it could have been our involvement and interest in the number 209 which eventually pushed us into Dashic. That, and the strong evidence that Drew University is brimming with supernatural power. (See an account of my occult wars there in OsoaWeek021).
Hmm... It's all kind of making sense now--yeah--I think it was our usage of the number 209 which propelled us into Dashic...
Now, Bryan and I lost contact after college, but I did locate him about six months ago--in Saline, Michigan. He told me that he still went zoning regularly ("zoning" being the former term for Dashic). But I'm the one who's been publishing (albeit in a very limited fashion) information on Dashic for many years. And here, now, my development and presentation of Dashic is growing stronger and clearer.
Huh. Things make a lot more sense now than when I began this section. Weird, huh? That I'd have such realization while talking directly to my audience? Eh? Eh?
*THE BASIC IDEA*
There are two major aspects to Dashic--Morc and 209. Morc--which is short for "MOtion Relative to Corridor"--is the "thrust", the propelling force. 209 is the directional system, which applies the Morc in a consistent direction.
Morc alone will cause Dashic to happen--but only when coupled with the stability of 209 does it reach its most incredible aspect--the potential of breaking through into Obliviana.
So there are both minor and major Dashic effects. Minor effects--with which I am familiar--are changes in situation, sometimes wild in nature. Major effects--breaking through into Obliviana--is something I have never achieved--but which I am fairly certain is possible.
In the eight years I have been studying and developing Dashic, I have gone through periods of intense activity and almost total non-involvement. For the past few years, I have done very little real experimentation--but there were periods of several years where I Dashed regularly (okay--terminology break--the use of the Dashic verbs "Dashing", "Dash", "Dashed", and the like is just beginning, right here, right now).
In any event, due to the nature of Dashic, the real challenge is not the actual Dashing itself, but BRINGING YOURSELF to do it. The reason it's difficult to Dash is that Corridor steers you away from doing it--an effect which must be faced directly in order to overcome it. I guess this aspect could be called "Pre-Dashic"--and it's an aspect I haven't explored much yet.
So--how do you Dash?
First of all, you want there to be a clear beginning and end to the Dash--as signified by the raising and lowering of your Storm. A Storm is a combination of one of eleven "Flips" and one of nineteen "Dires"--there are 209 in all. I have developed a number of methods for raising a Storm, but the best is the Storm Codex--a deck of cards I originally created back in 1991. While not available any more--I will soon by offering a new Storm Codex--either as a physical deck, or as digital files you can print out--something like that. You can check out OsoaWeek010 for a complete list of Pilferids (Flips and Dires) and Storms.
Anyway, after you raise your Storm, you start to generate Morc--and this is done by doing things which contradict Corridor. There is a set of Morc-generating activities called "Friction Enhancer" (eleven of which I've published in OsoaWeek). By doing Friction Enhancers, as well as through improvisation, Morc is generated and guided by the Storm.
As you generate more and more Morc, you will begin to notice changes in situation--you'll find yourself doing different things, meeting different people, going different places--than usual. The world will begin to open up to you. This is the Minor Dashic Effect, and it's something anyone can do.
Your Storm will grow, rage, and eventually subside, as you're inevitably drawn back to Corridor. When you get to the point where the Storm is subsiding, it's time to lower the Storm and let yourself drift back.
And you will always be drawn back to Corridor unless you reach the necessary Morc escape velocity--whereupon you will break through into Obliviana.
These are the basics--and if you're totally confused--don't sweat it. Dashic is not an easy thing to understand, but if you stay with me as I continue to detail Dashic in the months and years to come, I'm sure you'll start to get it.
Okay. I have to admit that I have no real idea what we'll find when we eventually make it to Obliviana. I know it will be a physical place, on the surface of the Earth--but as far as who and what is there--I don't know.
One interesting thing to note here is that UFO's--if they indeed exist--could be from somewhere in Obliviana, as opposed to somewhere in outer space. And it could be their distance from Corridor which makes proving their existence so impossible.
In any event, Obliviana is truly an unknown realm. It could be dangerous, but I have a feeling it won't be. My gut feeling is that it will make sense once we get there--but like I said, I really don't know.
One thing is for sure though--we will be bringing video cameras into Obliviana, and bringing back footage. And while there's a chance this won't work, I think it will--and the world will have to accept reality of Obliviana.
I have named my company "Obliviana Super Occult Amusement", and that's just what it is--a form of amusement. But there's always the specter of the breakthrough. I think it's pretty exciting--but to be truthful--kind of scary as well.
While Dashic is at the heart of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, it's still a relatively small part of Osoa. So if all this supernatural stuff isn't your cup of tea, don't worry--the Osoa has a whole lot of non-occult entertainment for ya.
But I truly believe that with the groundbreaking occult system of Dashic at its core, Obliviana Super Occult Amusement will stand apart from all the other electronic publishers in the Digital Superworld!
Description: With her massive gun and grenades, this tough, battle-hardened woman wreaks havoc as the sprints at supersonic speeds through each battle. A good leader, Experwar seeks some stability in her life.
Description: An evil, wisecracking scarecrow who loves to wrap people up in his chains and scare them to death--literally! A demented, sadistic creature, Lincoln gets drunk of death, destruction, and horror.
Description: A fantastically huge anthropomorphic bear, Lint is a virtually unstoppable battler, only hindered by his compassion and morality--they often get in the way in the middle of a vicious fight!
Description: A brash young anthropomorphic antelope bedecked in black jeans and black jeans jacket, with lots of silver jewelry, he alters reality and thinks he's the center of the universe. His inexperience--and his cockiness--is often his downfall, though!
Description: A mysterious woman, her face hidden within her red and orange spacesuit, Senate wields a bow with all manner of strange arrows. Like all astronauts, her heavy breathing and unwillingness to speak frighten and disturb those around her.
Feldrowa, your imaginary name, deep into your fantasy life, I have to beat some sense into you, "elf". Never wanted to go this far I know. I'm overreacting? Go to level twelve, retrieve the wand of power. See? See what I mean? Don't give me that--Bill up at the store just wants to f*ck you--don't kid yourself. Yeah, your friends are all just normal people--yeah--it's just a hobby to them--don't let them fool you. They put up a good front. Can't you see that you're a stooge? Okay, whatever.
Dark sky massive flight, Sunday destruction--killflay their deity. Feminine day forever, was the and is the deep smell of girl. Foolin', retarded jigsaw circumstance, massage of emptiness, a bolt of heaven. Down for real, ignition in skin, a cold rainy street morning afterward. I'll take the outside.
Giving that loser girl head. Light blue diesel Volkswagen Rabbit--you had to break down in Pennsylvania, didn't you? Waiting for a bus on a misty morning is no good after only one hour of sleep.
4:10 pm is a time I like. Orlando. The guy with the funny name--I saw his business card--Rob Snowman. I care not for valuable cards. I want to go to the Luxor. Slave 1, Boba Fett's ship. Iodine. Witchcraft store in New York. Edison. Pubes. Farthing. Swandolphin.
***BEUBLIN A. RICHARDSON***
by Frank Edward Nora
Dialogue Improvised by the actors,
with direction from Frank Edward Nora
Peter Litkey as BEUBLIN A. RICHARDSON
Julie Nora as HAZY NOPPERTY (aka LuAnn Hayes)
BEUBLIN sits in a darkened room, next to a mirror, as film footage is projected onto him.
What is creativity? Hmm, creativity is a very complex sort of thing to answer, but I am going to try to, um, describe it in simplistic terms. Say for example that you have a problem in your life. And you try to come up with a solution...
BEUBLIN sits at his desk and drinks some Orangina from a small bottle. Then looks at a can of Orangina with adoration. He picks up the can, sighs, and hugs it. As he hears HAZY entering, he quickly puts the can down. HAZY enters.
Hello Miss Hayes.
HAZY sits down across from BEUBLIN, and BEUBLIN leans back in his chair and puts his feet on the desk.
You're probably wondering why I called you in here.
Well, it will take a couple of minutes to explain, if you have the time.
Yeah. Well, first of all, you're one of our guitar players in the band, and our band has been going great. I mean the reputation and the scale of popularity has skyrocketed.
But, I've been thinking about it lately, and I think the band would do a lot better if you would show more skin. I would like you to show more skin because that's what people are into today.
HAZY leans forward in her chair.
Wait wait wait--wait a minute. I can't believe you're saying this. I am not putting on a show. I am an artist--I'm a musician. I'm not out there to be a sex object--that's ridiculous. I mean...
BEUBLIN raises his eyebrows as he interrupts HAZY.
Okay Miss Hayes, you're not understanding one thing, and that is the following. I am the director, and I want it done a certain way. And I'm telling you how I want it done.
Well, I'm the musician, and I do it a certain way, and the way I work, I mean... I can't, I cannot, I can't work that way. I can't be a sex object. I'm not a sex object. I won't be a sex object.
BEUBLIN (shaking head and sighing)
Miss Hayes, I usually get things my way. And no other way.
HAZY leans forward and casually grabs the can of Orangina.
I can't believe you're saying this...
BEUBLIN freaks out, gesticulating wildly.
Uh! No! No! No no! Don't drink out of the can! No! No no. Please don't--don't. That is too beautiful! You have to drink out of the small bottle. Please don't. Please.
Really, please don't, don't please!
Well, if you're gonna make me be a sex object, then I just drink out of it because...
No no no no no! Okay, just forget about everything I said about the sex object If you don't drink out of that can, you won't have to do it.
So forget about the sex object?
Yeah, just forget it. Don't worry about it.
As long as I don't drink out of the can?
Yeah, yeah. Please don't. Put it down. Please, please. You can do whatever you want. Stay with what you're doing, okay?
I don't know, um...
Please, Miss Hayes, PLEASE! PLEASE! Please put the can down. DON'T! DON'T! Don't deface it! Please! Please? Please? I told you...
I don't have to change my work?
No! No, no, no, no. If you just leave the can the way it is, you can do whatever you want.
HAZY stands, puts the can down, and leaves the room. BEUBLIN picks up the can, and whimpers as he holds the can close to him.
Again, BEUBLIN sits in a darkened room, next to a mirror, as film footage is projected onto him.
But, another thing about creativity is that you must be able to be very spontaneous--"Hi! I'm a rancher, and uh, I take pride in my work!" Y'know? You know what I'm trying to say? I mean, you can be totally serious at one point, and then you can totally change into a different character--"Hi, I'm a tailor! Uh, let me fix your, uh, shirt, man!" You know, that's what it really takes, I mean, going from one type of, y'know, person to another type. Very quickly and very spontaneously. And always able to keep that composure of two different types of characters. Like for my last example, to make things clearer to you--"Hi, I'm a Chinese cook, and, uh, we have some nice wonton soup for you!" Yes. Now that is the trick right there. Basically what I'm trying to say to you is that creativity also takes a lot of acting ability. Not acting in such a manner of YOU acting, but your mind has to be able to be acting. In order for you to act, in order for you to create, you have to have an imagination.
BEUBLIN turns to face the camera.
So, in a nutshell, what is creativity? Creativity is a bunch of horsesh*t, babe.
[[15028SA]] Severe Repair Almanac
Chapter 3--"Goodbye Popcorn"--21 pages
Daptin Gone, in his room at the Supbam Hotel, calls Eb Traipse at the Greatwall Base of Overwhelm Associates. He assures Eb that he'll eventually return to OA, but that he's still on an extended vacation.
His friend, Fake Cerquaine comes over and they head off on their first Mortal mission for The Caxopy Group. Everyone is making fun of him for making love to the goddess Spanking New Sarah. They stop at Basement-Wall-Thursday Mortal Supply House to get the gear they'll need for the mission.
They get all sorts of cool stuff, then the Caxopy sisters come looking for them, and they all teleport back to their office.
Chapter 4--"Awake Fluffy Netherf*ck"--16 pages
Prince Ferrajalt, in the royal palace, is informed by him mother that the Polants are coming over, and that he is to entertain them by driving them down to the seashore in the Balsativan--a huge, unwieldy vehicle.
He retreats to his room, angry.
* * *
Agoopi god Pluckemin Hacksaw sits in a traffic jam on Interarea 90 heading west through Factamane toward the city of Metraseet in Isionab, on Red Alley Earth.
He gets frustrated, and calls Elaine Caxopy, trying to set up a meeting so that he can get back to Agoopish. She asks what the nearest town is, and he gets out of his car to ask someone--but the trucker he asks isn't too helpful.
He determines that the nearest town is Tect, and he arranges to meet Elaine there. First, however, he tosses a "flattener chit" into his car, which flattens it out to only an inch or two high.
Then he jogs along the side of the road toward his destination.
* * *
Agoopi goddess Fluffy Netherf*ck wakes up in her suite at the Supbam and realizes that she's been asleep for an entire week. She gets up, showers, and gets dressed, then heads for the bookstore to see if the latest Marv Metuchen book is out.
At the store, the book is in, but not supposed to be sold yet. The store employees give her trouble, and she laments how disrespectful the denizens have become.
Back at the Hotel, she meets Tanner Loblolly, who had just summoned her fellow goddess Janine Engineen. She takes a liking to the mortal, and takes him to Cellar 16 to get to know him a little better.
[[16028SR]] Severe Repair
SEVERE REPAIR 28: "Nocturnal"
Purple flashing. I opened my eyes. A flashing purple light. For a moment, I was disoriented. Then everything came back to me. Still pretty disorienting.
I had built this new Warhome the day before, taken it out to see, and then went to bed. I'd put on a winter city evening atmospheric display, and had fallen asleep right away. The images of streets covered in snow and people walking around still surrounded me. Even a random scent of car exhaust.
But the purple light--I knew it was indicative of an incoming message. I felt a surge of unease--had Treyess and Booze found the matter-device from Treyess' crashed biplane, in the water? Had they already made their own Warhome? That had to be it. Damn.
Reluctantly, I reached over and hit the button, looking up to see the video screen. But the face that appeared was not that of Treyess or Booze. God damn if it wasn't Nevrippa Den! Lucky I still had my jumpsuit on.
"Hey there stranger! Finally get wise to the matter handler there kid?"
"What?" I asked.
"Well guy--hey--where's your friend? What I'm saying is, you must have finally figured out that you can make unlimited Warhomes with that machine built into your biplane, my Royal friend. And hey--who is this 'unknown' person I keep hearing about?"
I held up my hand and closed my eyes briefly.
"Wait, wait--just wait a minute. Give me a chance. Let me get my bearings. Now what the hell happened? Where are you?"
"Princy, Princy, Princy. You're so far out of the loop it's scary. Most of the others are asleep, but I'm pretty much nocturnal, you know."
"Yeah. So anyway--oh, I don't know. It's a long story. They thought you two were dead meat, but yours truly never gave up hope. I kept scanning for other Warhomes, and wham! I just gotcha!"
"So--where are you, uh, Nevrippa? Someplace else on this world? Are the others okay?"
"We're fine. We all made it. I knew you guys were lagging behind--I saw it on my Warhome viewscreen. I stayed in the bastard, buddy! I wasn't gonna abandon my stuff!"
"Um--you mean you didn't bail out in your plane?"
"No way! I handled it. Got pretty beat up, but I'm healthy. Managed to salvage most of my stuff intact. What a thrill ride! Wish I could patent it."
"Okay, so--where you are now--what sort of place is it?"
"It's Daptin's Land! You know, your old friend Daptin Gone? Well he's your God now! He created this entire Earth--all by himself. Pretty talented, eh? Says he felt your presence, but he couldn't pinpoint you. Limited omniscience, such a pain, you know? But he said there was someone else with you--someone like evil or something? So is God boy nuts, or is there some--"
"--yeah, yeah. There's an evil person with us. She was, uh, she was like inside Treyess' cape, you know the silver thing? She was trapped in there but got out. And she is really evil. Totally into--I mean, I don't know. Her name is Red Archer Booze. Yeah."
"So where is she?"
"Um, she's uh, she's back with Treyess."
"What do you mean? They aren't there with you?"
"Well, no. Not exactly."
"So why aren't they there?"
"They--I don't know. Treyess has just been acting weird lately. She's been hanging out with Booze way too much. You know?"
"What do you mean? You mean hanging out in like, in like THAT WAY?"
"Aw, come on. I don't want to say anything. She's under the influence of Booze. She's not responsible for her actions. She's--"
"--an evil woman stole your girlfriend? Cool!"
"What do you mean cool? What's could possibly be cool about that, dammit."
"I don't know. It's interesting. A good storyline."
"Well I know it doesn't seem like it, but this is real life! And I lost someone I really cared for! At least--at least temporarily."
"Well, sorry about all that. But dude--you're real far away. I mean real, real, real far away. Like over 10,000 miles."
I thought about that, doing a few quick calculations in my head.
"It's not so bad. What is that--a week of travelling, at most?"
"Probably not even that much, Princy. Maybe four or five days over the water, nonstop."
"So look--do Treyess and that evil chick know you've woven a new Warhome or what?"
"Um--not exactly. I just walked off really, with the matter thing, and built it. I was planning on surprising them tomorrow."
"Just like Treyess surprised you, going lesbian?"
"To put it bluntly?"
"I'm a blunt girl."
"Yeah I guess you are. I don't know--she--Booze--has some sort of aphrodisiac which drives you nuts. I know, 'cause she--y'know--she--well I may as well tell you. She seduced BOTH of us at first. But I managed to realize what was going on, and..."
"But still, you're girlfriend is doing it with another woman."
"Yeah, well, I don't know. I don't know how I feel about that. If I were king, I guess I'd have to condemn it, but I'm not. I don't know how I feel."
"Uh-huh. Hey look--you know, I know it's late and all, the middle of the night, but I promised Daptin I'd tell him as soon as I found you, you know, if you managed to figure out how to use your matter handler."
"I don't know. It could wait till morning, couldn't it? I mean--"
"No--a promise is a promise. And you know Princy, this guy is like God, so you better be nice to him. I'm gonna drive over to his house and wake him up."
"No! Wait! I mean, you really don't have to."
"I'm already on my way dude."
Okay. Okay, but... But won't he get mad? I mean, if he's like God and all, isn't it--I don't know--dangerous to piss him off?"
"Honey, nothing's dangerous for me!"
I shook my head and sat up. Too much information. And my situation was suddenly much different. Hooray! I didn't have to face a future with only Treyess and Booze as company, constantly annoying me!
"Now you just relax." Den said. "Daptin's still his same old self, only he like created this world and he's God and stuff. Okay man? Chill!"
"Okay Nevrippa. I have to, uh, go to the bathroom, so I'll be back to ya in a minute. Okay?"
I got up, but Nevrippa yelled after me.
"I'm here at the house now! Daptin should be in here and ready to talk to you in a minute!"
"Okay!" I yelled back at her, and I went to the bathroom.
As I walked back into my room, I was apprehensive--Daptin Gone was a guy I met a few times. He was a Quality Scout--nice title. It basically meant he snooped around to find any sh*t he could about people. But he was alright--always joked about his position and everything. He was one of those Red Alley guys--not a Primate, just a friend of a friend or something of Letevs Fife. Funny he'd wind up having massive powers.
So I went back to the bed and looked up at the screen. All I saw was the empty cockpit of Den's Warhome. So I lied down, put my hands behind my head, and waited.
And I thought. About what Den had said. It was funny--when I saw Treyess with Booze, it seemed perfectly, I don't know, natural. But then, I'm a guy, and all guys are perverted in that way. They love two girls together, but two guys makes them lose their lunch. Double standard? You bet. It's just what turns you on. I don't think girls get off by seeing two guys. At least, I'm pretty sure they don't. I don't know. But regardless, Booze is totally evil, and I have to get Treyess away from her at some point. Maybe Daptin could help.
Then, Nevrippa returned.
"Hey dude. Daptin'll be here in a minute. So you have a good pause that relieves or what?"
"Cool. Yeah, he was kind of mad. He definitely has a high-and-might thing going--kind of like you--but he's trying to hold back. He wants to be normal even though he's the God dude here."
"So. Read any good books lately?"
"It's funny you asked. You know, I took a book with me into the biplane. Hah, I thought it'd be the only book I'd be able to read for the rest of my life."
"What was it?"
"Uh, 'The Aleche Degrasion'?"
"Yeah. I heard of that one."
Then it occurred to me to ask the obvious question.
"So did it work?"
"Did what work?"
"Did we bring reality back?"
Den looked down and shook her head.
"Sorry," she said, then looking up again, "it didn't work. Reality is still f*cktisized."
"Yeah, darn is right! I liked Aconck. I loved travelling between all those different Earths, with all those different people and cultures, none of which could hurt me."
"So where is he? Where's God boy? Oh! There he is. Here he comes."
Den got up, and I could hear her yelling in the background.
"Yeah, come on! Come on up! I got Royalty on the comm!"
I cringed. The last thing I wanted to do was piss this guy off.
Soon, Den came back.
"Okay--here he is. I'll let him sit in my seat--but only 'cause he's God."
"Yeah." I said.
Then Daptin came into view. He looked really different from the last time I saw him. For one thing, he had a full beard and mustache, green like his hair. On his head he wore a kind of crown of evergreen branches, and he was wearing a green outfit of some sort. Also, he looked a lot older. Maybe he was just tired.
"Prince Ferrajalt." he said. "Glad to see you figured that matter handler out. I knew you were out there, but I couldn't do anything to contact or retrieve you."
"That's okay." I said. "So, uh, how've you been? Stupid question, I know."
"No. No. It's a pretty good question, actually. Hmm. Well I created a world! That seems to be the big thing."
"So are you, I don't know, are you really like God or something?"
"Uh, well, that's a tricky question. I guess the way I've figured it out is that I'm the God of this world, but not the God of any of the people in it. I mean, I didn't create YOU, or anyone else. I haven't created any animals, in fact. Just plants. And landscape, of course. So don't call me God. Nevrippa does , but that's just because she's a kook. In a good way, of course."
"Hmm." I said. "So um, I guess we should sail across your sea and get to you guys. Is everyone else there?"
"All of your friends are here, yes. But I'm going to have to ask a favor of you."
"Okay, but it was just--me and Treyess went through the vacuum and cold of space. It would have killed us, if it wasn't for superstrength. But there was--there was that girl, Sleap something, and that weird Hypergod guy. Did they make it?"
"Oh yes." he said suggestively. "They didn't have as much trouble as you apparently had, but Sleap's not your average, helpless girl. We knew all about her. She is, apparently, the one behind a lot of this madness."
"Whoah. You lost me. She was a survivor of the reality crash on Timber Serious. That's the one, right?"
"Oh yeah. She posed as a survivor--notice she was the only non-OA individual to survive. Oh yeah. There's a lot of stuff going on with her."
"So look--I hate to ask, but I have sensed a ship in one of my seas--and I'm almost definite it's the Urbandersnacheron. You know--Ky Ly Quids and the gang. You must have heard of them."
"Oh yeah. I heard some wild stuff about that gang. You must have met them on your scouting."
"Uh-huh. But the thing is, they're in pretty much the totally opposite direction from here. I figure it'll take three or four day to reach them. I can't get in touch with them or anything--another reason why I'm not God--I'm not fully omniscient OR omnipotent."
"Okay yeah, so I guess we can go help them. No problem."
"The Urbandersnacheron isn't nearly as fast as a Warhome, though. It'll take them a few weeks to get here. I was thinking--could you possibly make another Warhome, one you could leave with them? So we can remain in contact with them on their trip."
"Yeah. No problem. We can do that. How'd they get here, by the way?"
"I have no idea. They blinked in about the same time you guys did. They don't have a full crew either--seems like just the Primates. You could probably fit them in a couple of Warhomes, but we have to get the Urbandersnacheron back here at some point, so..."
Daptin looked off into space and wore a look of concern.
"So Nevrippa tells me there IS another one with you, just like I saw."
"Uh-huh. She was, I guess, imprisoned inside Treyess' cape--a long time ago, I gather. Millennia. But since this is a totally different world, well, she just climbed right out of that cape and started tormented us. Red Archer Booze. That's her name."
"She's kind of, uh, evil then?"
"Kind of? How 'bout totally? As soon as she came out, she dazzled us with a shiny bottle and made us drink from it--it was a killer powerful aphrodisiac. We--both of us--had sex with her--and each other--for hours and hours. To be blunt. Like Nevrippa."
"Ha ha." I heard Nevrippa say sarcastically from offscreen.
"So now, what is the situation? You managed to resist her, but Treyess is still in her thrall?"
"That's about the size of it."
"Hmm. Okay. And they don't know about the Warhome you wove yet?"
"Hmm. Okay--let me weigh my options. This Red Archer Booze--she seems like the prime candidate to be the "devil" of this world, to put it simply. It's funny--I created this world, yet I have this incredible desire for a personification of evil. I'm pretty sure it's so I can have the burden of supplying both the good AND evil of this world off my shoulders. Oh man. I'm tired. But isn't that screwed up? Like I'm happy there's this evil woman, just so I can anoint her the ultimate force of evil in my Land? Huh."
"Pretty f*cked-up, dude." I said. And it was. The thought of Booze becoming some sort of goddess didn't sit too well with me. I'd rather just see Daptin kill her or something.
"Yeah." Daptin said, looking like he was drifting away in thought. "Yeah. So why don't you go back to sleep and, um, well actually I'm feeling a lot of distress from Treyess. I think she's worried about you--worried that Booze did something to you. Maybe you should go to her now."
"Yeah I guess. I didn't think of that. You know, that she'd think that. But it makes sense. Okay. So I'll drive--or sail or whatever--over there and see what's up. And, and I may as well, y'know, we may as well start heading out toward the Urbandersnacheron as soon a possible, right?"
"Well yeah--but you want to weave another Warhome first, right?"
"Oh yeah. I forgot. Yeah, so I guess we'll have to spend tomorrow doing that. It takes a while. I guess you already know that."
"Indeed. So let's leave it at this--go back there propose the course of action to them--to weave another Warhome, and drive both across the sea to the Urbander, then leave one with Quids."
"Okay. But uh--I don't know. What if I have trouble with Booze?"
"Well, I know that's a problem, but I really want to get her here. So if it's at all possible, please do bring her. I'm sorry if it's going to cause you trouble, but I'd really appreciate it."
"No problem. Her main thing is pleasure, anyway--maybe at the expense of all else--but nonetheless relatively harmless. I guess."
"Okay. So I'm going back to bed. I need a lot of sleep these days, you know. I'm sure a bunch of others will be in contact with you tomorrow--make sure to have one of them get me when you're back there and working on the other Warhome--I may want to talk to this Red Archer Booze over the Warhome comm."
"Okay then. I'm glad you're back in the loop. I would have sent someone to find you, but it would have taken a long time--I couldn't pinpoint your location, I just knew it generally. And that's the problem with the Urbander, too. But I'm getting a clearer picture--I should be able to get you within scanner range."
"Good night, then."
"Okay--I'll give you back to Nevrippa."
"See? He's not so bad, for a God."
"So you got it all figgered out, kid?"
"I don't know. I don't know what's happening anymore."
"Join the club."
"So get to it, Princy! Time's a wastin'!"
"Okay. Gotta set sail. Talk to you later."
"Cool. See you soon."
The screen went dark.
I lied back down, and was motionless, trying to take it all in. It occurred to me that I was in way above my head, but then I considered my royal heritage, and knew that I would get through it all somehow.
I was just worried--about a lot of things--like how Booze would react to the crew of the Urbander--would she want to seduce all of them, even the monsters? And when we got back to the others--a lot of the Primates are naive and impressionable. She'd have a field day with Injure Bodoni!
So wouldn't it be better to strand her? I think it would, but Daptin was clear as to his intentions. He wanted her for his "devil". Great. So I'd be delivering the ultimate force of evil to the ultimate force... Wonderful.
I growled in frustration. Why me?
Then I remembered that day, it seemed liked so long ago, when the Polants came over, and I drove them down to the Hay-Hengren Seaside in the Balsativan. There was some kind of political tension going on between us and Imcre Sound, but the cable cars were still running, over the sea...
It was weird. I just sort of lost it and left the Polants. Martha was nowhere. I don't know what it was. I guess it was the nervewracking drive down the mountain--I hated driving that thing. But just having to talk to the Polants--the polite chit chat--I couldn't stand it. So I just walked away, got lost in the seaside amusement crowd. And a little later, I was sucked into my P-Vest by Supple Jake, and offered membership as a Primate in Overwhelm Associates. Huh. It seemed like the perfect thing for me, at the time. I left my parents a cryptic message about having to go away on a trip, and ran away with Overwhelm.
Look where it got me. But I guess I would have been killed like everyone else if I never got involved with Overwhelm. But I have to ask myself--was reality really destroyed, or was it only Overwhelm that was destroyed? I mean, wouldn't that make sense? It was mostly Overwhelm folks who "survived". Ah, I don't know. What am I gonna do? Take the first step. The first step back to coherence.
Reluctantly, I got up and headed back for the cockpit. At the central shaft, I looked down and saw the submarine. Now that I was on water, I could try it out--but should I? It was pretty dark outside, so I don't know what I could see. Ah, I'll leave for later. For the daytime. We'd be travelling be sea for a week or two straight--I figured there'd be more than enough chance to check it out then.
As I climbed the ladder, I looked at the speedboat and wondered why we couldn't just leave that with the Urbander crew. It had a comm, didn't it? Nah--it probably depended on the Warhome's main comm, so it'd get out of range at some point... Why am I worrying about this crap now?
I entered the cockpit, got into the driver's seat, and began fiddling with the vector display, trying to get a map of the coastline and a reading on where the girls were. After about a minute, I got what I wanted--and I saw that Treyess and Booze were still on the beach, near my crater. Nice of them to go looking for me, y'know?
So I hit the accelerator and sped forward across the water. This baby is quick, real quick. Well over a hundred miles an hour, and smooth as silk (almost). I followed what I could see of the coastline and the map on the display. At this speed, I'd be there in a few minutes.
Then I hit a few buttons, and got the map to zoom out. Yup--we WERE on an island--but it just about connected to another island at one point. Oh well. Solved that question.
I slowed as I neared the beach where the two women were probably asleep. I thought about it for a moment, then I turned on the flashing lights and siren. That oughta wake 'em up!
I couldn't really see much as I approached the shore--the combination of headlights and flashing lights made for a kind of crazy scene. But I did keep tabs on the little flashing lights which represented the two. Soon, the lights began to move.
I approached the shore slowly, and made the transition from sea to land (pretty smooth). I drove up the beach until I saw Treyess and Booze--naked and holding hands. Gag.
They were right in front of the Warhome. The sick thought of running them over ran through my head briefly as I stopped and went outside onto the walkway, leaning on the railing, looking toward them.
"Hey girls! Look what I made!"
Treyess began to walk forward, but Booze stopped her and pulled her back.
"Hey! Let go of me!" Treyess yelled.
"Let's just wait a minute." Booze said. "We don't know his intention."
"Oh, for f*cking God's sake!" I yelled. "Get off you it sick f*ck. You're the one with screwed-up intentions and bad manners. Let her go!"
Booze forcefully swung Treyess around to face her, jiggling her bottle in front of her chest.
"You don't want to go with him, do you?"
Treyess was transfixed by the twinkling bottle, all the more hypnotic in the flashing lights of the Warhome.
"I--oh, I don't know." Treyess said. "I'm so confused."
I took in a deep breath of rage and rush back inside the cockpit. I was mad, and my anger clouded my reason. I turned on the weapon/targeting system and zoomed into Booze. Then I focused the sight onto Booze's pretty head and pulled the trigger. A single blast fired from the cannon and blew Booze's head apart. I saw it all on the monitor.
F*ck! I looked up and saw Booze's limp body collapsing, Treyess covered in blood next to her, unharmed.
Then Treyess began to scream. Over and over again, her hands to her mouth. By the time I got out onto the deck, she, too, was collapsing. F*cking goddam it. I was dead meat. Daptin would kill me for sure. I just blew away his evil protege to be.
I climbed down the side of the Warhome and approached the scene of the carnage. I got sick to my stomach as I approached. I couldn't believe what I had done. I had to throw up. I leaned over and did it, feeling unbelievably miserable. When I was done I fell back onto the sand and grabbed my face with my hands, wiping vomit away from my lips.
And I began to cry. Softly at first, but then harder and harder.
How had it come to this?
[[17028CN]] Contents of OsoaWeek028, February 2, 1995
01 028 CV--Cover
02 028 HR--Hemisinister Review
03 028 HT--Halfevil Times
04 028 ZP--Zope
05 028 CZ--Classic Zope
06 028 LA--Lord of Obliviana
07 028 NH--Nihilistica
08 028 OL--Obliviana Primal
09 028 NJ--New Jersey
10 028 FE--Friction Enhancer
11 028 DC--Dashic
12 028 AB--Antebellum
13 028 SU--Superior
14 028 DH--Dehumidifier
15 028 SA--Severe Repair Almanac
16 028 SR--Severe Repair
17 028 CN--Contents
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