|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 078--1/19/96 <-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 6  ||  -------> (Cup OWis078, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [[BEGIN078OW]] [[01078CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 7 8 * * * January 19, 1996 "The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!" by Frank Edward Nora CONTENTS 01 078 CV--Cover 02 078 LA--Lord of Obliviana 03 078 NH--Nihilistica 04 078 SU--Superior 05 078 SR--Severe Repair OsoaWeek078, January 19, 1996 13th and last issue of OsoaWeek Book 6 Written by Frank Edward Nora Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement (E-mail address in transition) 1-800-OBLIVIANA http://www.obliviana.com/~osoa All contents copyright 1996 Frank Edward Nora Regarding this file, you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. A CupFrontier containing this file will be available. Stay tuned for more details. Character count: 23845 / Line count: 734 / Days late: 23 *OW* [[02078LA]] Lord of Obliviana Sat 2/10/96 * 1:10 PM * home Well, here I am--at the end of OsoaWeek Book Six. A year-and-a-half of effort so far. Year Two is half-full. Or half-empty. There will be some changes next issue, as Book Seven begins. Sun 2/11/96 * 9:28 AM * home * Tarb 3380 As I said above, there will be a format change next issue, to bring OsoaWeek in synch with GOO. 10:51 AM * Tarb 3381 Wow, I just figured out Tarbs and OsoaWeek issues up to 1999! (See "Tarb Guide" in Nihilistica, below). Huh! What a trip! So right now, we're in the 3300's. It's an amazing period of blossoming in the Obliviana Universe. The 3400's begin on Valentine's Day at 2 PM. 11:08 AM So I gotta figure out what's happening. Basically, next issue is gonna contain that "Afternoon" file, as well as a whole new format, and Super Stats, of course. I don't think Book Six will do too bad. Its average characters per issue should be decent, nothing like the pathetic Book Five. 12:29 PM Man, I was smoking a Montecristo Habana before, and I had to stop halfway through cuz it was knocking me out! Those Cuban cigars are way strong. Maybe I'll finish it later. Even with the severe degradation of being already-smoked, I figure it should still be okay. It tasted awesome. I watch The McLaughlin Group while smoking it. They were talking about Hillary Clinton and junk. 11:03 PM * home * Tarb 3384 Well, I went to see "Broken Arrow" with my brother at Menlo Park. Not bad. Smoked the Montecristo in the car, and I couldn't finish it, again! Smoked it again on the way home, and finally tossed it out the window, almost finished. What a cigar! On the drive home, the storyline for this issue's Chapter of Severe Repair took shape in my mind. So I came home and wrote it. Bought the CD "Saturday Morning"--different bands doing the Saturday Morning cartoon hits of the '70s. Not bad. Playing this Super Nintendo game "Super Pinball" all day today. Left it on all day, finally at the third board, had 190,000,000 points, but missed the forbidden door! I was fucking pissed! Anyway, today has been a good day. You may remember I referred to a file called "Chemistry" once. Well, this file, dealing with my pathetic and somewhat supernatural love life, is today officially closed. Thank goodness. Don't expect to see "Chemistry" ever published--it's far too personal. And I mean it. So, right now, I am going to finish up Book Six! Haha, whattaya know. What a day this is! It's not every day that I complete a Book of OsoaWeek! Well, as I always say at the end of LOA... GET ALL OBLIVIANA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *OW* [[03078NH]] Nihilistica ***TARB GUIDE*** Fri 1/19/96: 3241 thru 3246 (OsoaWeek078, 13th and last issue of Book Six. It's where this text resides; I'm still working on it.) Sat 1/20/96: 3247 thru 3253 Sun 1/21/96: 3254 thru 3259 Mon 1/22/96: 3260 thru 3265 Tue 1/23/96: 3266 thru 3271 Wed 1/24/96: 3272 thru 3277 Thu 1/25/96: 3278 thru 3282 Fri 1/26/96: 3283 thru 3288 (OsoaWeek 079, first issue of Book Seven) Sat 1/27/96: 3289 thru 3294 Sun 1/28/96: 3295 thru 3300 Mon 1/29/96: 3301 thru 3306 Tue 1/30/96: 3307 thru 3312 Wed 1/31/96: 3313 thru 3318 Thu 2/1/96: 3319 thru 3324 Fri 2/2/96: 3325 thru 3330 (OsoaWeek080, 2nd issue of Book Seven) Sat 2/3/96: 3331 thru 3336 Sun 2/4/96: 3337 thru 3342 Mon 2/5/96: 3343 thru 3348 (3344 is the first recognized Obliviana Tarb, and in an incredible coincidence, it is also the 16th 209 Tarb! See OsoaWeek077 for more details.) Tue 2/6/96: 3349 thru 3354 Wed 2/7/96: 3355 thru 3360 Thu 2/8/96: 3361 thru 3366 Fri 2/9/96: 3367 thru 3372 (OsoaWeek081, 3rd issue of Book Seven) Sat 2/10/96: 3373 thru 3378 Sun 2/11/96: 3379 thru 3384 (Right now, it's 3380--this issue is pretty late) Mon 2/12/96: 3385 thru 3390 Tue 2/13/96: 3391 thru 3396 Wed 2/14/96: 3397 thru 3402 ("...and I'm dancing on the Valentine...") Thu 2/15/96: 3403 thru 3408 Fri 2/16/96: 3409 thru 3414 (OsoaWeek082, 4th issue of Book Seven) Fri 2/23/96: 3451 thru 3456 (OsoaWeek083, 5th issue of Book Seven) Fri 3/1/96: 3493 thru 3508 (OsoaWeek084, 6th issue of Book Seven) Fri 3/8/96: 3535 thru 3540 (OsoaWeek085, 7th issue of Book Seven. 209 Tarb 17 happens at 3553, Mon 3/11/96, 2 AM to 6 AM) Fri 3/15/96: 3577 thru 3583 (OsoaWeek086, 8th issue of Book Seven) Fri 3/22/96: 3619 thru 3624 (OsoaWeek087, 9th issue of Book Seven) Fri 3/29/96: 3661 thru 3666 (OsoaWeek088, 10th issue of Book Seven) Fri 4/5/96: 3703 thru 3708 (OsoaWeek089, 11th issue of Book Seven) Fri 4/12/96: 3745 thru 3750 (OsoaWeek090, 12th issue of Book Seven) Fri 4/19/96: 3787 thru 3792 (OsoaWeek091, 13th and last issue of Book Seven) Fri 4/26/96: 3829 thru 3834 (OsoaWeek092, first issue of Book Eight) Sat 7/27/96: 4375 thru 4380 (OsoaWeek105, first issue of Book Nine, Year Three begins) Sat 10/26/96: 4921 thru 4926 (OsoaWeek118, first issue of Book Ten) Sat 1/25/97: 5467 thru 5472 (OsoaWeek118, first issue of Book Eleven) Sat 4/26/97: 6013 thru 6018 (OsoaWeek131, first issue of Book Twelve) Mon 7/28/97: 6559 thru 6564 (OsoaWeek144, first issue of Book Thirteen, Year Four begins) Tue 7/28/98: 8743 thru 8748 (OsoaWeek196, first issue of Book Seventeen, Year Five begins. OsoaWeek209, Tue 10/27/98, is the first issue of Book Eighteen. Tarb 9999 falls on Mon 2/22/99, from 10 AM to 2 PM. Tarb 10000 starts at 2 PM and last till 6 PM.) Wed 7/28/99: 10927 thru 10932 (OsoaWeek248, first issue of Book Twenty-One, Year Six begins) ***SONGS OF THE WEEK*** "Pop Songs" by Gren (from the album "Camp Grenada") <I really like this band, even though they're unabashedly Nirvana-inspired. I hope they get popular, but I get the feeling they might not.> "The Tra La La Song (One Banana, Two Banana)" performed by Liz Phair (from the rock compilation "Saturday Morning") <This is the theme song from "The Banana Splits Adventure Hour", now shown in reruns on The Cartoon Network. One of the finest things on TV!> ***ELECTION '96*** After watching the Sunday morning political shows today (2/11/96) I really think that Lamar Alexander might be our next president, with Colin Powell as Vice President, of course. The reason for this is that there are only four realistic candidates left in the Republican Primary (with the Iowa caucuses tomorrow)--Dole, Forbes, Buchanan, and Alexander. Forbes is a total dork who's never gonna make it. I love Buchanan, but he really is too wacky in the final analysis to get the nomination. And I think Dole has a good chance of sputtering out and his campaign falling apart. This leaves Alexander, a kind of boring, average seeming dude--but a guy who'd definitely make a good candidate. Along with Colin Powell, who'd be nuts to reject a VP offer, I think he can kick Clinton's ass! Alexander/Powell. Huh. Sounds pretty good. Of course, even if that fucker Clinton wins, it'll still be good for Republicans--can you see that clown getting through ANOTHER four years? Jesus Christ, we'd have 99% of both the House and the Senate GOP! *OW* [[04078SU]] Superior SUPERIOR 461 * 1/21/96 See, if. Yeah 2 be boyfriend, I want to be hers. Gimme a chance girl. Not working, smoke rising, song singing yours. Big superhero yeah, just another other. The day, the days, he was. Out of focus, out of focus. Film school. Gotta. I am at the edge of her. SUPERIOR 462 * 1/23/96 Jackdaw Cloth, come keep me company this evening. The scariness of the cyan jack'o'lantern. Little radio towers on all buildings, what the hell could it mean. I am another one. Getting your jollies in front of your computer, how bad is that? Creamy lights within the fog, fear in a foreign place, girl in a uniform, the promise of outer space. I am uneasy as to the dawn--it is small. SUPERIOR 463 * 1/31/96 Dude, bewildered, figure out your finances. What who ya got, you know this is just a phase. Millimeter mine shaft, the torch of tude and osity. The phrase, head spinning, of weird love. Flowers abound, and you know Jessica. Famous flight, famous railroad achievement, chalk of fear and overextending yourself. SUPERIOR 464 * 2/5/96 Shrewd off, dummy. What kind of a creature am I, oh it's okay because I'm New. Tulode, did we talk about mica? All afternoon? Florida hotel. Wish I was in New York. Enough time. For again. We are stammering, who said we were smooth. And over, a painting lashed to a chain link fence. And we don't understand the art in it. SUPERIOR 465 *2/5/96 Loony Sean, how I wished you'd make it, a national contest, you got to live my dream, and now in the darkest hour, I can but wait, for the fray is eroded, and my pinata is old. Beat on me. It all gets quiet. There will not be another chance. It's 18 years later, what am I complaining about. SUPERIOR 466 * 2/5/96 More on that in a minute. The beauty of shirt, am I avoiding my adulthood. Trying and crushing. It's for the birds. I am misty, and seasidey, and long ago, and crossbow game, and gone from here, forest and pajamas, excuse my sawdust. True and exquisite--sawdust or stardust--we all have to drive latenights--it's not a barrier. We hear the red light of black bird morning, and whistle to a newborn day. Whether it is hot... there is always something... that comes next... those of us... who have trouble playing the game... our misery is sometimes our greatest joy... and when we get wet in an unexpected way... we can live in the moment, much better than you. SUPERIOR 467 * 2/6/96 We want to experience other people. Touching, loving. The naked female body, you want to experience it. Touch it, get into it. Your tongue, your hands, your panic. SUPERIOR 468 * 2/10/96 Wantingmore. My home is called that. Not Fallingwater. Wantingmore. *OW* [[05078SR]] Severe Repair SEVERE REPAIR 65: "A Million Miles Out on Twicvion Lane" Walking along the top of a snowbank in a parking lot... I'm so small and awkward... ambling along with difficulty... giant shopping center... shopping center... This drifting... is killing me... the frightening thought... the thought that there's no way out... that I'll be drifting forever... Back in that conference room... listening to that speaker... his putrid words... I didn't have the state of mind to get up and run away... to tell someone of my plight... I just didn't think of it. The wonderful suburban reprise... summer days, like cherished memories... why couldn't it have lasted longer... I would have liked it there. Then I heard a faint burst of beeps and clicks... a weird, bird-chirpy kind of noise... but I understood it... I understood it perfectly... "Is that you, Bellicose Billion?" I clumsily bobbled myself around and peered over the expanse of the enormous empty parking lot--and on a distant snowbank, I saw three little... I don't know what they were... they looked like little robots or something... their bodies were spheres, covered with colorful patterns, and they had tubular arms and legs--flexible, kind of like springs. They were waving at me. I attempted to answer, and my words came out as the same sort of clicking and beeping--"Who is it that is there?" I could hear the three little things conversing among themselves, but I could make out what they were saying. A strong wind whipped up and I lost my balance, falling onto my side. Yeah, judging from the way I fell, I was a little spherical robot just the others. This drifting... I laughed to myself... if I ever get out of it, it would sure be a great thing to write down... what a book that would make. I struggled to right myself, kicking snow and ice down the side of the snowbank, panicking when it seemed I might fall down. But I managed to get standing again. This little mechanical body... it felt so weird... One of the others beeped and clicked again--"My name is Agatha Petunia Wack. I am here with Daptin Gone and Prince Ferrajalt." Then another one "spoke"--in a deeper "voice". "Bellicose--it's me--Daptin Gone. I heard your call for help." I responded. "If this is for real, you don't know how grateful I am." "I can imagine." Daptin replied. There was a silence as we regarded each other, and the wind whipped up again. This time, I lost my footing totally, and tumbled head over heels down the snowbank. The world around me was spinning so fast--NO!--don't let me perish, so close to the rescue. Once I reached bottom, I was upside-down in the snow, facing the others, who looked upside-down from my perspective. The one which must have been Prince Ferrajalt let out a series of noises which could only have been a laugh. "Don't worry, we'll do the same and come to you." Agatha said, and I saw the three tumble down their snowbank. I have to admit it WAS pretty funny. But I didn't laugh. Soon, I managed to right myself again and saw that the three were trekking the considerable distance between our respective snowbanks. I also began walking, to meet them all the sooner. Then I heard a noise like thunder to my right, and I saw an enormous car go by, in another lane. So huge! The shopping center must have been farther away then I originally imagined... judging from the scale of things, I must have been only four or five inches tall. As I approached the three, I could make out the patterns on their surfaces. One was white with green pine-branches on it--had to be Daptin. Another was black and white, with gold trim--the color scheme of the Warhomes--that had to be Ferrajalt--I remembered that he wore the police uniform from the Warhomes most of the time. The third, which had to be this "Agatha" person, was a beautiful shape of blue with yellow squiggly lines all over it. "How did you find me?" I asked, still a good distance away. "A collaboration between me and Agatha." Daptin said. "I heard your cry for help, and Agatha facilitated our transport here... to wherever here is... any ideas?" "No." I said. "I just got here myself. I've been... drifting... through a series of crazy realities." "Yeah, I'd say this is a crazy reality." said Ferrajalt. I laughed--or at least made the closest sound to a laugh I was capable of in my transformed state. "Yes." I said. We met, and I got a better look at the robot bodies. They were rather simple--one circular, camera-lens-like opening--a raised band that went around the sphere from bottom to top--and the efficient arms and legs, ending in little stumps. "It's amazing that we found you." Daptin said. I could find nothing to say. "Now we have to attempt the return." said Agatha. "Attempt?" I wondered. "Yes Mr. Billion." she said. "getting here was hard enough, but getting back might be more difficult. The only way I can figure it is to go back to the Road." "Why am I not surprised by this?" Ferrajalt said sarcastically. Huh. Amazing how the sarcasm came through in the beeps and clicks. "Uh, Daptin--is there anything you want to do before I make the try? I can't guarantee anything." Ferrajalt made an exclamation, but it carried to specific meaning. "Yes." Daptin said. "Bellicose--in case we're separated, please tell me how you came into this situation. What is happening in my Land?" "Daptin--I jumped off your Bridge--Booze and Drassy--they instituted orgy--I endured for a day but no more. Drassy intends to pierce Gnoboslast as soon as she tired of the orgy." "Just as I expected." Daptin said. There was silence for a few moments. "Look, why don't we just get this over with?" Ferrajalt said. "If this is the end of the road for me--for us--" "Oh don't worry Prince," Agatha said, "you won't lose existence, it's just I don't know where any of us will end up." "That's reassuring." Ferrajalt said. The sarcasm again. "Well, if you're all agreed, I'll set it off now." Agatha said. We all agreed, and in the next instant, we were standing in the middle of a rocky wasteland--on a road that looked newly paved--and we were human again. There was an odd smell in the air, quite pleasing, like citrus or something. There they were--Daptin and Ferrajalt as I remembered them--and a very strange looking young woman--one arm was furry with a clawed and, and her face--big eyes, almost no nose--quite a fascinating female! "Looks like we made it." Ferrajalt said, looking around. I joined him in looking around, and saw a tower of some sort in the distance, very slim, but topped with projections that made it look a little like a second-stage dandelion--the one with those little airy parachutes all over it. As soon as Agatha set eyes on it, she swore. "Oh no." she said. "What is it?" I asked. "On no. No, no, no. I know where we are." "Well that's a good thing--isn't it?" "No, no, no. Oh no." "What is it?" Daptin asked testily. "That tower," she said, "is Lincinspire." "So you know where we are." Said Ferrajalt. "Yes." she said. "I know where we are. We're in Twicvion Lane." "Is that bad?" Daptin asked. "Not that we're no Twicvion Lane, but..." "What?" Ferrajalt asked. "That tower... Lincinspire... it marks... it marks a million miles from the nearest civilization." "WHAT?" Ferrajalt exclaimed. "A million miles. It was erected by a Winter Stadium Them team, many centuries ago. They explored many of the offshoots of Rillekon's road--and once they reached a million miles--they left a marker post--each of them two or three miles tall..." "Can you transport us from here?" Daptin asked. "What?" she said, distracted, "No. From here? I have no leverage at all. There's nowhere to go." Daptin nodded, as in quickly thinking. "So... so what does this mean?" he asked. "I don't know!" she said. "It means that it's a million miles to the nearest people or supplies." "So we're fucked, basically." Ferrajalt said. "Hold on! Let me think!" she said. I frowned, wanting to say something, but unable to think of anything good. Finally rescued... delivered from limitless drifting to a dying-of-thirst-or-starvation predicament. "I can't believe it!" Ferrajalt said. "After all that's happened to me--Lunatether--the Tock Hounds--I can't believe I'm gonna die out here--a million miles from nowhere! You know that? We're a million miles from nowhere!" "Calm down, dammit!" Agatha said. "I am perceiving a way out of here..." She approached Daptin, a clawed finger pointed toward him. He backed away a little. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna bite, Prince!" she said. "It's just... that... I see the solution to our problems... here." She pointed at one of the little metal buttons on Ferrajalt's cop shirt. "Huh?" the Prince asked. "These buttons." she said. "These buttons are our way home." "Buttons?" Ferrajalt said incredulously. "Wait a minute." Daptin said. "I think this might make some sort of sense. Take of your shirt, Prince. Let's see if we have something." Ferrajalt nodding his head in frustration. "Fine, fine." he said, as he unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, leaving him standing there in an undershirt. Agatha took the shirt and began examining it. With one of her claws she ripped one of the buttons off with some difficulty and began to scrutinize it. "Here, look." she said, moving close to Ferrajalt, the button held close to her face. "Look at this." Ferrajalt looked at the button, and a look of amazement came to his face. "No fucking way!" he said, smiling. "It's a matter handler! A fucking matter handler!" "What?" Daptin said, rushing over to examine the button. "It looks--there a little grill on the back--just like the matter handlers. It all makes sense! An emergency system, built into... even the clothing that the Warhomes have! Haha! With these buttons, we can build Warhomes!" * * * Soon, Ferrajalt and Daptin discovered a tiny pin concealed in the side of the buttons, and with this pin, they could probe under the tiny grilled opening on the back of the buttons and press a tiny button there in the recess. As soon as they did this, the button skittled off, as if it were on a shaky surface, leaving a scar in the ground behind it, as it ate up matter. "God damn!" Ferrajalt exclaimed. "It's gonna work!" "But then what?" I said. "We'll have food, water, and shelter, but we still have a million miles to travel!" "I don't know." Daptin said. "Think about it--two, three hundred miles per hour, top speed?" Ferrajalt nodded. "So--we can set it on autopilot--go day and night." Daptin said. "Say, 250 miles per hour. Okay? So that's--let's estimate 25 hours per day--that's--about 6000 miles per day. Say 5000. Okay. So how many days is that to make a million miles? Uh..." "About 200." Agatha said. "That's right!" Daptin said. "Which is about... uh..." "Six or seven months." Ferrajalt said, nodding. "That's not so bad!" "But will we make it in time to stop Sleap?" said Daptin. "There's no other way." Agatha said. "Maybe we can radio ahead?" I asked. "Warn someone?" "No." Agatha said. "No one can get to Daptin's Land except Daptin himself. And then, only when I get him to the right spot." "Oh." I said. "Well, do they have any faster transports that they might send, to intercept us?" "Not that much faster." she said. "Besides, the chance of getting a message to span across this wasteland is remote. I know that Winter Stadium had a hard time with telecommunication on their major exploration." "Oh well, just a thought." I said. Ferrajalt regarded the rest of the buttons, which were in his hand. There were seven in all. "So--what should we do--just make one, or like, one for each of us?" "Let's make four." Daptin said. "I for one need the privacy to mull over my plans to recover my land. Not to be antisocial, but a single Warhome is rather close quarters." "No argument here." Ferrajalt said. "We can visit each other with the planes." Daptin said, and we all nodded. * * * About six hours later, we set off, each of us in our own Warhome. It took a little while to get them all programmed to travel the road at top speed and follow each other at a set distance. But we got it going. Agatha was in the lead, me second, Ferrajalt third, and Daptin was the caboose of our otherworldly train. "Well, it looks like we're on our way!" Ferrajalt said over the comm. "Yeah." Agatha said. "These things aren't too hard to drive. I shouldn't have been so intimidated." "Well," Daptin said, "just cuz you never heard of such a thing as a driver's license is no reason you can't be a good driver." We all laughed. "Well folks," Ferrajalt said, "looks like we're cruising at close to 310 M.P.H. And my calculations here... uh... it looks like we'll cover a million miles--barring and mishaps or obstructions, in something like 134 days. Maybe four-and-a-half months." "Not too bad." I said. "As long as the universe is still there when we hit civilization." "Yeah." Ferrajalt said, with a bittersweet chuckle. "Well people, we have a lot of time on our hands, and I suggest an excellent book from the library you might like to read--'The Aleche Degrasion'." And we sped on through the wasteland, one after another, as night fell around us. *OW* [[END078OW]] -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----