Wednesday, August 5, 2015


across the edges of the magnification board, the spry and restrained of extension prefaced the following with antinomy:

the report detailed the probable occurrence of epaxial shinbones in the overseer of belief - recrimination was believed to follow

how could the formulations of debt be reascribed to liquids, at what point were the rector's metaphors entirely involved in entanglement

the rector is constructed as follows:

1. 2 cowbells
2. cyclic affordance followed by brine
3. the elimination of inflexibility
4. break
5. time to call your family
6. landless

electra:  when first signing up for the program, i realized that my spherical shape would be a detriment to progress.  but i have tradition on my side.  and i've been on tv.

the rector replied that as such, she qualified.  her grades were good, and she came highly recommended.

- although what was said in the navigation of the event, in the unattended fricasses of enforcement - no one was present in the front office, it was filled with the invention of space

as electra has shown, rectors are only successfully produced in the right conditions, which in turn depend on the weather, which is dependent on the zodiac (or season and location).  her work on this issue has become indispensable for identifying the locations of overeducation.

the overseer of belief, sycamore shamhat, had argued the previous day for an ontology without limbs.  her opponents were the gnostics and the boat-builders.  the boat-builders argued the puns made possible the creation of wood people, while the gnostics refused to argue, saying that what they believed had to be achieved through either orgasm or excruciating pain.  truth did not matter to them except as a subspecies of screaming.  they were shamhat's most difficult opponents, since they did not bring up an argument and instead resorted to what she called sensationalism.  a veritable point, she conceded, but what if the limbless have no sensations at all.  she later collaborated with the boat-builders to form a lignine ontology of spherical wood people (a clearly dismaying result for the extant tree population).

electra first met shamhat while crossing the river styx on her way to buy some carrots.  shamhat was out for a swim and was astonished to see a greek tragic heroine crossing the river of hatred - what are the chances, she thought.

- i'm a big fan of your work

- thank you

- do you have facebook?

- well yeah, but i hardly ever use it.  i really don't understand people who use it - what a waste of time!

- i use it a lot.  i've found it to be a very useful social networking tool.

- omg r u serious?  that's ridiculous.

- why?

- i bet you're one of those people who pokes all the time.

shamhat was silent, but you could tell, she probably was.  from that day forward they were mortal enemies, one arguing that social networking was a useful tool, the other that it was for morons.  shamhat swam off, her heart crushed that her childhood heroine didn't believe in the utility of web 2.0, and electra arrived at the underworld a few minutes later.

- i can't believe this!  screamed the rector.  - how could we allow the boat-builders to escape?  who will build the boats now?

- perhaps, replied his vizier, we can contract the work out to an independent agency.

- you don't understand, replied the rector, those were my boat-builders.

- i know they were, i'm just sayin.

- well i'm just sayin - they were my boat-builders.

- i know they were, you already said that

- well it didn't seem like you were listening

- well i was, i just didn't say anything.

- whatever.

the rector looked downcast and, grasping his sceptre, began chewing on the end of it.

- what are you doing?

- fuck off

meanwhile, the boat-builders were running away.  there comes a time when you've had enough of boats.  after miles and miles of running, they came across shamhat, who was sopping wet.

- why are you all wet?

- went for a swim

- where?

- styx

- what?  styx?  you went for a swim in the underworld?

- it's not the underworld.  it's *between* earth and the underworld.

the boat-builders weren't expecting that reply.  they didn't know what to say.

- look, i'm gonna go

- yeah.  yeah!  nice seeing you - i mean, talking to you, i mean - well you know what i mean

- nope

in the front office (still empty), dust began to gather on its top.  particles, navigations, inattentions.  the enforcement of dilapidation.  what did it say now to be absent, to collect an existence under the auspices of silica?  to make in this, the final invention, a moment of the impersonal - clusters and inhibitions of lava and loam.

across the way, a mountain - speechless and germinates, its precedent capacities of clamour, buoyancy.  the faces slanted, sediments and some marks documenting shipwrecks.  glancing of light on parts blocked or not, and the river full of bodily extremities which the rector had pruned as part of the normalization program.

- i am code, the rector suddenly said to his vizier, having digested half of his sceptre.

- what?

- i am code.

- what do you mean, you are code?

- i just know it's true.

- ok.

epaxial shinbones, thought shamhat the overseer, still sopping from her swim.  what could it mean.  that the leg and the spine were no longer at odds, that peace on earth could be achieved through unprecedented mutilation.  maybe this was belief, she thought, water dripping from her face.  belief, that folds and tears in the vertebra, that chips away at the remains of what the foreigners had called your legs.  what do we call it now, she thought, without the normalization program which made for (if nothing else) a picturesque river tableau.

in the tramway, apostrophes.  in the convolution of minutes and hours if there were winding roads, cries, or the glistening of adenoids it couldn't be said.  shampoo had drastically dropped in price and this had put entire towns out of work.  pins had been ported in from the border in order to reintroduce scrutiny and agony in the academy.  the schoolmaster could not see education as a possibility without the recrimination of the prospective scholar.

- with your flesh, he said.

- what?  i thought this was learning?

the mountains, over time, collapse completely into the streams.  nothing remains of helicopters but their myths and some doctored footage.  you were told that there were wars, and death.  now you believe in sitting, and organizing your living room to match your collection of books.

- sitting and books, shamhat thought.  i've only been able to excel at travelling by water to the realm of death - original, yes, but not entirely practical.  if i were to rule the world, the entire populace would be taught to sit.  kids would grow up dreaming they'd be able to sit when they're older.  or become firemen, she thought, if there were fires we would definitely need firemen.

the rector finished the last bite of his sceptre.  he looked up at his vizier.

- what are you doing tomorrow?

- i didn't have any plans

- wanna watch a movie?

- ok but i get to pick it.  last time when you picked it was that ridiculous -

- ok ok i don't wanna hear it.  you pick.

electra was told she could not take the ferry back.

- sorry, this is river of death.

- what do you mean?

- i dunno

- what about the carrots?

as part of the normalization program, she was disassembled.  her parts were clipped into the magnification board.  the recrimination of debt, they whispered, pouring in the liquid sealing solution which gelled her parts into place.  the formulators of belief assembled the river vessel that would ship the disassembled landscape back to the mainland.  the rector could be found at any time, by locating the highest concentration of cows.

the puzzle was assembled as a hemisphere, which then over time would crumble into what closely resembled a mountain.