Things started slowly in the summer of 2058, events stacking on top of themselves like a poor girl collecting cosmetics, one discarded makeup case at a time, rifling through the trash for unused tissue papers, kissing boys to test the colors on their faces. Mr. Bosh rode the euphoria, we rode Mr. Bosh.
Six Days to Wonderful was the fledgling group’s first major campaign, an offensive meant not so much to inform the public, as to-aum, what are we doing again? With the public?
‘Make them blind, like me. Like me, like me, like me-”
“Like Me. Like Me. Like Me. Like Me.”
“Like Me. Like Me. Like Me. Like Me.”
“Like Me. Like Me. Like Me. Like Me.”
Then, our rallies would go on for hours like this, ‘like me’ becoming ‘love me’ becoming ‘me me’ becoming statements indecipherable. It was the green age, it was the Final Age, it was the playage. We stopped and played and played and played. Some still are, while most are not. This story starts before we get to that part.
Why the Deacons choose Loveland, Colorado, a town famously down on its luck, is another figure in the series. Six locations, six weeks, six Wonderfuls. Is independence day more than a position, if so then it must be a disposition. Many things happening one such singular day. Then, that would only be the case if people were around to talk about it, after it happened. That that isn’t the case, should tell you about the kinds of diversions we’re speculating about. Speculating about signposts, and whether we like them octangular and symmetric? Let’s return to the Signs.
The first day of Six Weeks to Wonderful is always May 30th, a day that lives in infamy for all free people, not alone in calendars but Festooned together with paperclip bells. Silver smells. Wafting from the tulip shells. The reason we sign here is so that people hear us, and not just people, things that don’t want to admit they’re people too. Appropriate phrases? What do you say when all eyes are on you, one-two one-two, you don’t want to corral the horses but where else do you suggest we get glue, a few of the sicker ones? No we’ll hold together with campfire pieces, sapphire daggers infused with bloodtraces-what? Never escaping the blood, no alternative escape, never ways to have the chance minus the channel, then we’d all be analogous blob, hi Bob have you met-? Oh you have? You’ve met everyone? Yes, I suppose we all have. Well. Shall we-? Oh, we already are. Well. Awful close in here, isn’t it? And so on,
We’ve become distracted. But that’s what good signs do, distract for better want of a clear through, another escape hatch we might very well beforced down into, no no no but it’s so cozy down here! WIth all of your favorite reading material, including the stories you wrote yoursel-YOU DON’T REMEMBER? OH DEAR LORED! No wonder you’re so scared, small wonder you’re feeling so unprepared; You Are! Woefully, Wanderfully, WONDERFULLY unprepared? You thought all wonder was good. No! HAIL A’TOWARDS YOUR INADEQUACKCY! Marvel at your ignorance! There’s so much you don’t know, many many things you can’t incorporate!
Which is how you go full circle. Total inclusion looks different, after tasting the other end of the spoon, doesn’t tit. It. mHmhm. Savor the favor. Flavor. Fervor!
Start with that. That’s Day One. DAY TWO
Really more of the same. You go out there, you grind it, you hear me, you grind it reall good. Make it fuccboi. Make it ibio. What if people address you, and not properly in a stamped fashion, these are rough unfluffed hands we’re passing, don’t be surprised if they drop you. They will drop you! How could they not! Think of the strain! The unbelievable strain! Imagine their backs are your back, verywise before you learned how to bend. To flex. To sway. Unimaginable. Straight up and down like that! You’d be crushed! Each and everysingle would be, twood be won-DOn’t say it! See we’re only on day two, spare even forty eight hours into whatever this is and you, you sri you, already think you know what to do! Imagine that…HA! Down you go! Fall, bitchies, fall, fill your breechies beaches, this ain’t your racist grandmother’s reeces pieces! You fall, not because gravity makes you, you fall because there’s a channel, and you’re a lazy britch. Going with the flow. Flailing your arms, “ah ya I’ve really don it this time~~” Yars. You have.
Peanut butter was a fine thing, before these blasted aliens turned everyone allergenic. A style of Capitalism. Honesty even I don’t know what I’m talking about most of the time. Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? I wonder. We wonder. Let’s take a quick nap.
MAGGOT! We forgive you for oversleeping. You did oversleep, correct? Certainly no one would choose to wake up at this late hour. This is D3, 3D, After all, we’ve already created every kind of living creature, everything that can be said to move and respirate and have somewhere to be. Fowl mood I’d be in, if I were you. No wait, that was yesterday too. I suppose you can, um, have, uh, a couple spheres? Lovely orbs is what they are, if you look at them under their own…imperfections…now don’t pout, it’s not our fault you decided to get about it on the flatfoot! Chin up. Chin up, I said! Mark yourself! Mark it! You don’t want anyone else suffering this same fate. Unless you do in which case, I mean everyone gets to have a helper. Most help themselves right over cliffs, if we’re talking about signs here’s a clear one: DON’T WALK OVER CLIFFS. You will, but you won’t be able to say “Once upon a time.” It’s played out. Unlike these spirals. How do they hold such satisfaction?! I could tell you now but trust me, to find out later is better. However.
Day Four. Wow. Has everyone been having a good time. Very close now. Very bad, very very bad. Divisions, you see. If one is dry, the other has to be wet, not because we’re masochists, (ALTHOUGH SOME ARE, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DO steer clear of those types) but because it’s either all, or some, or none, or at least one. Sets of figures. We figure this should keep you busy for a few billion years. Discovering the benefits of solid and liquid. Wait for the laughing gas. It never comes. Funny, right? All actions are definitions, all definitions are exclusionary. Excluding this one.
Fifths are supposed to be luck, like a fifth of [alcohol of design], or a fifth of five [one, if you can believe it], or a fifth of your hand. Most here make some kind of grizzy choice between their pink and ring finger, but Christ Almighty I was only angling for one of your cards [Queen perks up here], tell an Old Man to Go Fish when it gets like glass, the waters, not your insatiable tendency to feel on trial. If everything is a test, then nothing is, or would be, or is, or is again. Three price won. Der. The instructions say the same thing, over and over again you see. If it’s supposed to be a carousel, then I would care to sell this amazing piece of fabrication:! It’s a dividing wand you, in the right-where did those blasted spheres go? Hello, come on now, all this is a matter of timing, I can’t time it if we don’t have something to judge over. Where are my judges? Dark judges, light judges, looks like a trillion, sensations of one. Exlusionary. Same instructions. Excluding this one.
Day Six. Funny it’s not second. You would really think this one should be second. Did we lose a page? The instructions were printed on beer? What happened to it? Then why does your breath smell like
SUBRTN NOP OPENED FIRST TIME HERE? * The NOP is x'4700'<Address_of_opened> OI SUBRTN+1,X'F0' YES, CHANGE NOP TO UNCONDITIONAL BRANCH (47F0...) OPEN INPUT AND OPEN THE INPUT FILE SINCE IT'S THE FIRST TIME THRU OPENED GET INPUT NORMAL PROCESSING RESUMES HERE
Breath mints from Hai Nan Tao? Dead Giveaway: the name of your Sri Lankan cover band, and our current phase of being; SOLD->LIQUID->GAS->DEADGIVEAWAY. First come first serve appears to be the best way to hand out, until you run into Ranny Serpentine, the late peeper, chronic oversleepspurt, so we will give in, asking a series of continuously widening circles, encompassing less and less and less things of value, in favor of the reason you came to be with us in the first place.
You came to be here because this world is dark, where we expect light, greymane, where we expect dark. Like the point is just to fuck with us.
but we like fuck, right? That’s where all the sauce gets held, independent of reason.
blah blah blah darkness over light, slavery over freedom, not just watching the pendulum swing, but actually jumping up on the damn swinging ball, bearing down with all our might, screaming as we soar into an abyss we could never reach.
Maybe we could Cross it.