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Wed, 27 Aug 2008 17:00:01 -0700

The 26th Dimension
�� by� Nicole Terry
�� Hello! And welcome to the 26th Dimension. Careful, you will encounter many unusual attractions. Please mind where you step, the floor in the 10th dimension can get a bit runny, and the walls in the 17th dimension disintegrate altogether. Of course, by the 20th dimension, the telescopic ceiling will evaporate for your mental safety, but you’ll not be able to forget the pregnant pull of event horizons on your body I promise you that. No, please don’t touch that, the material feels and shatters like wedding china.

�� If you look to your mirror left you should find the bloated gases of infant galaxies comforting, and to your asymmetrical right you may see carbon planets coalescing in the dense, elemental heat. Ah, yes, the explosion of faraway bangs gravid with potential, peaceful isn’t it? I must warn you, Time will dance with the oscillating furnishings before you, and after you, if you pay close attention, but, only briefly, and only with your permission.

�� Are you chilly? I’m sorry, but I have only a blanket of anticipatory silence to offer you. Stay close, the perverted mobi�s strips of these corners can cause confusion and loss of coordination.

�� Yes, these five dimensional doorways do belch an ambiguous bouquet. I smell it too. I suppose you could cry out, but the reverberation of collapsing space would swallow it before it reached the end of your face. Apologize for bringing you here? I guess I could, but who (or what?) would bother to wipe up the mess? You could leave this particular dimension, but I wouldn’t if I were you, the doorknobs tend to move with the ticking of the space-time continuum, and you would definitely get lost in some obscure year or century, and I wouldn’t want that on my record. I’m looking to be Tour Guide of the Month, you know. Yes, those bulbous masses of what seem like satisfying sofas are ages scrolling forward and backward, but rest assured, presently we are still. No, I wouldn’t open my eyes just yet, infinity multiplied by infinity tends to stare back, I’m afraid. Even if we did remove, odds are we’ll begin again at the end, so it’s best to just move on to the end of the beginning, don’t you agree? We’re nearly around the room. So glad you noticed, the day breaks (and quite literally too!) here, often, while strange geometrically impossible shapes flap against that upside stairwell. Nothing equals nothing, so something refuses to exist here. Speaking of something, some thing with slobbering jaws and comfortable shoes just floated past your shoulder, and I think you’ve begun to grow a sixth appendage from your ribcage. No matter, the water still tastes like water every other Friday, and like cotton on every opposing Tuesday, that is, when such concepts as “Friday” and “Tuesday” bother to exist. I’m Contradictory? I suppose it may seem so. I can’t tell anymore, I’ve been here a long time. At least, I think I have. It’s difficult to know, all the clocks here are figured in modular arithmetic. Well, believe me, I don’t mean to be cryptic, but numbers are theoretical here. No, if you lean against that wall, you’ll lose viscosity, and you wouldn’t want that, would you? I know you’re tired, but we’re nearly through. See? Here’s the way in again. Oh, you needn’t worry about anything, your senses will reconstitute when you return to your own dimension.

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Tue, 26 Aug 2008 02:07:42 -0700

The Other Side
a short short story by Nicole Terry

“How long you been waitin’?” the tall boy asked the smaller one ahead of him.

�� “About two hours. You?”

�� “About the same.”

�� The two boys glanced down the line ahead of them. Fifty or more people snaked out of the doorway of The Roulette. They didn’t mind. They were in no hurry.

�� “What’s your name?” the taller boy asked.

�� “Jason. Yours?

�� “Terry. Nice to meet you.” They shook hands.

�� “Yea,” Jason agreed.

�� “Know anyone been through and made it? Cigarette?” The small boy pulled a crumpled, nearly empty pack of Smokes from his jacket pocket.

�� “Nah,” Terry said, taking a cigarette. “Thanks. You?”

�� “Yea. Had a friend, knew this kid once, his brother.” He lit their cigarettes. He took a long drag, and then said, “About ten years back when they first opened The Roulette here. `S been about half a dozen or so around, but this was the first one here. This kid’s brother was part of the first bunch of kids to be selected after they stopped takin’ adults and started using kids. He was about, oh, I don’t know, think he was about the twentieth person in line. He was behind this red-haired kid. But uh, they got to talkin’. You know, small talk. Don’t really mean nothin’. Just talkin’ so’s not to have to think about what you’re in line for, right? They get to be about fourth or fifth in line, and this red-haired kid starts freakin’, right? This kid’s brother’s like trying to keep him movin’, right, hollerin’ and cryin’, prayin’ to God and all that, man. This kid’s brother starts getting’ nervous, you know? Starts thinkin’ that if they think he’s with ‘im, and just take `em both now, you know? They can do that” The small boy paused to take a hit off his cigarette.

�� “Go on, man. What happened?” the taller boy urged, glancing down the line. The building loomed closer, the line shorter.

�� “They let the kid sniffle and scream `til they’re right at the door, man. Next, right. These huge guards snatch him outta line and take him through this other door. This kid was kickin’ and screamin’ the whole way, man. Bawlin’, right?”

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Sun, 24 Aug 2008 03:17:22 -0700

The Power of the Word
an essay by Nicole Terry

�� You must understand that words mean everything.� Why? The key to longevity is the possession of the Mind (especially when that Mind is a collective of Minds—i.e. God) with skillfully structured captured thoughts (i.e. Imagination,� Schema, Manifestation):� words combined to form sentence. Do you think it a coincidence that the “Judge” declares “Sentence” upon the “Charged”? Words combined are the same. The ability to Recall at will is meaningless, all that Matters is Memory. What is Memory?� Memory = Mind. See, once a sentence, a thought, has been planted and propagated in the Mind, that that particular sentence can be recalled is irrelevant. It is that it remains in Memory. Through the systematic regeneration of the same sentence, though structured differently and using different words, within the Memory (=Mind) the Consciousness is changed, molded, formed, shaped, mutated. This� process is known as Psychological Evolution (i.e. Socialization, Tradition, Customization, Civilization, General Belief, Rumor, Ritual, Religion, Politics, etc. etc. etc). Speak the correct “code” and one can predict the “future.” This is known as Prestidigitation.

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