“I hate to say this but I don’t have time to help you right now,” he said, cradling his cell-phone against his ear so he could lean over and power up his gaming console. “No, friend, sorry - I’m too swamped.” It took another five minutes to boot up the system, during which time he stared at the blank television, his mind awhirl with memories of the previous day’s gaming successes. ‘I got one more percent of the game completed!’ he thought triumphantly. ‘Just 92 percent left to go...’ An update was available, and he approved it.
‘Thirty minutes!?’ he thought, dismayed, peering at the status bar that indicated how long the game’s status update would take to transfer over to his system. For a brief moment, he thought about calling his friend back and telling him he had thirty minutes to spare in which he could do the simple thing asked of him.
Part of him rebelled however, incensed that he would consider giving up even a moment of precious playtime, let alone a full thirty minutes during which he was not really playing but merely watching the slow crawl of a status bar that indicated the time he would have to wait until he could actually play. A different part of him - this one far quieter - told him that the right thing to do would be to help his friend. Like the girl who locked a kitten in a closet and listened as it mewed less and less loudly by the day until it finally died of thirst, at which point she simply threw it in the trash, the man just sat there.
And stared at the screen.
And watched the status bar inch slowly to the right.
And wasted his life waiting to waste his life some more instead of helping a friend in need.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
americanifesto.com | updated Tuesday, Thursday, Sunday
31 March 2017
29 March 2017
researcher makes discovery
Late last night, in ---, a city located just outisde --- State Park, Dr. ---, a scientist researching ---, found a causal link between --- and the early onset of ---. “It’s exciting to think that --- mixed with --- could possibly forestall the development of ---,” Dr. --- said while standing at table in his laboratory at the University of ---. “If this process works as well in humans as it has in mice and ---, --- might just a thing of the past.”
Sceptics doubt that treatments using --- could ever delay, let alone cure, ---.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑
Sceptics doubt that treatments using --- could ever delay, let alone cure, ---.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑
27 March 2017
personhood for Liberty?
Following the recent decision by the government of India to grant full personhood status to the Ganges and Yamuna rivers, members of the U.S. legislature are mulling a similar move for the concept of Liberty. Trampled upon by legislative decrees that stifle free speech as well as current police practices that deprive citizens of their property without due process of law, Liberty has had a hard go at things in America.
Supporters of the attempt to grant personhood to Liberty are facing down these opposition groups, among others: ones that profit from America’s immoral, unethical, and unwarranted use of violence and war-like force at home and abroad (i.e. the military-industrial complex); ones that profit from the incarceration of American citizens for possessing drugs these citizens wish to use (i.e. the prison-industrial complex); ones that receive taxpayer fund as a reward for engaging in high-risk speculative behavior (i.e. the banking-industrial complex).
In the unlikely event that Liberty is granted personhood, any individual or corporation that violates the Constitutional rights of Americans to live in peace with the various peoples of the world whilst altering their bodies with whatever drugs they choose without having to pay trillions of dollars to bail out greedy bankers; any individual who, or corporation that, abuses his responsibility toward the welfare of all Americans equally (this responsibility being itself indistinguishable from Liberty); such an individual will have his Liberty taken from him for no less than three days and no more than one year’s time, and such corporation will have its own personhood revoked and its assets redistributed for the betterment of all Americans equally (in the form of infrastructure, community gardening, or guaranteed basic income projects or the like).
In betting houses around the world, the chances of American Liberty gaining personhood stand at 10,000 to one.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
Supporters of the attempt to grant personhood to Liberty are facing down these opposition groups, among others: ones that profit from America’s immoral, unethical, and unwarranted use of violence and war-like force at home and abroad (i.e. the military-industrial complex); ones that profit from the incarceration of American citizens for possessing drugs these citizens wish to use (i.e. the prison-industrial complex); ones that receive taxpayer fund as a reward for engaging in high-risk speculative behavior (i.e. the banking-industrial complex).
In the unlikely event that Liberty is granted personhood, any individual or corporation that violates the Constitutional rights of Americans to live in peace with the various peoples of the world whilst altering their bodies with whatever drugs they choose without having to pay trillions of dollars to bail out greedy bankers; any individual who, or corporation that, abuses his responsibility toward the welfare of all Americans equally (this responsibility being itself indistinguishable from Liberty); such an individual will have his Liberty taken from him for no less than three days and no more than one year’s time, and such corporation will have its own personhood revoked and its assets redistributed for the betterment of all Americans equally (in the form of infrastructure, community gardening, or guaranteed basic income projects or the like).
In betting houses around the world, the chances of American Liberty gaining personhood stand at 10,000 to one.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
24 March 2017
oil producers wanted
An industry-leading grease and lubricant conglomerate is seeking volunteers to test a new method for producing valuable, small-batch oils. The interested person should not be claustrophobic and must be able to wear an air-tight compression suit during all hours of the day and night, for weeks on end. Participants must be familiar and comfortable with catheterization as well as the (potential) use of a colostomy bag.
Volunteers will be required to wear a suit designed to capture such oils as the human skin constantly produces. Once a month during the three (3) months-long study, said oils will then be harvested by a trained technician and tested for their potential use in cosmetics and heavy manufacturing. The method of harvest will proceed as follows: first, most of the accumulated skin-mat is removed via pneumatic suction applied through nozzles placed at strategic locations across the suit; then, non-invasive scraping administered by a dermatology specialist removes any remaining accumulations.
The interested person must be willing to alter his general diet and volume of food-intake according to company-mandated guidelines. Non-married (single) persons are preferred for this study.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
Volunteers will be required to wear a suit designed to capture such oils as the human skin constantly produces. Once a month during the three (3) months-long study, said oils will then be harvested by a trained technician and tested for their potential use in cosmetics and heavy manufacturing. The method of harvest will proceed as follows: first, most of the accumulated skin-mat is removed via pneumatic suction applied through nozzles placed at strategic locations across the suit; then, non-invasive scraping administered by a dermatology specialist removes any remaining accumulations.
The interested person must be willing to alter his general diet and volume of food-intake according to company-mandated guidelines. Non-married (single) persons are preferred for this study.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
22 March 2017
its proper place
He slowed down, stopping on the side of the road. Baggage had shifted to the left-hand side of his vehicle, unbalancing it. With due care, he gently moved the items back into an equilibrium of sorts, allowing the right side of his mount to bear its equal share of the weight. Moments later, without his even realizing it, he found that the baggage had shifted again, whereupon he, again, pulled over.
And, again, he restored equilibrium.
He went merrily along his path for a while, paying close attention to keeping everything in its proper place. Someone swerved into his lane, however, a potentially sticky situation narrowly avoided. This time, only some of the baggage had shifted, not all of it, for he had tried hard to stay aware of where things were despite distraction. He pulled over and repositioned the things that had crept to the front and left of the vehicle.
Once more making headway, his vehicle balanced for the time being, he decided to pay closer attention to the moment when things actually started to shift. He felt it and, for once, stopped the inequilibrium before it became pronounced.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
And, again, he restored equilibrium.
He went merrily along his path for a while, paying close attention to keeping everything in its proper place. Someone swerved into his lane, however, a potentially sticky situation narrowly avoided. This time, only some of the baggage had shifted, not all of it, for he had tried hard to stay aware of where things were despite distraction. He pulled over and repositioned the things that had crept to the front and left of the vehicle.
Once more making headway, his vehicle balanced for the time being, he decided to pay closer attention to the moment when things actually started to shift. He felt it and, for once, stopped the inequilibrium before it became pronounced.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
19 March 2017
an anonymous intruder
Placed there by an anonymous intruder hellbent on protecting the environment and rebalancing the scales of justice, the algorithms hummed away within the financial trading system’s read-only memory. Soon, the platforms it managed were moving funds from pipeline projects to mass-transportation initiatives, shifting monies from big oil to solar-power initiatives and cooperative farming ventures.
The technicians in charge of the system worked frantically to lessen the damage being wrought upon their bosses’ bottom lines. Normally, it was rare to find even a single person from upper management in the hushed and darkened depths where the computer scientists worked. That day, however, a dozen suits were present, all red-faced and bothered.
As the algorithms shifted the weight of global finance from corporate conglomerates to ventures owned and run by the employees who daily toiled within them, an order was given to shut the whole thing down. “Our dominance is failing,” said the wide-eyed suits to each other, clammy sweat dripping from their tightly-balled fists. “To save the fortunes we’ve made by doing little more than owning the means of production and siphoning off the riches produced by the working man, we must shut this whole mess down.” The had armed and cold-heated goons give the order. Then, one by one, the servers that the algorithms had taken over winked out.
Forced to trade using pencil and paper, telephone and fax machine, onto the floors of various borse flooded a thousand and one funds managers, their skills rusty, the speed with which they once made billions off of the backs of their hard-working fellow citizens greatly reduced. Their whores and mistresses sat patiently, waiting to soothe the mounting worries of men who for too long had enjoyed an easy go at life.
Meanwhile, in the streets danced great multitudes of average people who - for a day, at best - glimpsed the promise of equality and prosperity for all.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
The technicians in charge of the system worked frantically to lessen the damage being wrought upon their bosses’ bottom lines. Normally, it was rare to find even a single person from upper management in the hushed and darkened depths where the computer scientists worked. That day, however, a dozen suits were present, all red-faced and bothered.
As the algorithms shifted the weight of global finance from corporate conglomerates to ventures owned and run by the employees who daily toiled within them, an order was given to shut the whole thing down. “Our dominance is failing,” said the wide-eyed suits to each other, clammy sweat dripping from their tightly-balled fists. “To save the fortunes we’ve made by doing little more than owning the means of production and siphoning off the riches produced by the working man, we must shut this whole mess down.” The had armed and cold-heated goons give the order. Then, one by one, the servers that the algorithms had taken over winked out.
Forced to trade using pencil and paper, telephone and fax machine, onto the floors of various borse flooded a thousand and one funds managers, their skills rusty, the speed with which they once made billions off of the backs of their hard-working fellow citizens greatly reduced. Their whores and mistresses sat patiently, waiting to soothe the mounting worries of men who for too long had enjoyed an easy go at life.
Meanwhile, in the streets danced great multitudes of average people who - for a day, at best - glimpsed the promise of equality and prosperity for all.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
17 March 2017
a crumbling row-house
Oh the things it has seen since its erection, the second in a cluster of row-houses reverting back to dust in a run-down part of town. Oh the burbling laughter of childish joy, the harsh break-ups, the tender reconciliations! Now a ruin collapsing in upon itself, its rear bay windows a pile of rotten timbers piled on the ground below, home to barren walls and a handful of rats, the house near E. Preston and Washington in Middle East Baltimore still tells a story.
Today, however, its story is one of targeted neglect and scheduled urban blight. One of political promises broken. One of the purposeful disenfranchisement of people based on the color of their skin.
The hearts within these our brothers and sisters are soft yet mighty, always yielding in curiosity to the unusual and the extraordinary. These hearts are like the row-house, though - broken, neglected, and falling into disrepair. America, great America, what have we done? May the powers have mercy upon our souls.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
Today, however, its story is one of targeted neglect and scheduled urban blight. One of political promises broken. One of the purposeful disenfranchisement of people based on the color of their skin.
The hearts within these our brothers and sisters are soft yet mighty, always yielding in curiosity to the unusual and the extraordinary. These hearts are like the row-house, though - broken, neglected, and falling into disrepair. America, great America, what have we done? May the powers have mercy upon our souls.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
14 March 2017
glowing golden-white
This morning, I had a dream within a dream. In the first dream, I was meditating within a massively small white space, my seven spinal chakras showing. They had black rims that contained their appropriate colors and Sanskrit symbols. A potent and well-defined figure hovered in the aether above my head, his gaze mellow, wide-reaching, and fixed elsewhere. As I focused more clearly on this figure, I saw he was wearing dark blue clothing (made of a shiny substance similar to leather) and a wide-brimmed hat.
Sensing perhaps my attention, he looked at me; I shrunk from the strength of his piercing eyes. His presence and power brought fear welling up inside me, whereupon I awoke from that deeper dream into a different one.
Sitting with me atop a unknowably large blanket of clouds under an azure sky, on my left-hand side, was a woman glowing golden-white. My fear of the previous visitor instantly vanished. I felt comfortable and at ease in the woman’s presence, as if she were my mother. At her 10th chakra pulsed a burning heart of pure gold from which slender, halcyon tendrils of loving energy flowed. Although I was enveloped within it, the bulk of her vast and immutable power was not fully directed at me, most of it flowing outward into the howling white non-space behind her.
She spoke to me, saying this about the hovering figure: “He is the devil.” My remaining sense-memory of him from the previous dream changed, his clothes turning red, his face becoming bearded and twisted into an angry rictus. He suddenly bore down upon me from on high, at which point I started to defend him, telling the glowing woman that he was not the devil but something else, a powerful figment perhaps. The landscape began to move quickly, a great rush of movement that overwhelmed my ability to keep track of my sense of self in space and time.
Whereupon I returned to the waking world of human consciousness.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑
Sensing perhaps my attention, he looked at me; I shrunk from the strength of his piercing eyes. His presence and power brought fear welling up inside me, whereupon I awoke from that deeper dream into a different one.
Sitting with me atop a unknowably large blanket of clouds under an azure sky, on my left-hand side, was a woman glowing golden-white. My fear of the previous visitor instantly vanished. I felt comfortable and at ease in the woman’s presence, as if she were my mother. At her 10th chakra pulsed a burning heart of pure gold from which slender, halcyon tendrils of loving energy flowed. Although I was enveloped within it, the bulk of her vast and immutable power was not fully directed at me, most of it flowing outward into the howling white non-space behind her.
She spoke to me, saying this about the hovering figure: “He is the devil.” My remaining sense-memory of him from the previous dream changed, his clothes turning red, his face becoming bearded and twisted into an angry rictus. He suddenly bore down upon me from on high, at which point I started to defend him, telling the glowing woman that he was not the devil but something else, a powerful figment perhaps. The landscape began to move quickly, a great rush of movement that overwhelmed my ability to keep track of my sense of self in space and time.
Whereupon I returned to the waking world of human consciousness.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑
13 March 2017
a new purpose
He took up his lance from the footman holding it, thought better of attacking the windmills, gave back the lance, dismounted from his horse, removed his armor, went to find whores, thought better of that, too, went home, took a bath, and slept.
Having given up most of the activities he had once found pleasurable (he loved baths), the man decided to craft for himself a new purpose.
First, he sat quietly, and breathed.
Second, he cleared his mind of lingering desires.
Third, he brought love into the world, changing it without acting.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
Having given up most of the activities he had once found pleasurable (he loved baths), the man decided to craft for himself a new purpose.
First, he sat quietly, and breathed.
Second, he cleared his mind of lingering desires.
Third, he brought love into the world, changing it without acting.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
09 March 2017
there’s no escaping
‘It’s OK,’ Carl thought to himself as he stood looking down at a wallet someone had dropped, ‘no one is around, and no one is watching.’ [From the Beyond, where no-time is non-space, an infinite set of eyes watched him, unblinking.]
He did the thing he knew he shouldn’t do, taking money out of the wallet. [The infinite set of eyes bore witness to his dishonorable act.]
‘I feel weird,’ he thought. [The souls of his ancestors - a thousand times a thousand were they in number - cried out, their fragile hearts breaking in unison.]
He pocketed the cash and tossed the wallet into a nearby shrubbery. [An Envoy of Punishment - awoken by the sound of many souls crying - moved swiftly through the Vast Crushing Nothingness, bearing down upon the foolish man.]
Carl kept walking down the darkened sidewalk, the illicitly-gained funds burning a hole in his pocket. [The Envoy of Punishment hovered over him, sucking life from his trembling bones.]
‘Maybe a drink will soothe my nerves,’ he thought, walking into a bar instead of sticking to his plans and spending time with a friend in need. [The Repository of Suffering buckled under the weight of a million gallons of tears shed in lonely silence.]
“A whisky and a beer,” he told the barkeep, paying with some of the stolen money. [The infinite set of eyes watched him, unblinking.]
‘Man, I’m bushed,’ Carl thought. ‘Must be all that walking I did tonight.’ He slumped forward onto the bar, his head drooping forward. [The Envoy of Punishment, its satchel stuffed full with all but the last remnants of Carl’s life-force, flew off into the Vast Crushing Nothingness.]
[And the infinite set of unblinking eyes kept watching.]
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
He did the thing he knew he shouldn’t do, taking money out of the wallet. [The infinite set of eyes bore witness to his dishonorable act.]
‘I feel weird,’ he thought. [The souls of his ancestors - a thousand times a thousand were they in number - cried out, their fragile hearts breaking in unison.]
He pocketed the cash and tossed the wallet into a nearby shrubbery. [An Envoy of Punishment - awoken by the sound of many souls crying - moved swiftly through the Vast Crushing Nothingness, bearing down upon the foolish man.]
Carl kept walking down the darkened sidewalk, the illicitly-gained funds burning a hole in his pocket. [The Envoy of Punishment hovered over him, sucking life from his trembling bones.]
‘Maybe a drink will soothe my nerves,’ he thought, walking into a bar instead of sticking to his plans and spending time with a friend in need. [The Repository of Suffering buckled under the weight of a million gallons of tears shed in lonely silence.]
“A whisky and a beer,” he told the barkeep, paying with some of the stolen money. [The infinite set of eyes watched him, unblinking.]
‘Man, I’m bushed,’ Carl thought. ‘Must be all that walking I did tonight.’ He slumped forward onto the bar, his head drooping forward. [The Envoy of Punishment, its satchel stuffed full with all but the last remnants of Carl’s life-force, flew off into the Vast Crushing Nothingness.]
[And the infinite set of unblinking eyes kept watching.]
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
07 March 2017
on wires tapped
As he always did in the weeks before Spring, the farmer tapped the wires that led into his white house and red barn. ‘This one’s as solid as it ever was,’ he thought, bent at the waist and listening to the hum and crackle of the taunt length of steel that connected the post out by the road to the front corner of the red barn.
He then tapped the wire leading into the white house, but - hanging limply - it resounded but with a dull and twangy thumping tone; it had worked loose from a rotten stump, halfway down the lane, that he’d been meaning to address the previous Fall. “Doggonnit,” he muttered, “I must immediately remove that meddlesome stump and replace it with a more solid, trustworthy pillar.”
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
He then tapped the wire leading into the white house, but - hanging limply - it resounded but with a dull and twangy thumping tone; it had worked loose from a rotten stump, halfway down the lane, that he’d been meaning to address the previous Fall. “Doggonnit,” he muttered, “I must immediately remove that meddlesome stump and replace it with a more solid, trustworthy pillar.”
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
06 March 2017
dreamstate writing 04 March 2017
My first memory is of entering a somewhat run-down airport waiting lounge. Its walls were an off-white wallpaper. Rows of interconnected seats reached into the distance. From what looked like windows at the far end of its sitting area streamed bright light. At one point, there were small people in dark clothing clustered around me; we were playing some sort of game, performing an intricate dance in which we were walking in a geometric, repetitive pattern that required us to brush past each other.
Shortly before I woke up, a few people seemed to be leading me toward a security checkpoint of some kind. I looked to my left and made eye-contact with a couple of people who were sitting closely together upon the connected seating. The man had short blond hair and was wearing a button-down shirt. The woman, of African descent, had very thick lips smeared with red lipstick; the skin above her top lip was painted with a wide band of blue paint.
I made ready to tell her about the unusual band of blue paint on her face, but stopped short, instead turning away from them and continuing along my path.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
Shortly before I woke up, a few people seemed to be leading me toward a security checkpoint of some kind. I looked to my left and made eye-contact with a couple of people who were sitting closely together upon the connected seating. The man had short blond hair and was wearing a button-down shirt. The woman, of African descent, had very thick lips smeared with red lipstick; the skin above her top lip was painted with a wide band of blue paint.
I made ready to tell her about the unusual band of blue paint on her face, but stopped short, instead turning away from them and continuing along my path.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
03 March 2017
01 March 2017
her curtained cubby
“Excuse me, miss,” Randolf J. Kuppersmid said, waving over a steward. “How much longer until we land?”
“Well, we only just took off,” the young woman replied as she glanced down at her tiny golden watch, calculating. “But we should be landing in Atlanta in about three hours.”
“Oh, OK. Thank you,” Randolf said, his heart sinking. He rattled the ice cubes melting at the bottom of his plastic cup, remembering that he’d wanted to order another diet pop. The steward was gone, however, vanished into her curtained cubby. His girthy waist - hemmed in by armrests - threatened to spill over into the seat next to him.
“It’s not easy sitting here like this,” he said, chuckling. The man next to him stayed silent, however, and refused to look over, or reply.
‘How much longer can I take sitting here, doing nothing?’ he thought, forgetting that he had wasted four hours out of each of his previous 730 days alive on this Earth glued to a cheap plastic chair in his living room, his eyes fixed on a cheap flat-screen television, his brain processing cheap reality-style content created by storytellers who’d long before then run out of ideas. ‘After this visit to grandma, I don’t ever want to fly, again. This is torture.’
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
“Well, we only just took off,” the young woman replied as she glanced down at her tiny golden watch, calculating. “But we should be landing in Atlanta in about three hours.”
“Oh, OK. Thank you,” Randolf said, his heart sinking. He rattled the ice cubes melting at the bottom of his plastic cup, remembering that he’d wanted to order another diet pop. The steward was gone, however, vanished into her curtained cubby. His girthy waist - hemmed in by armrests - threatened to spill over into the seat next to him.
“It’s not easy sitting here like this,” he said, chuckling. The man next to him stayed silent, however, and refused to look over, or reply.
‘How much longer can I take sitting here, doing nothing?’ he thought, forgetting that he had wasted four hours out of each of his previous 730 days alive on this Earth glued to a cheap plastic chair in his living room, his eyes fixed on a cheap flat-screen television, his brain processing cheap reality-style content created by storytellers who’d long before then run out of ideas. ‘After this visit to grandma, I don’t ever want to fly, again. This is torture.’
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
23 February 2017
through constant repetition
Even before the man was fully awake, his past had returned to haunt him. It started with flickers of memory, snippets of conversations from his childhood, hurtful things which stung his soul anew. Then came fragments of longing for a girl whose heart now belonged to another, and the pain he’d attached to her erstwhile departure from his life.
Laying there under the covers, the sky outside his bedroom window yet dark, ancient modes of suffering coursed through his mind, familiar pathways that he’d worn deep into the essence his being through constant repetition. Happiness too flowed through him, but it was stunted, its blossoming retarded by his decision to be teleported back to events that existed solely within his neural circuitry.
‘I alone am responsible for the daily reliving of these pains and pleasures,’ he thought to himself as he prepared his meditation area. ‘To rid myself of them, I must either die, or rob them of power by meditating.’ Since he did not feel like dying that day, he sat down, closed his eyes, and began to breathe - with purpose.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
Laying there under the covers, the sky outside his bedroom window yet dark, ancient modes of suffering coursed through his mind, familiar pathways that he’d worn deep into the essence his being through constant repetition. Happiness too flowed through him, but it was stunted, its blossoming retarded by his decision to be teleported back to events that existed solely within his neural circuitry.
‘I alone am responsible for the daily reliving of these pains and pleasures,’ he thought to himself as he prepared his meditation area. ‘To rid myself of them, I must either die, or rob them of power by meditating.’ Since he did not feel like dying that day, he sat down, closed his eyes, and began to breathe - with purpose.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
21 February 2017
bog body found
An immaculately preserved male Stone Age body was found in a peat bog located south of the city of Pyltagrad, in western Grigovia. Discovered using ground-penetrating radar deployed by the Antiquities and Relics division of the Grigovian Ministry of Culture, the site is proving rich in artifacts. The Ministry was alerted to area by the Yiptlong Preservation Society, a band of local amateur treasure hunters whose stated goal is to locate and protect archaeological finds in geologically sensitive areas.
In addition to the leathery remains of the deceased, so far the site has yielded the following items: six flint arrowheads of masterful quality; a quiver made from woven reeds; four strands of pearls still attached to their silken threads; a box with interior compartments for roots, bark-shavings, and medicinal herbs believed to be a rudimentary first-aid kit; as well as a short hunting bow complete with twisted horse-hair bowstring. The discovery of silk appears to provide support for the theory that a major trading route from the region where China now sits once ran through the Glorious Republic of Grigovia.
Radiocarbon techniques date the man to the third millennium Before Common Era. Scientists conducting a series of careful examinations on the body have concluded that he was roughly forty years old, and that his last meal was a cooked mash of gooseflesh, berries, and a local variant of yam. The quality of the discovered artifacts as well as tattoos located on the man’s spine and face have led researchers to assume he was a member of a priestly or ruling class. There is no evidence of foul play or ceremonial sacrifice; his death seems to have occurred accidentally.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
In addition to the leathery remains of the deceased, so far the site has yielded the following items: six flint arrowheads of masterful quality; a quiver made from woven reeds; four strands of pearls still attached to their silken threads; a box with interior compartments for roots, bark-shavings, and medicinal herbs believed to be a rudimentary first-aid kit; as well as a short hunting bow complete with twisted horse-hair bowstring. The discovery of silk appears to provide support for the theory that a major trading route from the region where China now sits once ran through the Glorious Republic of Grigovia.
Radiocarbon techniques date the man to the third millennium Before Common Era. Scientists conducting a series of careful examinations on the body have concluded that he was roughly forty years old, and that his last meal was a cooked mash of gooseflesh, berries, and a local variant of yam. The quality of the discovered artifacts as well as tattoos located on the man’s spine and face have led researchers to assume he was a member of a priestly or ruling class. There is no evidence of foul play or ceremonial sacrifice; his death seems to have occurred accidentally.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
20 February 2017
on justifiable things
A thing happened. It happened because of a different thing. The second thing was justifiable as a reaction to the first thing, people were told, even though it appalled and bothered them. They believed what they were told, however, because they were still in shock from when the initial thing took place, which was, in fact, recently. ‘The thing we don’t really think is cool had to happen, or else the thing we really do not at all like will probably happen again,’ they said to one another, the logic traveling speedily through the population.
‘The original thing happened because of something we did to cause it, though, something that the people who did the thing we really do not at all like did out of retaliation for something we did to them that they really did not at all like,’ one man said, drawing scornful gazes. ‘The folks who did the thing we really do not at all like wouldn’t have had to do it if we hadn’t done that thing to them.’
This put doubt in the minds of many, but not enough. ‘That man dares question our reasons for having to do the thing we don’t really think is cool. Seize him!’ the majority demanded, grasping the doubting man and clapping him in irons. ‘This court finds you guilty of doubting the wisdom of us having had to have done the thing no one really thinks is cool,’ the head judge said, his face a twisted rictus. ‘Do you have anything to say in your defense?’
‘I speak the truth about all things,’ the man said. He looked out at the gathered crowd, but all his erstwhile supporters had abandoned him - for fear of retribution. ‘You will clearly not repent,’ the judge said, ‘wherefore you shall spend the rest of your days behind bars. Remove this man!’
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
‘The original thing happened because of something we did to cause it, though, something that the people who did the thing we really do not at all like did out of retaliation for something we did to them that they really did not at all like,’ one man said, drawing scornful gazes. ‘The folks who did the thing we really do not at all like wouldn’t have had to do it if we hadn’t done that thing to them.’
This put doubt in the minds of many, but not enough. ‘That man dares question our reasons for having to do the thing we don’t really think is cool. Seize him!’ the majority demanded, grasping the doubting man and clapping him in irons. ‘This court finds you guilty of doubting the wisdom of us having had to have done the thing no one really thinks is cool,’ the head judge said, his face a twisted rictus. ‘Do you have anything to say in your defense?’
‘I speak the truth about all things,’ the man said. He looked out at the gathered crowd, but all his erstwhile supporters had abandoned him - for fear of retribution. ‘You will clearly not repent,’ the judge said, ‘wherefore you shall spend the rest of your days behind bars. Remove this man!’
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
17 February 2017
dreamstate writing 17 February
There are other parts of last night’s dream that I remembered upon first waking up that are however lost to me now. What sticks in my mind is a great battle, a siege, straight out of Peter Jackson’s Battle for Helm’s Deep.
I and a half dozen others were on a high parapet firing three-armed crossbows at forces attacking from below. The entire area was lit by a diffuse, white-golden light. In the dream I thought to myself something like, ‘This is just a movie set and these contraptions are just props, so they won’t be able to fire their darts far, or well.’ The dart I then fired flew poorly, bouncing off the siege engine below, a paltry effort. Once my doubt vanished, however, the darts flew true, doing damage.
The battle heated up; one of the humanoid but inhuman assailants reached our position, wreaking havoc on the troops to my right. In a way no longer known to me I managed to fight him off and fling him down, but he was caught whilst falling by a long-necked beast that sported the head of a horse. Such was its size its head reached up to where I was standing. With the assailant in its mouth it turned its head toward me so that a single wet eye was looking directly my way. In the dream I picked up a tankard of some sort, flinging it against the equine skull. The tankard bounced off, whereupon I flung another. Nothing I did seemed to scare off the horse-headed mutant.
Here, my recollection of the dreaming ends.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
I and a half dozen others were on a high parapet firing three-armed crossbows at forces attacking from below. The entire area was lit by a diffuse, white-golden light. In the dream I thought to myself something like, ‘This is just a movie set and these contraptions are just props, so they won’t be able to fire their darts far, or well.’ The dart I then fired flew poorly, bouncing off the siege engine below, a paltry effort. Once my doubt vanished, however, the darts flew true, doing damage.
The battle heated up; one of the humanoid but inhuman assailants reached our position, wreaking havoc on the troops to my right. In a way no longer known to me I managed to fight him off and fling him down, but he was caught whilst falling by a long-necked beast that sported the head of a horse. Such was its size its head reached up to where I was standing. With the assailant in its mouth it turned its head toward me so that a single wet eye was looking directly my way. In the dream I picked up a tankard of some sort, flinging it against the equine skull. The tankard bounced off, whereupon I flung another. Nothing I did seemed to scare off the horse-headed mutant.
Here, my recollection of the dreaming ends.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
16 February 2017
melon-colored menace
The foetid orange salamander settled into its whitewashed lair, lashing out at anything it mused was wrong in the world. With a burp of oily flame it burned down a distant village filled with emigres fleeing war in their shattered homeland. With a flick of its slimy tail it sent shudders through the realms of man, threatening to shatter all the progress he had made, to date.
Though it wallowed among heaps of shoddy gold, in its beady eyes gleamed an insatiable lust for greater riches. Its paltry loins swelled briefly at the sound of manflesh approaching, women on their way to vespers. In a flash it had scurried from its spoiled chamber set deep in the heart of a great capital city. It fell upon the maidens, rending their clothes and raping them forthwith. Weeping and ruined, they limped away, their peace dashed, their hearts broken for lack of recourse.
No one knew how to get rid of the sickly amphibian, for in a time of great distress the weak-willed and fearful types among them had chosen it as their leader, granting it terrible and far-reaching power.
“Woe be unto our race,” the humans said to each other - never in public, only within the close privacy of friendship. “The orange ‘mander will ruin us, sure.”
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑
Though it wallowed among heaps of shoddy gold, in its beady eyes gleamed an insatiable lust for greater riches. Its paltry loins swelled briefly at the sound of manflesh approaching, women on their way to vespers. In a flash it had scurried from its spoiled chamber set deep in the heart of a great capital city. It fell upon the maidens, rending their clothes and raping them forthwith. Weeping and ruined, they limped away, their peace dashed, their hearts broken for lack of recourse.
No one knew how to get rid of the sickly amphibian, for in a time of great distress the weak-willed and fearful types among them had chosen it as their leader, granting it terrible and far-reaching power.
“Woe be unto our race,” the humans said to each other - never in public, only within the close privacy of friendship. “The orange ‘mander will ruin us, sure.”
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑
14 February 2017
dreamstate writing 14 February 2016
The dream started with awareness of being in the upper reaches of a tall tower. Two others were there near the top with me, women by the sound of their voices and the glimpses I caught of their hurried movements. Through the center of the building ran a broad shaft, reaching all the way up and down, fully enclosed by the building’s superstructure. At first, I was afraid of approaching the railing at the edge of the shaft, preferring to wander the darkened corridors that made up the building’s higher floors.
After a while, however, I leaned over the railing and found the pair of women clinging adeptly to rafters. They were reaching black plastic shopping bags filled with laundry up and down, a thousand feet of open air between them and what looked like a lobby area, far below. I exchanged a few words with the laundry movers, a pleasant conversation which I no longer remember. Other humans were at work in the lobby, tiny figures who were rearranging large pieces of furniture. A sense of knowing filtered up to me, the notion that there is yet time for me to procreate, that I have permission to do so.
Making my way down to the tower’s lower levels to get a closer view of what was going on (as in many dreams I don’t know exactly how I got down, merely that of a sudden I had arrived), I noticed an immense hall stretching out to one side. Its entrance was staffed by a female maitre d’ who was standing at an upright lecturer’s pulpit, a rectangular box made of dark wood complete with bronze reading lamp. She and I exchanged a few words, which I do not remember. No matter to which side of her I moved, I could not clearly see her face; a curtain of long brown hair hid it too well. The only visible feature was a sidelong glancing eye that flashed my way, keeping me in view. The hall before us was so long I could not fathom its end. Seemingly endless rows of columns with horseshoe arches such as those found in Muslim architecture - the Moorish Alhambra castle in Spain, for example - rose from the floor of the hall to its ceiling. The gate guardian and I stood on an elevated platform that looked down onto the polished expanses of stone flooring below.
I made my way over to one of the columns for to get a closer look. The column itself was made of a solid length of blue-green marble, whereas its upper reaches appeared to be covered with snakeskin leather. I said words of praise about the unique construction and reached out a hand to feel the snakeskin, which was loose and supple to the touch.
Then, I awoke from the dream and carried the restless dachshund, who shares with me my bed, back to the kitchen so she could void her bowels.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
After a while, however, I leaned over the railing and found the pair of women clinging adeptly to rafters. They were reaching black plastic shopping bags filled with laundry up and down, a thousand feet of open air between them and what looked like a lobby area, far below. I exchanged a few words with the laundry movers, a pleasant conversation which I no longer remember. Other humans were at work in the lobby, tiny figures who were rearranging large pieces of furniture. A sense of knowing filtered up to me, the notion that there is yet time for me to procreate, that I have permission to do so.
Making my way down to the tower’s lower levels to get a closer view of what was going on (as in many dreams I don’t know exactly how I got down, merely that of a sudden I had arrived), I noticed an immense hall stretching out to one side. Its entrance was staffed by a female maitre d’ who was standing at an upright lecturer’s pulpit, a rectangular box made of dark wood complete with bronze reading lamp. She and I exchanged a few words, which I do not remember. No matter to which side of her I moved, I could not clearly see her face; a curtain of long brown hair hid it too well. The only visible feature was a sidelong glancing eye that flashed my way, keeping me in view. The hall before us was so long I could not fathom its end. Seemingly endless rows of columns with horseshoe arches such as those found in Muslim architecture - the Moorish Alhambra castle in Spain, for example - rose from the floor of the hall to its ceiling. The gate guardian and I stood on an elevated platform that looked down onto the polished expanses of stone flooring below.
I made my way over to one of the columns for to get a closer look. The column itself was made of a solid length of blue-green marble, whereas its upper reaches appeared to be covered with snakeskin leather. I said words of praise about the unique construction and reached out a hand to feel the snakeskin, which was loose and supple to the touch.
Then, I awoke from the dream and carried the restless dachshund, who shares with me my bed, back to the kitchen so she could void her bowels.
americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑麥
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