Mother Horse Eyes: Part 1

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:02):
What's up, guys. We're doing a little something different here.
This is a story called Mother Horse Eze. I heard
it on a creepcast with Wendagoon and Meat Canyon. This
is like the entire dramatic reading. I cut it into
two segments, so check it out, enjoy it. Maybe me
and david'll cover as soon. I don't know, we'll see,
but yeah, it's a long one.

Speaker 2 (00:23):
Buckle up.

Speaker 3 (00:28):
In the mk Ultra experiments, the CIA dosed unwitting subjects
with LSD to see how they would react. What has
not yet come to light is that MK Ultra was
an intra agency project. The CIA created new departments within
the CIA and fed them steady doses of LSD and
other psychoactives to see how the departments would diverge and

(00:49):
mutate away from normal departments. Whole projects and hierarchies were created,
with everybody involved being more or less unwittingly under the
influences of it. This is how the restraint bed portals
and flesh interfaces were created, i e. From a heavy
psycho mutated hierarchy. The entire thing had to be eliminated,

(01:12):
but the technology it created has been revolutionary in Vietnam,
the US government tried to pacify the country village by
village using the Strategic Hamlet Project, basically creating villages where
there was no or little Viet Kung influence. They tried
more extreme experiments where they completely isolated villages or groups

(01:33):
of villages, allowing absolutely nobody to enter or exit for
periods of up to four years. In some of the villages,
people simply starved to death. In other more self sufficient villages,
the people managed to scrape by who was noted that
in many of the villages where this technique was tried,
Messianic or millenarian movements sprang up and sixteen separate incidences,

(01:59):
the villages were able to independently invent flesh interfaces and
non electrical portals, and it was surmised that these villages
were being collectively dosed with LSD for long periods of time,
and their intellectual mutations allowed for these advances. The flesh
interfaces were eventually destroyed by the North Vietnamese Army at

(02:20):
a terrible.

Speaker 2 (02:21):
Cost in life.

Speaker 3 (02:23):
I'm surprised they used nuclear subs in the Falklands, considering
the battle's proximity to the undersea incident zone surrounding the
so called Artigas Portal. As I understand it, the portal
was opened because of experiments taking place in the CIA's
Antarctic station in the early eighties, and Falklands quickly became
a center for portal research. Being underwater, the portal had

(02:46):
an enormous incident zone, and segmented whales and other undersea
debris would regularly wash up on the island's shores. They
found one whale that had been segmented cleanly in half
by an incidents zone disturbance, proving a perfect cross section
of the creature. They also found hundreds of the kiteness
cruciform creatures, certainly non terrestrial in origin. Anyways, if a

(03:12):
nuclear sub had wandered into the incident zone, it would
have been disastrous, but I guess they considered the risk acceptable.
The Soviets designed large portions of the Ukraine's countryside as
harvest populations. Basically, their food and water supplies were dosed
with LSD until they had achieved what the Soviets called integration.

(03:35):
This meant that the local populations had independently invented flesh interfaces.
The Soviet Army would then quarantine the area and try
to remove the flesh interfaces for their own use. This
was usually without success and with great loss of life.
Many of the soldiers and scientists were segmented, as often
happens in an incidents zone, so they ended up with

(03:58):
people missing limbs, cut in hand, etc. What's interesting is
that the people could live for quite some time despite segmentation.
This is what led the Soviets to believe that their
missing body parts still existed, albeit in some unknown place.
So one of the leading theories of the time was interdimensionality,

(04:20):
quite mistaken. Dubai probably has the highest rate of free
floating non interface incidents of any major metropolitan area in
the world. In one incident, a large group of migrant
workers was segmented in an underground facility, perfect cross sectional
segmentation along the frontal plane. You could see their lungs working,

(04:44):
food being digested, blood pumping on the inside of the heart, everything.
They live for almost five months in this condition, absolutely
fascinating to see in person. There is also a group
of school children who were very slightly segmented, just ends
of fingers and bits of the calves and such hardly

(05:05):
fatal wounds, yet they all died within two months, some
showed signs of intellectual mutation. There are no known flesh
interfaces in Dubai. However, it is surmised that the architecture
is actually based on interface geometry and carry some latent
interface like power. Mass segmentations remain one of the most

(05:27):
mysterious aspects of the interfaces. They seem to show that
the interface do indeed concentrate on flesh, living up to
their name. We look at Elizabeth Bathory as an example
of pre LSD enlightenment. Aye, somebody seeming to attempt to
build a flesh interface before the invention of LSD. How

(05:49):
can this be explained? Perhaps she ingested some aer god
or some other naturally occurring psychotropic chemical, or perhaps her
mind was simple tuned to whatever intellectual processes need to
occur to invent a flesh interface. The Book of Revelations
is also considered to be a description of a flesh interface,

(06:10):
especially the description of New Jerusalem. My problem with this
is that it's all speculative. It's like when modern psychologists
diagnose historical figures. I'm uncomfortable with this level of speculation.
I will always regard the first instance of a flesh
interface to have occurred in Triblecna nineteen forty four. The

(06:33):
geologic disturbances partial tunnels, so called interdimensionality, and wealth of
clearly segmented bodies leave no doubt of its existence. The
Soviets have documented this. Basically, when you look at the
stories of Elizabeth Bathry's behavior, it seems like she is
trying to build a flesh interface. But it is known

(06:55):
that in order to invent a flesh interface, one must
be under the influence of LSD for sis extended periods.
As LSD hadn't been invented during her life, it probably
is just a coincidence. Still a tantalizing theory, though obviously
I can't define a flesh interface in terms of purpose
or composition or mechanism. I can only list the various

(07:18):
phenomena which are related to them. Chief among these is
the creation of an incident zone, wherein the objects are
spontaneously segmented i e. Parts of the objects simply disappear,
yet the objects continue to behave as if the missing
parts are still present. Also, you see complex tunnels created

(07:38):
in the earth. These have been termed and farms. In
undersea interfaces you get kiteness cruciform organisms. These sewy generous
organisms are thought to be the result on evolutionary processes
which took place in an environment other than Earth. This
is speculation, but in this case I agree with it.

(08:01):
Then there have been the giant metallic cylinders which appear
and experience continuous spontaneous segmentation. These are usually at least
ten meters in diameter and get much larger and only
occur in very large interfaces i e.

Speaker 2 (08:16):
Portals.

Speaker 3 (08:18):
Beyond this, the phenomena are too various to mention and
different for each interface. Many people think that a portal
is simply a large flesh interface. This is true, a
portal is a large flesh interface, but it is also
more than that. A portal is, as the name implies,

(08:38):
a way of sending objects between the portal's site and
wherever the various locations that have been found beyond the
portals are located i e. The so called alien sisters cities.
Portals are usually, but not always, accompanied by the large
fluctuating metallic cylinders. The largest above water portal that I
know of occurred in Novaa Zemla and existed for several

(09:01):
weeks before it was destroyed by the Russians so called
czar Bomba. In this case, the metallic cylinders were miles
high and covered with features rarely seen on other cylinders,
blinking lights, nodules so called antennae. They took on a
very artificial appearance, i e. They seemed to be constructed

(09:22):
technology rather than naturally occurring phenomena. Are the cylinders themselves
artifacts being sent through the portals, or are they phenomena
created by the flesh interfaces in the way a mushroom
cloud is created by.

Speaker 2 (09:35):
A nuclear explosion. This is unclear.

Speaker 3 (09:39):
I wish I could show you, guys the pictures of
the Novaya Zembla cylinders. They truly were beautiful, rising miles
into the clear Arctic sky, like great alien towers, tinged
blue by the vastness of the distance involved. Though it
was certainly necessary to destroy them, and we owe the
Soviets a great dead their tireless efforts to collapse the interface.

(10:04):
I sometimes wish they were still there, at least then
there'd be something, some evidence. In response to what the
CIA had accomplished with their Antarctic station in Artigus, the
Soviets built a larger station in Novaya Zembla in the Arctic.
Thirty thousand prisoners and an exceptionally pure gas concentration created

(10:27):
a flesh interface which went through all seven stages in
less than thirteen minutes and became a full fledged portal
within a day. The typical fluctuating metallic cylinders were visible.
Within three days, they were extending miles into the sky.
The Soviets quickly realized that the portal was growing out
of control. In previous instances, they had simply bombed the

(10:51):
site from the air, but in this case the enormous
cylinders an attendant incident zone extending into the edge of
space prevented this. As well as missile strikes, there was
also an exceptionally large lateral incident zone around the portal,
with segmentation occurring miles out from the site. Alarmed by

(11:12):
the zone's uncontrolled growth in the growing underground tunnels, aka
and farms, the Soviets worked feverishly to construct a hydrogen
bomb of unprecedented power, which could be detonated from outside
the incidents zone and still collapsed the portal. The steady
rate of growth in the incident zone provided them with

(11:32):
an exact deadline, which they managed to meet with only
two hours to spare any later, and the bomb could
not have been placed so as to collapse the interface.
In short, the world came within two hours being subjected
to an uncontrolled flesh interface, and perhaps the end of
civilization as we know it. Before the portal was collapsed, however,

(11:55):
the Soviets gained first hand knowledge of one of the
so called sister cities. In other words, somebody had gone
into the portal and come back. I've always found Lisa's

(12:18):
dreams to be a good starting place when trying to
understand the psychological effects of travel. Lisa was a nine
year old girl sent through the Groom Lake Interface in
nineteen seventy five. The Groom Lake Interface connects the so
called sister city technically persistent locusts known as the Hanging Temples.

(12:38):
She stayed there for five days of normal time, but
only forty eight seconds of beyond time, a marked discrepancy.
Upon returning, she did not recall anything beyond becoming drowsy
for a moment. She slept well that night, and in
the morning she recounted a dream to the doctor's before
dying later in the day. A direct transcript of the

(13:02):
audio from her interview. It was spring and it had
been raining all day, but the rain stopped just before
it was going to be sunset, so all the clouds
were purply, and the sky was really orange, and the
grass was all wet with rain, and there were fireflies
all around, like all in the sky, way up in

(13:23):
the sky, big ones. And me and my grandma went
out to these hills, way out past the edge of town,
and under the hills there were people sleeping, not in caves,
they were buried under the hills. The people were asleep,
but they were hugging each other, families like moms and

(13:44):
dads and little kids. Just it would be easy to
say the Soviets discovered the secrets of survivable travel because
they were more ruthless, more willing to sacrifice innocent lives,
But there was really no lack of ruthlessness on the
part of the CIA. Is really just a matter of approach.

(14:05):
The Soviets approached the mystery of the flesh interfaces the
same way they approached their space program. The first humans
in space, the so called lost cosmonauts, who were never
officially acknowledged, were just ordinary people, cold from the gulags,
with no more control over their mission Thanlika the Dog.

(14:25):
The Americans, on the other hand, started with professional men,
usually from the military. Likewise, when it was discovered in
objects and even animals which entered the flesh interfaces occasionally
returned unharmed, the Americans began training men to enter the interfaces.
Because they called their men from certain military ranks, they

(14:47):
were all of similar ages. The Soviets, however, used prisoners
who had a much wider age range, and so they
were able to discover the essential correlation. The younger the
person was, the more likely they were to survive travel,
the longer they would survive after travel. They discovered that

(15:07):
twenty somethings were much more likely to survive, albeit in
a horribly altered state, than older people. They discovered that
people in their early twenties fared better than those in
their late twenties. Teenagers fared even better. So despite all
moral compunction, it was really all a matter of time

(15:29):
before they sent a child, and it was only after
the first round of children went through that they gained
any idea of what was on the other side. Until
we found the village, we had suspected that the detectors
were just props, just toys given to us by the
CIA ICE to reassure us. Nobody trusted the spooks. Three

(15:52):
days through the jungle and these detectors had not detected
a fucking thing. But before we even saw the first hut,
the needles on the detectors started moving in unison. If
they were phony toys, it was a cool, little special effect.
The needle swayed back and forth, and all the little
metal boxes let out this spooky sound, all in unison,

(16:16):
like a school choir.

Speaker 2 (16:18):
Very weird.

Speaker 3 (16:19):
We turned them off as instructed. We treated every Vietnamese
as combatants and killed them all. There wasn't any resistance,
though a few had weapons, but most were unarmed. None
fought back. They didn't even run. They were just sitting

(16:40):
around lazing in the sun, and we shot them where
we found them. Grim work and very weird. That probably
spooked us out more than the detectors. It was like
they were waiting to die. After clearing the village, we

(17:02):
didn't know what to do, so we turned on one
of the detectors and wandered around to see what was up.
The detector started going nuts all around one of the
bigger huts in the middle of the village. We had
already cleared it, but we went in again. There was
a big altar inside with candles and Buddhas and gold signs,

(17:24):
with dink riding and shit. We figured that maybe one
of the Buddhist statues was setting the detectors off, but no,
the hut was very hot and muggy. Even by the
incredibly humid standards of Vietnam, it was incredibly incredibly humid
in there. Even the Buddhist statues were sweating. Their faces

(17:48):
were literally coated with drops of moisture. Everybody noticed that
there was something weird going with the air. There's something
off about the pressure. So we just tossed everything, picked
all the shit up, and tossed it out the hut.
Sure enough, we picked up the big platform that held

(18:09):
the altar. There was something under it. It was a
pit made of flesh, maybe five feet across and going
down about twenty feet before curving out of sight. When
I say made of flesh, I mean it looked like
the inside of somebody's throat, wet, reddish, flesh looking stuff.

(18:31):
We had heard of them building tunnels, but this was
We really couldn't even understand what we were looking at.
I was just breathing. A flesh kind of rippled, and
this hot air came out, and it felt and smelled
like somebody breathing right on your face, enough to make

(18:53):
you sick. They told us we would know it when
we saw it. Well, we saw it, and we knowed it.
We radioed in the coordinates and got the fuck out
of there. Encasement was certainly not something we were expecting.

(19:15):
It really changed our whole perspective on what exactly was occurring.
We thought that the flesh interfaces were just like pipes
that went from one location to another, perhaps extra dimensionally
or by some other magic. But when the first subject
came back in Case, we realized that, well, I'm not

(19:37):
sure what we realized. We realized for the thousandth time
in our dealings with the flesh interfaces that we were
dealing with something really beyond us. That's why I called
it magic. They were so far beyond our understanding. It
was basically like meddling with some kind of black magic.

(20:00):
The first subject to come back in Case was an
eight year old girl we had named Jingles. We started
naming the kids dog names to try to depersonalize them.

Speaker 2 (20:10):
To assuage the guilt.

Speaker 3 (20:12):
This was done by the recommendation of the CIA psychiatrist,
but it didn't work very well. We all still felt
like shit. But what choice did we have. Could we
just ignore the flesh in our faces and not study them? Perhaps,
but you must realize that the Soviets were also studying them.

Speaker 2 (20:35):
That changed the whole equation.

Speaker 3 (20:38):
If they Well, the ethical issues have been debated to death.
What's done is done. We dropped the bomb on Hiroshima,
we gave those blankets to the Indians, We sent those
kids to those portals. Now it's all just a part
of history.

Speaker 2 (20:59):
Anyway.

Speaker 3 (21:01):
We sent Jingles into the flesh in her face, and
an object returned two minutes later, which is a pretty
long time for an interface. It was a large organic
sack lined with veins, vaguely resembling a human lung, about
four feet long. We x rayed and saw the skeleton
inside and cut it open. Sure enough, Jingles was inside,

(21:26):
naked and covered with blood, but no hair on her head.
There was an embellical cord attached to her belly button,
which was attached to us some sort of placenta. We
had a problem with the surgeons trying to harm her
It was later realized that her blood its blood. The
blood from the sack had high concentrations of an exotic

(21:49):
LSD analog. It was getting absorbed through the skin. The
placenta was like an LSD factory, pumping out millions of doses.
This particular blend made people pretty violent, so we had
to put on containment suits. Jingle's skin was flawless, like newborns,

(22:11):
no wrinkles on the back of her neck, no wrinkles
on her palms except the major ones. She had the
form of an eight year old girl, but seemed a
lot newer. We did MRIs on her bone plates and
found that they were highly underdeveloped, as if she was
a newborn. We wondered, is this really jingles or some

(22:34):
kind of clone, What sort of apparatus could have possibly
produced this clone, and why? After a day of observation
she awoke. We weren't sure if her mind was still there.
Perhaps she had been wiped clean, so we waited asking
her questions. At first, her behavior was like that of

(22:57):
an infant, just smiling and gurgling, clasping her hands. It
was pretty eerie seeing that kind of behavior from an
eight year old girl. Really, it was pretty eerie looking
at her at all. Her skin was so pure and glowing.
She looked like an absolute angel. I we well. Anyways,

(23:24):
after a while, she started babbling, saying little phrases. In
a matter of hours, she seemed to progress through the
various stages of development, her scentse structure, and awareness, becoming
more and more sophisticated. As soon as she could understand sentences,
we started questioning her again. Who was she? She said
her name, She knew her past. This wasn't just a

(23:47):
blank clone. This may or may not have been the
original girl, but she seemed to have the same mind
as the original. So then we asked her the question
that we wanted to know, the question that had plagued
us for years, the question that had led us, in
the face of all humanity and morality, to send a

(24:08):
child into a living apparatus of death. What did you see?
What's on the other side? Her expression grew thoughtful. She
was such a thoughtful, bright girl. We chose her for
her intelligence, so young and bright, and we just threw her. Anyways,

(24:35):
she thought about the question, and its seemed then that
we would finally get an answer, a real answer. I
remember the sense of anticipation in the room. It was
like nothing I've ever felt before or since. Remember I
quit the program that day. I was never able to
question another subject anyways, she said to us side the chamber,

(25:01):
I started to feel drowsy. Then everything changed, and I
knew what I saw. I had seen it before. I
said to myself, this is like the room in Grammy's house,
the quiet room. We asked her what she meant by this.

(25:25):
She replied with these words, her final words before she
simply stopped living and sat there dead, with her eyes
still on us. She said, come into these yellow sands.

(25:46):
In explaining our cruelty, which I admit was quite beyond
the scope of all humanity, I feel I must remind
you of how we lost the war. We lost the
war in the cruelest way. Island after island fell, and
the enemy drew closer and closer, more and more bombs

(26:09):
fell on our cities. Food grew more and more scarce,
people starved, house burned, people burn children burned. We were
punished by our own sense of dignity, by your own
inability to admit inevitable and total defeat. It was like
watching a sword slowly being sunk into your chest, millimeter

(26:32):
by millimeter, but you refuse to cry out, refuse to
whimper or beg for mercy, and there is nothing you
can do but watch the metal disappear into your weeping flesh.
By the end of nineteen forty four, it was clear
that both Japan and Germany were doomed barring some divine intervention.

(26:58):
Yet the stories we knew from childchildhood told us that
we had been saved by divine intervention before, when the
fleets of Kublai Khan were at our shores, moving from
island to island, conquering and raping, until a miraculous typhoon
sent their ships to the bottom of the ocean. Though

(27:18):
we were modern men and trained in Western science, we
still believed that there was some sacred destiny in store
for the Japanese people, and we kept an eye out
for something anything which hinted of the divine. Two intriguing
pieces of news had come to us via Germany, develops

(27:41):
which suggested that perhaps the tide of war could turn suddenly. However,
both were ominous. One was that America was developing a
super weapon, a bomb which could level entire cities, which
used the latent power of the atom, unleashing the very
forces which held existence together. We assured ourselves that this

(28:06):
was American propaganda, that no such weapon actually existed, but
our scientists acknowledged that it was theoretically possible. The second
piece of the news was more puzzling. It was said
that a Swiss scientist had synthesized a chemical which, like
the American nuclear technology, could unleash latent forces, this time

(28:32):
the forces of the mind. This chemical was said to
fuse the various disparate areas of the mind and allow
for incredible insights. Apparently, teams working under the influence of
this chemical for long periods of time were capable of
inventing techniques and devices previously unheard of. By the end

(28:52):
of nineteen forty four, various high ranking Germans were slipping
out of Germany like rats from a sinking ship, often
trying to fund their escapes by selling various pieces of artwork, technology, intelligence,
et cetera. It was from one of these that we
obtained an enormous supply of this wonder chemical LSD, which

(29:15):
was supposed to be secret even from Germany's allies. Along
with a chemical, we were given a piece of news,
which was positively tantalizing given the position we were in.
According to our contact, experiments with LSD had been conducted
at the Treblinka extermination camp. A group of prisoners was
given the drugs for a period of several months, and

(29:38):
the results were so impressive that somehow the prisoners were
able to convince the camp leaders to take the drug
as well. Soon the entire camp hierarchy was taking the
drug and working together on a new device that was
some sort of destructive radar which could bring down planes
as easily as ordinary radar found them. It was said

(29:59):
to be powerful enough to slice bombers right in half.
Of course, we found this news hard to believe. Nazi
death came commanders working side by side with Jewish prisoners
to invent a magical radar.

Speaker 2 (30:15):
It was utterly fantastical.

Speaker 3 (30:18):
Our good sense told us to ignore it, and yet
how could we? The Americans had already taken back the Philippines.
Soon they would take Iowa, Jima, and then Okinawa and
all the Home islands. We were facing the end of
the Japanese as a free race, perhaps the end of

(30:41):
all Japanese existence. The Germans would have it easy compared
to US. Many Americans were German in origin, there was
a blood affinity between the two countries. This did not
exist for us. The Americans would burn our cities, rape
our women, and enslave us, make us servants like their nagero.

(31:09):
We would be bred with the whites until we had
become some degenerate half caste. Japanese culture would crumble, the
stories of our childhoods would be forgotten. We were watching
a sword disappear into our hearts, and we were desperate
for some kind of divine intervention. So in late nineteen

(31:31):
forty four, a glass jar of alice d crystals, enough
for several million doses, was taken aboard a submarine and
slipped under the cover of the sea back to the
Home islands. We were looking for divine grace.

Speaker 2 (31:50):
What we found.

Speaker 3 (31:53):
Was a hell beyond our darkest dreams of destruction. Hello friends,
thank you for your interest in my post. I wanted
to apologize to the community at large for posting them
to threads whose relationship to their content is at best tangential.

(32:13):
I simply had nowhere else to post my information where
anybody would read it. Previously, I was operating a website
wherein my information laid out in a rather straightforward manner.
I was quite convinced that the undeniable truth of this
information would attract attention on its own accord. I was
quite sure that somehow this grand truth would shine out

(32:36):
as a beacon and resonate with receptive people and quickly
become widespread. As I recall, my best month brought about
four hundred visitors and a total of four non spam comments.
Seventy five percent of these recommended psychiatric intervention. So here
we find ourselves. I am attempting to use the techniques

(32:57):
of fiction and suspense to hopefully generate in trust in
this information. Your subreddit furthers the same, and I sincerely
thank you for creating it. I should clarify that this
information is not fiction, nor is it true. It is
a mix of things which happened and things which almost happened,

(33:18):
things which were in, things which could have been. You
must understand that the present moment in which we exist
is simply a nexus from which trillions of possible past
impossible futures branch out. The important thing to realize is
that these unreal past and unrealized futures are related to
each other. By examining what might have been, we can

(33:41):
come to understand what might come to be. I am
writing about what has never been and what must never be. Unfortunately,
our generation has been given a special burden. We are doomed,
as the apocryphal Chinese curse has it to live in
interesting times. Soon, technological advances in the field of information

(34:07):
technology and bioengineering will fundamentally reshape human existence. There are
a number of possible outcomes, and I believe that most
of them will result in the human race entering unending
air of absolute slavery as a free species. We have
seen totalitarianism before, we have destroyed it.

Speaker 2 (34:29):
But when it.

Speaker 3 (34:29):
Arises again, aided by advanced information in biological technology, it
will have a new and unprecedented ability to envelop the
entire Earth and place humanity in an unalterable state of
total mental and physical slavery that will last for uncounted
millennia till the Earth becomes uninhabitable. Not only do I

(34:54):
believe that this outcome is possible, I believe that it
is overwhelmingly likely. Out of all the trillions of possible
futures arrayed before us ninety nine point nine nine nine
nine percent of them result in this outcome. As Christ said,
wide is the gate, and broad is the road that

(35:15):
leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But narrow
is the gate, and narrow the road that leads to life,
and only a few find it. We must find and
enter the narrow gate, but it will not be easy.

(35:35):
In order to find it, we must sort through the
many possible paths to find the few possible futures which
result in a humanity free to live and die as
humans and not as an unholy agglomeration of mindless flesh. Unfortunately,
as we fight against the forces of slavery and death,

(35:56):
it will be precisely our instincts towards the preservation of
freedom in life that will lead us to destruction and short.
We live in precarious times. I want to make clear
that while this post shows clear and appalling signs of meglomania,
I am actually aware that I am not a prophet

(36:18):
or an expert. I am a thirty something American male
without the benefit of a college education or stable job. Sadly,
I have spent most of my life drunk. My post
will contain a number of historical errors, both intentional and
unintentional as well as bad spelling, bad grammar, and laughably

(36:39):
over wrought prose Readers with a proper education will easily
see through my attempts erudition. In short, I have no
proper formal qualifications for the task I have set out
for myself. When I have personally experienced the intellectual mutations
of which I write. Through repeated self experienceation, I have

(37:01):
fractured the time state of my brain, and now it
exists in an ever shifting state between various past which
didn't happen. As such, I have been given what I
believe is a special insight into our possible futures. They
are dark. The shadows of the past atrocities pass and
overlap with the shadows of future atrocities. Time is short.

(37:28):
Recently I have been beset with the persistent creativity that
seems to grow stronger as to days go by. I
fear this state is unsustainable. Perhaps eventually this productive mania
will turn into an unproductive psychosis, and soon, on a
larger scale, mankind's productivity will turn into its own sort

(37:49):
of psychosis. Billions of years ago, the so called primordial
soup arranged itself into a self replicating form which multiplied
and flourished and divaricated into countless species. From our vantage
point in the present, this singular moment of origin has
become lost in the mists of time. Equally obscure to

(38:13):
us is the future singularity towards which we are heading,
the end point which all the countless species are once
again reintegrated and to a new and singular form, a
new abomination. We are on the verge all of us.

(38:33):
Times are dire. We are about to be gathered again
into the arms of the Mother to become one flesh
with her, the mother who gathers lost children, the mother
I have seen in dark spaces since I was a
little child, back when I called her the Mother with

(38:55):
horse eyes. We are about to meet her again. We
are about to be unborn. When you're hanging out with
the tribe of Nazi acid heads, magical space pussy doesn't
even register on the weirdo meter. I mean, they talk

(39:17):
about so much weird shit, and so much of it
was total bullshit that I didn't pay any fucking attention
to it. It was the sixties. Talking about magical space
pussies was like asking somebody how their day went. It
was just conversation to me, but to them it wasn't.

(39:38):
That was a strange time in my life. I had
spent the last six months going from commune to commune
just checking them out.

Speaker 2 (39:47):
They were all bullshit.

Speaker 3 (39:50):
Every one of them was just some guy on a
power trip and a bunch of women who had grown
up with bad fathers, hanging on his every word, hoping
he would solve all their problems. That's the only way
the commune system worked. The guy got control of the women,
and the women attracted a few guys to the manual labor.
But in the end it was basically just a new

(40:12):
system of pimping. I mean, I'm from Brooklyn, I've seen pimping.
These chicks had tried to escape society and just gotten
themselves pimped out. It was tragic, but not too tragic
for me to give a shit about it. So I
went out to Death Valley. Why did I go there?

(40:36):
Why does anybody? Because it has a cool name. If
it was called some Scorpions and a bunch of fucking rocks,
which is what it actually is, nobody would go. I
had decided I was done with counterculture. I was done
with the regular culture. I was done with it all.

(40:57):
I would go where no one would bother me and
just try to figure myself out, get a little piecing quiet.
A month later, the Mason family moved in next door.
For a while, was just a nice little guy named
Paul and some girls living a few miles from my
little shack. Seemed harmless. Then the whole family came in

(41:19):
Charley too. They had already committed the murders. At this point.
It was big news, but nobody knew who did it.
I surely didn't connect it to the band of weirdos
next door. They seemed too stupid to pull off anything newsworthy,
just another bullshit commune. Once Charley got there, the family

(41:40):
seemed to spend most of their time driving their dune
buggies around pretending to be the fucking Africa Corps. I mean,
Charley would put a helmet on with the swastika and
lead them in maneuvers. I had never met a racist
Nazi hippie before. There was the first time for everything.
Some of them even talked about Uncle Adolf and how

(42:01):
he knew the score, how he should have won the war.
I was a mechanic in the army, so I helped
him out with the buggies and got to know them
a little. Slowly, their little philosophy trickled down on to me.
They thought America was on the verge of an apocalyptic
race war, blacks on white, helter skelter, the Watts riot

(42:22):
in every city. That part actually seemed pretty plausible. I mean,
you have to understand, in nineteen sixty nine, the country
had been getting weirder and weirder, more and more violent
every year. Nobody was quite sure when it would end.
Nobody knew that in the seventies the counterculture would just
kind of peter into a bunch of fucking James Taylor albums.

(42:46):
They said that they had come to the desert to
find a hideout so they would be safe while the
helter skelter brace war was going on. They said that
somewhere out in the desert there was a bottomless pit
full of wonders and treasures. In the Bible, revelation speaks
of the tree of Life, which bears twelve kinds of fruit,
one for every month. They said this tree was growing

(43:09):
inside the bottomless pit and would give them all the
food they wanted while they.

Speaker 2 (43:13):
Waited out the war.

Speaker 3 (43:15):
When it was over, They said they would emerge and
Charlie would rule the world as the new Christ, So
that part was a little less plausible. And then I
started hearing about the magical space Vagina. I had become
friends with Paul, who was actually a nice guy who
just wanted to fuck the girls and get stoned and
didn't really get into the whole Nazi thing. He said

(43:38):
that they were searching for the entrance to the bottomless pit.
He said that entrance would be made of flesh growing
out of the rocks, like a giant pussy, so big
you could stroll right in. I told him he thought
about pussy way too much, but he was serious. He
said that the technology to turn rocks into flesh from

(44:00):
outer space and its secrets had been taught to Charley
by Uncle Adolph. Until then, I thought that Uncle Adolph
was their name for Hitler. Slowly I learned more. I
started to realize that they were talking about somebody who
was still alive, somebody they actually knew. They told me

(44:22):
he was coming soon. This kind of psychological mirroring was
exploited in the design of the flesh interfaces. When a
human body is embedded in an interface, the independent I e.
Non human interface glance produce massive amounts of LSD which
cause intellectual mutations i e. Time fracturing along several dozen axes. Meanwhile,

(44:48):
independent hormone regulators produce an emotional oscillation between two states,
euphoria and terror. Thus we have the typical sound of
an interface alter waves of giggling and screaming that moved
through the interface population running along the length of the interface.
As the hormones travel along the independent conduits, these successive

(45:11):
waves of giggling and screaming create a steady rhythm that
washes over the traveler as they moved through the interface.
Neutral empathetic responses mirroring prepare the traveler's body for the
process of embrace. When I was little, they took Mommy

(45:32):
away put me with new Mommy in a smelly, dark house.
They said she was a real person, but I knew
she wasn't. They had made her. Her face was made
from pieces of animal pig cheeks, hairy goat jaw, old
horse eyes. They sewed her together badly, and the seams

(45:53):
are crusty.

Speaker 2 (45:56):
I hated her.

Speaker 3 (45:58):
Real mommy called me from underground. I opened the attic
window at sundown and let the spring breeze flow in.
I heard her song floating on the cool air, soft
singing from the grave. Watching the flesh in her face
process known as embrace is kind of like watching those

(46:20):
Japanese subway groping videos. That was honestly the first thing
I thought of when I watched it, But of course
I wasn't going to put that in the official report.
You ever seen those videos, Oh, you wouldn't admit it
if you had, right, it's a whole genre over there.
Not the most progressive stuff in terms of gender equality,

(46:41):
but compelling nonetheless. The video starts with a woman standing
in the subway minding her own business. When some guy
starts feeling her up. She protests demeanorly and attempts to
deflect his roaming hands. He persists other men on the subway,
perhaps her weakness joined in the groping. A sort of

(47:04):
group madness takes over the subway occupants. The men are
transformed from ordinary travelers into agglomerated masses of arms and
hands and fingers grabbing every part of the woman's body.
The woman's attempts at protecting her personal space are always
absurdly ineffectual, and soon she is divested of her clothing.

(47:26):
Depending on the video subgenre, a variety of acts ensues,
most of which surely violate local transportation statues. Embrace is
kind of like that that combined with a school of
piranhas stripping a live cow of its flesh. Lying in

(48:03):
the hold, listening to the bombardment, there is no sleep.
Booming of the guns traveled through the shivering metal of
the ship, hour after hour without end. The arsenal of
democracy reigns down on the tiny island.

Speaker 2 (48:23):
What could it be like for the Japs?

Speaker 3 (48:25):
Huddled in their bunkers, surrounded doomed? Do they know they
have no hope? Do they expect death? Do they wish
for it?

Speaker 2 (48:39):
Death?

Speaker 3 (48:41):
The island is death waiting for them, ancient waiting since
before they were born. Thousands of young men have crossed
the vast oceans to come to her, following paths they
could have never foreseen. Thousands of young lives will converge

(49:02):
on our shores, converge and end. After three days of
round the clock bombardment, a clear and bright morning whispers
through the hold about problems with the shells. Many of
them never exploded, disappeared in the air. There have been

(49:24):
stories of bombers being cut in half, of bomb crews
emerging limbless from their planes. What is on the island,
some new kind of weapon, something the Japanese have been
saving until now.

Speaker 2 (49:41):
Just talk. The men feel the death out there.

Speaker 3 (49:47):
Waiting on the island. The landing vehicles ride through the waves,
and the Marines climb out onto the beaches of ash
an Alien's surface, crumbling under their boots. There is no fire,
no sound but the motors and the clinking of gear,

(50:08):
and the sergeants shouting, urging them on. No movement from
the interior. Then screams, bloody stumps, men cut in half,
but still no fire. How is there no fire? More
men screaming, Groups of men on the ground, howling, bright

(50:30):
red lumps where limbs have been How no signs at
the Japs, No fire, no shells. More vehicles land, The
beaches become a crowded, screaming nightmare. There's something here, something
beyond their understanding, invisible killing at will is at the

(50:56):
island itself. Few men manage to advance up the steep
beaches and across the rocks, but soon they were cut
apart as well. Other men follow and advance farther. They've
been trained to advance, take the beach forward, always forward. Slowly,

(51:17):
the men find their way farther and farther into the
island interior. Through horrible trial and error, they begin to understand.
They don't speak of their discovery. They don't believe it.
But their overwhelming will to go forward and their overwhelming
fear of death teach them what their minds cannot accept,

(51:40):
teach them a lesson about the island. They notice tracks
of the ash and rock where there is no grass.
These tracks are not foot trails, but deep tracks carved
at strange angles, striated like dry streams, places where it
seems the ground is simply missing. They realize they must

(52:04):
avoid these tracks. Yet they step onto them or let
any part of themselves pass over them, that part will disappear,
whether it is their fingers or feet, or limbs or
even their heads. Sometimes parts of their bodies disappear. Even
when they don't cross the tracks, and they realize that

(52:26):
there are unseen tracks through the air, invisible boundaries they
must not cross that they lose a part of their bodies.
Blood does not flow, but there is pain, pain beyond
flames or knives or bullets, pain, unbearable, unholy, inhuman. There

(52:50):
are screams all around them of men who have accidentally
run a foul of the invisible power. There's no time
to understand this, to reason it out. They simply adapt,
moving carefully, holding out blades of wild grass or shirts
or gear, probing, waiting for part of the object to disappear,

(53:16):
and stopping, testing for a way forward. Sometimes they find it,
sometimes they are forced to turn back. In less than
an hour, they have forgotten entirely about the artillery and
snipers and bayonets. There are no soldiers, only entrances to

(53:37):
empty bunkers, abandoned pieces of artillery, some cut in half,
but no enemy. They are playing a new game now
talk to them by some unseen teacher, playing it with
total concentration, playing and winning. The marine wounded with their strange,

(54:05):
unbleeding wounds are taken away, their screams fade. Orders from
command are unchanged. Take the island, so they move forward
up towards Mount Suribachi. The mountain is shaped like a
bowl a dead volcano. They approach by various paths, each

(54:27):
man following another like a narrow path of safety. Makeshift
markers are set up to show their boundaries. A marine
turns and sees, floating like a butterfly, a severed human arm.
It turns and floats away and disappears altogether. Minutes later,

(54:50):
a disembodied pair of lakes scramble past. The marines, curse
and speculate, and even giggle, but keep moving forward. There
is no time to understand. They expected to spend weeks
taking the island. Now it seems they could have it

(55:10):
in a couple of hours. A shot rings out, the
first shot since the confusion of the landing. A marine
is firing at the mountain. Others peer through their binoculars
and spy a man sitting on the rim of the mountain,
simply setting alone, just a vague shape. Snipers are called

(55:33):
in and they fire on him, but the island's air
seems to swallow the bullets. The man is untouched. They
pressed forward. The deadly tracts wind around them, growing more numerous.
Some of the men find themselves at dead ends. One
marine slips and disappears entirely, not so much as a shout.

(55:58):
They come to the foot of the mountain. It is small,
but rugged and steep, and the lone man sits over them,
looking down on them. They hear the sounds now coming
from the other side of the ridge, coming from within
the giant bowl of the mountain, human voices, many of

(56:20):
them thousands, the sounds of laughter, giggling, cackling, and howling, laughter,
like a wonderful party where somebody is telling a hilarious story.
The Marines listen to a dumbfounded. Slowly laughter fades. There

(56:41):
is a new sound, strange rushing roar that quickly breaks
apart into discreet sounds, screams, shouts, gasps, weeping terror. The
sound rises and rises, and the Marines shudder. Two fades,
and the laughter returns. And so these two sounds trade places,

(57:06):
over and over, fading in and out. Above the sounds
of the waves, a marine trains his binoculars on the
mountain again. The man is still sitting there, Japanese, wearing
a uniform. His head is floating several feet above his body.

(57:26):
The body is in several pieces with lines of sunshine
between them. His face, sweat dripping over the smooth eyelids,
shows no emotion. Slowly, he raises his hand as if
to wave to them, and his fingers float away from

(57:49):
his palm. They crawl up the mountain, bare hands on
sharp volcanic rock. The sun beats down on them. It's
a grueling The island has a secret that it doesn't
want to reveal. They draw close to the man at
the top of the mountain, keeping their guns trained on him.

(58:11):
He has no weapons. His body is fragmented, like an
image in a broken mirror, various pieces floating without connection,
the brightness of the sky shining between them. The blood
of his insides bright red. His head is like a
balloon floating several feet over the rest of him. Hello, America,

(58:37):
the head calls, breaking into a sickly smile. The whites
of the eyes are clustered with red hemorrhages. Sweat rolls
down the face. The Marines don't know how to respond.
They ask if he's armed. The question strikes one of
them as funny, and he giggles. A giggling comes from

(59:00):
the other side of the ridge, behind the fragmented man.
The giggling turns to screaming, what's going on here? You alone?
A marine asks. The man doesn't seem to understand. One
of the Marines tries his basic Japanese man makes a

(59:23):
sour face. No Nippon Korea, Korea person, the man says,
and a disembodied hand points to a nearby fragment of
his chest. I Christian, the man says. He pulls a

(59:45):
necklace out of his shirt. On the end of it
is a small metal cross. A tiny suffering Jesus gleams
in the sun. The marine tries English again. What's happening here?
The devil came here? What the soldiers had built a gate?

(01:00:08):
The child with the command I don't understand. A wide
smile splits the krea a man's face, and he lets
out a laugh, and the smile flees, and suddenly he
is weeping. His emotions seem to follow the giggles and
screams that come from inside the mountain. The marines feel

(01:00:31):
it too. The strange urge to laugh, followed by a
harrowing fear. The sound beyond the ridge rises, the screams
becoming higher and louder. A wave of man at giggling
joins the screaming, so that both sounds fill the air
at once. An electric feeling touches the skin on the

(01:00:53):
marine's arms. They find their minds filling with strange, dark thoughts,
Somewhere in a cabvessel in Japan lies a mad god
emperor who has sent his men across the ocean to
defend his glorious empire with their blood. On the other
side of the world lies a great humming factory called America,

(01:01:14):
the heart of an empire of commerce, which once forced
Japan to join the world in trade. Machines and flesh
now flow along tendril like courses, delivering goods and death
ensnaring the globe. The sun goes dark, like a light
switch turning off. The Marines instinctively duck, then look up

(01:01:38):
and gasp. Above them, extending miles into the sky, is
an enormous metallic cylinder filling the sky, blocking out the sun.
It spins slowly above them, pieces of it flickering and disappearing,
like the image and a broken movie projector. In a
day filled with madness, they find themselves confronted with something

(01:02:02):
wholly beyond their capacity for surprise. They simply mutter soft
curses and get closer to the ground. The earth seems
to tremble with the sound of the screaming and laughing,
which swirls like a storm all around them. Somewhere near
the beach. A marine pats another marine on the back,

(01:02:23):
interrupting his stunned gawking, and shouts something into his ear.
The second marine pats the man in front of him,
and the message goes up the line like this until
it reaches the marine talking to the fractured man.

Speaker 2 (01:02:38):
Pull back. They are to withdraw.

Speaker 3 (01:02:41):
From the island. The men do not question the order
for a moment. They turn and crawl away from the
Korean Below them, the ashen island flashes with pieces of sunlight.
They manage to slip through the flickering cylinder.

Speaker 2 (01:02:58):
When they are.

Speaker 3 (01:02:59):
Almost at the foot of the mountain again, the man
stands up and shouts something over the hideous screaming. The
Marines cannot hear it and would not understand it anyway,
the rough translation being the devil took Jesus went to
the mountain to show him all the kingdoms of the

(01:03:19):
world glory if you fall down and worship me, saying
I will give it all to you. Many people believe
that Michael Jackson died to propofal, not so he was murdered.
He had actually been taking Propofal nightly since around nineteen
eighty not in order to make himself sleep, but to

(01:03:42):
suppress rem sleep. After several months of remsleep suppression, the
user becomes receptive. In other words, they enter the same
state achieved by prolonged continuous immersion and aerosol LSD. The
brain can physically restructure itself simply through thought. By re
ordering the thought, one can physically reorder the brain. LSD

(01:04:06):
or long term propofol use makes the brain's neuro structure malleable.
High energy raised from outer space are able to penetrate
the body, and these can lead to random mutations and cancers,
and sometimes they lead to changes that are not random
at all, changes which have been intentionally programmed, changes designed

(01:04:28):
to bring about civilization level transformations. Michael Jackson was unaware
of all of this. He merely knew that propofol allowed
him to enter a sort of waking dream state of
heightened creativity. Side effects were horrifying paranoian obsession, but he
felt that he was strong enough to endure these side effects.

(01:04:49):
The success of Thrillers seemed to vindicate his theories about propofol,
and unfortunately he was damned by his own success. So
how did he through the lyrics of another part of me?
And the vegetable part of want to be start in something.
It was quite clear that he had become receptive and

(01:05:11):
Nero altered in line with Master Design nine, but he
was considered to be minimal threat and even perhaps an asset,
until his mounting financial problems made him a liability. He
was terminated, though I'm not sure of the exact means.

(01:05:44):
I suppose it's time to tell you what happened inside
the Magical Space Pussy. You can believe me or not.
What do I care. I'm the guy who's been inside
the Magical Space Pussy. My life has been pretty much
downhill since then. I mean, fuck Neil Armstrong, what did
he see? A bunch of gray rocks? Big fucking deal.

(01:06:07):
I saw cooch growing out of the side of a
canyon top that NASA yet tang drinking cocksuckers. Anyways, where
was I? Oh, yeah, Uncle Adolph. So I was living
in Death Valley, hanging out with the Manson family, and
Charlie kept mentioning this guy Uncle Adolph, and a figure.

(01:06:29):
He's talking about Hitler because he's sort of into this
white supremacy thing. But then I started realizing that he's
talking about a guy who's still alive.

Speaker 2 (01:06:40):
Then one day the guy showed up.

Speaker 3 (01:06:43):
They asked me to come over to their cabin, and
this old guy was sitting there, white hair, deep tan
lined face, pale eyes. He introduced himself as Adolf, and
he's got a German accent. He made no secret of
the fact that he was an ex Nazi. This made
me nervous. That's kind of something you keep under your hat.

(01:07:06):
And he said he found Charlie at Berkeley, that Charlie
was perfect for my purpose. I asked what his purpose was.
He said testing. I kind of shrugged because I didn't
really give a shit about his little koy answer, and
I got up to leave when this mongoloid motherfucker they
called Clem punched me straight in the face, and suddenly

(01:07:31):
I was on my ass. There were a couple of
girls there, and they jumped on me and held me
down and tied my hands behind my back. If I
had known what they had done to Sharon Tate, I
would have been unspeakably terrified, but as it was, I
was merely really really scared. They tossed me into the

(01:07:54):
back of the dune buggy and drove out into the desert.
It was midday, and the sky was just one giant glare.
They drove for over an hour, and eventually they got
me out and hauled me down into this deep sandy arroyo,
and they started marching me down it. They had put
wooden stakes under the ground at various points, and when

(01:08:16):
we came to them, they seemed to be really careful
to always stay in between the stakes. Later, they had
chains tied between the stakes, and we all had to
go under the chains like some kind of obstacle. Course,
I didn't know what to make of it. I had
a lot to process at the time. I started to

(01:08:39):
notice that the rock walls of the arroyo were abnormal.
There were strange durations through the rock and would look
like the cross sections of giant insect tunnels. I had
never seen rocks like that. The whole thing was just
very alien. Then I started to hear the screaming up ahead.

(01:09:01):
I could hear people's voices, thousands of voices.

Speaker 2 (01:09:04):
All of them screaming and howling at once.

Speaker 3 (01:09:08):
Slowly, incredibly, the screaming changed into a kind of laughter,
and insane laughter, giggles and chuckles and tetters.

Speaker 2 (01:09:20):
I wondered if it was in.

Speaker 3 (01:09:21):
My head, if I was so scared that my mind
had cracked, or if they had dosed me with LSD
or something. Finally, we went around a bend in the arroyo,
and well, there it was. They said it would be

(01:09:42):
a pussy, and I guess it kind of looked like one,
maybe after some kind of drastic dildo mishap. It was
just flesh, wrinkle lobbed, flabby flesh growing out of.

Speaker 2 (01:10:01):
The rock, like mold or something.

Speaker 3 (01:10:04):
It had hair and pores and freckles. Some of it
was pale, some of it was black. It was taller
than me, and in the center there was an opening,
pink and wet, just like a vagina. The crowd told

(01:10:29):
me he wanted me to see its level of development.
He took a revolver from one of the girls and
pointed at my face told me to walk inside. So
it was either get shot or go into the big
mangled pussy. It was honestly a tough choice. There was

(01:10:50):
something really fucked up, completely not right about that thing.
Something in my bones told me not to go into it,
not to go near it, to just take the bullet
in the head. But I figured maybe I could go
in just a little bit and then wait for them

(01:11:11):
to leave and get the hell out of there. Not
a great plan, but the best I could come up with.
So I went in. The entrance was just barely wide
enough to slip into it. All I could see was

(01:11:32):
glistening pink flesh.

Speaker 2 (01:11:34):
Ahead.

Speaker 3 (01:11:36):
There was a sound like laughter and then screaming, and
then laughter that was coming from deep inside. The walls
were blood warm on my shoulders, and the smell was well
what you might expect. Not great. Let's just say it

(01:11:59):
was not great. I pushed forward and the walls kind
of gave way and found myself moving through this slimy,
suffocating flesh. And I'm starting to panic because my hands
are still tied behind my back, and I'm feeling like
I'm about to choke on this stuff, and the walls

(01:12:21):
are moving like pulsating. I feel like I'm being digested.
Then suddenly I'm pushed through into this kind of chamber
talk about the frying pan, and into the fryer. The

(01:12:41):
chamber was it's just a nightmare. I mean, I never
I've just never seen that. It was unholy. There were
faces and heads and legs, all kinds of views together.

(01:13:07):
The walls were just all these crawling limbs and these
terrified faces, and fusions of teeth and cheeks and hair
and fingers coming out of knees, and just they all
those people were they still people? Had they ever been people?

(01:13:32):
Had they been made a part of that thing? I
started to scream. Everything around me was screaming. All the
mells on the walls were screaming, and I was screaming too.
Then I was laughing, and I felt hands and mouths

(01:13:56):
all over my body, and they were tickling me, touching
me all over. Then I was screaming again. I had
to get out of there. I had to get out
of the nightmare. I started pushing back towards the entrance,

(01:14:17):
but the hands were all over me. I felt something
bite into my hip. A mouth was biting me. I
screamed at the sharp pain and moved away from it.
I started to think that maybe I could get one
of the mouths to bite through my ropes, and then
I would at least have my hands free. I struggled

(01:14:40):
to turn around and move the ropes towards the mouth,
but just when I got in position, the mouth bit
right into my finger instead.

Speaker 2 (01:14:49):
The pain was incredible, but I was galling, just.

Speaker 3 (01:14:55):
Laughing and laughing. The mouth pulled the flesh from my
finger like it was a chicken wing. Another mouth bitten too,
my shoulder. I was chuckling away. At this point, the
hands were grabbing me, pulling on me, pulling me apart,

(01:15:16):
tearing my arms right out of their sockets. Fingers were
digging in between my ribs. I was slathered in blood
and screaming, screaming as the fingers dug into my eyes. Well,
I guess at this point you're probably wondering how I,

(01:15:39):
your interpret narrator, managed to escape the bottomless pit. How
I managed to survive to tell you this tale? I
simply didn't. I never escaped the bottomless pit. I am
the bottomless pit. I am a tree of life. The

(01:16:07):
North Korea situation nineteen eighties was unique, as most North
Korean situations are. They built something we haven't seen before
or since, an independent flesh interface of enormous size and power,
but within a contained incident zone and no metallic cylinders.

(01:16:29):
We detected it via the cosmic ray information signature, which
was concentrated on a secure, shielded facility outside the was
Song prison camp. This was a huge underground facility, which
they had been constructing for over a decade. We anticipated
that they would construct a portal level interface, and we

(01:16:50):
were fully prepared to bombit before it became uncontained. What
we didn't expect is that it would achieve level seven
cosmic transmission rates at all the other normal signs of
full fledged portal. We considered bombing it anyways, or using
our brilliant Pebble's kinetic orbital strike system, but instead we

(01:17:12):
managed to get two agents into the facility to take
a look at it. They achieved high level security clearance
and found that the Koreans were using the Flesh interface
as an information processing facility. This was quite novel, as
we had always considered it to be a potential weapons system.
Our curiosity was truly piqued. Clearly, the noarcs knew something

(01:17:36):
we didn't. Unfortunately, our agents weren't able to access the
enormous mainframe chamber which actually housed the interface. All they
knew was that it was in a huge chamber full
of temperature regulated water. We instructed them to breach the
chamber and get a look at it, then send us

(01:17:57):
the data by satellite. Knew full well that it would
probably cost them their lives, but we pumped them up
with a lot of do it for the planet's rhetoric.
So one night they put on dive suits and went
into the chamber. It was basically like a huge lake
contained within a massive, darkened steel box. Imagine a flooded

(01:18:19):
warehouse with endless rows of dim ceiling mites shining down
on rippling black water. They jumped into the water, and
pretty quickly they picked up on some pretty interesting audio
signals with varying frequencies, a kind of squeaking, muling sound.

(01:18:41):
They recognized the sound for what it was right away,
but had a hard time believing it.

Speaker 2 (01:18:48):
Whale songs.

Speaker 3 (01:18:51):
That chamber contained several adult humpback whales.

Speaker 2 (01:18:58):
How do I explain Mother? What is she?

Speaker 3 (01:19:04):
The translation from Greek to English states Great Babylon, the
mother of prostitutes and the abominations of the Earth. I
used to lie in my bed, the blinds pulled against
the summer sunlight, listening to the sounds of other kids

(01:19:25):
playing outside. I lay there for hours, not sleeping, wondering
who had made Mother. She was made from all different
sorts of animal parts. One of her feet was a big,
heavy hoof, the other was a tiny, little kitten paw.

(01:19:50):
I could hear her clumping around downstairs. Her smell, the
smell of cigarettes and disease. It was everywhere in the house,
pulling in the darkness.

Speaker 2 (01:20:07):
Slowly.

Speaker 3 (01:20:08):
Night would come and I would imagine floating out of
my window, floating up into the deep, starry blue, looking
down at all the houses shrinking into tiny boxes, A
clean breeze blowing on my face. How I would cry

(01:20:29):
in my little bed. I was very young when mother
first came. I had another mom before her, a good
one who wore pearls and had a voice like music.
Then one day I got sick a fever. I was

(01:20:54):
crying all day, and it went on for weeks. I
guess my first mom couldn't take it any more. One night,
she left forever. When I came down for breakfast the
next morning, this new thing was waiting for me in

(01:21:16):
the kitchen. At least I think that's what happened. Mother
never talked. She just snorted and made hoarse sounds.

Speaker 2 (01:21:32):
Awful.

Speaker 3 (01:21:34):
Her parts were sewn together with yarn, and there were
patches of wet burr lap. I didn't see her eyes
until she had been there for almost a year. Have
you ever seen a horse's eyes close up? And like
goat's eyes, they have a sideways pupil. I would come

(01:22:01):
home after school and there would be kids sitting at
the breakfast table.

Speaker 2 (01:22:09):
She gave them.

Speaker 3 (01:22:09):
Medicines, so they did whatever she wanted them to and
made them just sit there, staring and shaking. Then she
would take them down in the basement and make them
into things. She tried to make me do it too,

(01:22:32):
but I didn't want to. I realized she was afraid
of the Bible. I realized it had power, blood power.
When I read it to her her different pieces would
shudder and pull apart, and she would howl like a wolf,

(01:22:56):
and blood would run from her segments. The Bible brought
transmissions from the cross that floated in the red summer sky.
Everything in time is arranged around the epicenter, wherein the
nail drove into Christ's hand. Lines of possibilities radiate outward

(01:23:17):
from it. Kingdoms rise and fall, men grow and die
like flowers in a field. Revelations seventeen eight. The beast
that you saw was and is not and is about

(01:23:39):
to come up out of the abyss and go to destruction.
So two of our agents had breached the underwater chamber
containing the North Korean flesh interface and found nothing but
several humpback whales. This was a head scratcher. We knew

(01:24:03):
it was a flesh interface because it was receiving information
rich rays coming from outer space, Yet how could it
be taking the form of humpback whales. All previous interfaces
had taken on a decidedly less conventional form. Well, our
agents decided to get a closer look. There were three whales,

(01:24:27):
two adults in a calf. They appeared normal in every aspect,
though it was difficult to get a close look at them.
They seemed to be in quite a bit of distress,
though the agents were not biologists and had a limited
understanding of what whale distress looks like. The agents noticed

(01:24:47):
some very loud, low frequency percussive sounds coming from the
bottom of the chamber, which was entirely hidden in darkness,
so they headed down towards the bottom a distance of
several stories. There they shined their lights around and made
a fairly alarming discovery. Bones enormous curving rib bones and

(01:25:12):
jaw bones and vertebrae. They were apparently whalebones. They also
noticed a large circular gate on the floor of the chamber,
which was closed at the time. At this point, one
of the agents began to panic. He had come to
the conclusion that the whales were not the interface itself,

(01:25:35):
but merely food for the interface, which was perhaps being
held in another chamber below this one.

Speaker 2 (01:25:43):
There were some.

Speaker 3 (01:25:44):
Problems with his theory. Why use whales, a fairly rare
and very difficult animal to crawl, when they could just
use a large amount of smaller fish. Well, it's all
just speculation. The agents quickly swam out of the chamber
and never found out what was behind the gate. If anything,

(01:26:08):
Later they gave us some very valuable information on the
facility's information processing capabilities, which were staggering and quite appalling
to imagine in the hands of such a regime such
as the d p r K. Since there was no
incident zone and segmentation wasn't an issue, we were able

(01:26:29):
to solve the problem quite neatly by releasing a nerve
agent into the water chamber. The cosmic ray download stopped
shortly thereafter, indicating success, though it did result in the
loss of both agents and a major loss of life
at the facility.

Speaker 2 (01:26:44):
Overall.

Speaker 3 (01:26:46):
Anyways, that was our first encounter with an m b
i S massive biological information system, and an ear encounter
with what we would later come to call a skin ship.
Its destruction has allowed for the continued validity of prime
number based encryption systems, though some of the secrets uncovered

(01:27:11):
by the DP arcade during that time had forced us
into the unpleasant position of supporting the regime blackmail. Basically,
last night, I dreamt I was a dog. I lived

(01:27:31):
on a small family farm somewhere on the American frontier,
back in the time of plow mules and butter churns.
It was one of those long dreams that feels like
an entire lifetime. I remember the end of the dream
with awful clarity, but the beginning seems like something that

(01:27:53):
happened many years ago. The first images are vivid but disjointed.
I recalled the shape of my master walking against the
sunlight overhead, the smell of his leather boots, the shadows
at the edge of the forest, a little pig tailed

(01:28:14):
girl hugging me fresh mud in the spring, warm floorboards
in the winter. Everything had a peaceful story but quality
to it except one thing. Sometimes late at night I

(01:28:36):
heard singing. It came from outside, out there in the
far distance, from somewhere in the deep forest, beyond the
boundaries of my world. Some nights it was one voice,
but usually it was many, singing a strange, aching song.

(01:28:58):
It sounded like a haunting crow. When I was little,
I had whimpered and cried like this to my mother.
But who was crying out there in the night? What
kind of dark mother was listening? When I first heard
the singing, I was filled with a blood dread. The

(01:29:20):
hair on my back bristled, and I growled and barked
at the darkness. Even after the night finally went silent,
I trotted around for hours in vigilant anger. Later, as
I heard it more often, I learned to accept it
with a sullen unease. Of course, the singing was the

(01:29:43):
sound of wolves howling, but I didn't know this in
the dream. In the dream, i'd never seen a wolf
in my life. One winter, I began to see them
prowling in the woods. To me, they were going ghost dogs,
shadows sneaking between trees, eyes glinting in the twilight. I

(01:30:08):
growled and barked at them, but didn't pursue For several months,
they never encroached on my world. They finally came on
a late winter's evening. The sun had sunk into an
orange glow beyond the edge of the world. The family
was in the cabin, and I was out trotting through

(01:30:28):
the snow, anxious to get back to them because I
knew food would be coming soon. Then, atop a small
hill by the apple tree, an apparition. My body snapped
to attention, and I growled the hairs on my back,
standing on end. It was a wolf, just the stones

(01:30:54):
throw away from me, its silvery coat half lit in
a dying light of day. It came toward me in
a sleek, soundless jaunt. I barked and snapped at the air.
It slowed and stopped just beyond my lunging distance. Now

(01:31:15):
crazed with fear and anger, I saw that it was
a large female, healthy, well fed, with a gorgeous coat,
misty gray, the color of snow. Seeing at a winter's distance,
its smell was alien, confusing, but laced with a clear

(01:31:38):
and potent confidence, a supreme assuredness. Indeed, it did not
seem to be afraid of me at all, nor did
it threaten its mouth hung slack, and steam issued from
its muzzle, and steady happy puffs called me for a moment,

(01:32:02):
and in the next moment redoubled my anger. I growled
from the deepest, most murderous part of my dog's self.
It spoke to me. Its mouth didn't move, and there
was no sound, but by the logic of the dream,
it spoke to me in a clear, dignified voice. Hello child,

(01:32:29):
I snarled at it. It took another step forward, and
its eyes caught the last of the sunlight, glowing in
a fantastic array of yellows. Those eyes, rimmed in jet
black like mascera, projected a powerful allure and other worldly glamor.

(01:32:53):
You bark and snarl, but look at my face? Am
I not your kind? It asked. I could not answer.
I can only growl softly. Is my face not like
your mother's? Do you remember hers? A sudden scent of

(01:33:16):
distant memory came to me, and I felt a pang
of loneliness. I had not seen my mother or any
other dog since I was small, Since I had come
to the farm. My only family had been the people
I lived with, and a few of the more tolerant pigs.

(01:33:36):
I searched now for dim, fragrant memories of my mother.
I felt her huge bristled muzzle, looking.

Speaker 2 (01:33:44):
At my face.

Speaker 3 (01:33:46):
I saw her giant sweeping legs. As I followed them
through the high fields, she had seemed taller than a horse.
Then I remember the softness of her teats, feeding from them.
With my brothers and sisters, what had become of my family.

(01:34:08):
I had spent every day with them, and then one
day all gone. The wolf paced back and forth, now
keeping a small distance from me, its eyes ranging over
the farm.

Speaker 2 (01:34:26):
Again.

Speaker 3 (01:34:27):
I saw some strange, haunting glamor in them, something that
glittered with secret, distant power. The people in that house,
they're not your family. We are we share ancient blood,
it said, its voice, deep and resounding with the rhythm

(01:34:48):
of wisdom. My master had a voice like this, but
it didn't have the total authority of this alpha female's.
I saw with alarm two dark shapes come over the
hill by the apple tree, more wolves, moving silent with
heads lowered. I barked at them. You hate us and

(01:35:11):
love them, But do they love you? What are you
to them? Aren't you the lowest of the low always
getting the last of the food the smallest scraps. Imagine
living differently, Imagine taking your own food, killing, drinking life blood,

(01:35:33):
being master over others. The two other wolves slunk down
the hill. The skin on my back tightened again, but
the strange hypnotic power of the Alpha wolf held me still.
You could leave this house and come with us. We
ranged the forest. We've seen rivers wider than this whole, valley,

(01:35:57):
mountains that go up into the clouds, lakes with no
end but the end of the world, places with no
houses or men at all. You could be with us.
We could be your brothers and sisters. The other two
wolves came closer. They were unmistakably female, both young and

(01:36:22):
well muscled. Their confidence was not as absolute as the
Alpha wolf's, but they showed no fear as they came
to me. I smelled on them a strange longing, a
deep winter's desire for warmth. The Alfa wolf stepped closer,

(01:36:43):
close enough that her steaming breath tickled my nose. Her
eyes danced with cold, burning light, and she spoke in
a voice that made my blood hum outside. Your life
waits everything you've never known, she said. There are world's child,

(01:37:05):
There are ecstasies. Then I recognized the allure that lit
her eyes, the unspeakable longing that glimmered in their depths.
It had seemed this whole time to be some fantastic
alien desire reaching out to me from a distant world.

(01:37:27):
Perhaps it truly was, But more simply than this, it
was hunger, plain hunger, that ancient, unsleeping hunger, older than
the first furred thing that ever gave rise to the

(01:37:47):
races of dogs.

Speaker 2 (01:37:48):
And wolves and men.

Speaker 3 (01:37:51):
Hunger had brought this wolf across rivers and mountains and
endless frozen plains to meet me. In that moment, I
can still see her face, the final image of the dream,
before the other wolves tore into me and I died,
and I awoke her face with eyes that spoke of

(01:38:13):
open loneliness, her face so noble and gentle and motherly,
her face as beautiful and ancient as the stars. What
do you do when a child who bleeds and sweats
and peas alict suddenly goes missing? Well, conduct a massive search,

(01:38:39):
as massive as we could manage. Almost every mentally elevated
c I A department was involved. We didn't trust anybody else.
We never trusted anybody else. Shit, We didn't even trust ourselves,
considering that it was one of our own who had
taken the child. We search for about two months, but

(01:39:01):
never really turned up any leads, since every other returned
child had died within a few days of being freed
from there. In a monic sack, we scaled the search
down pretty quickly. It's one thing to search for somebody
like beIN Lawden when everybody knows you're looking for him.

(01:39:21):
It's another thing to search for somebody you would just
work quite hard to erase from official existence so you
would be free to perform tests on her. We felt
that the search itself was more of a security risk
than the missing child, since she was almost certainly dead.
There was also a feeling that maybe it was for

(01:39:42):
the best. Maybe she would survive, maybe she would have
a happy life, Maybe it was best not to know
her fate. But then about seven years later we learned
what happened. If you'll allow me to wax philosophical for

(01:40:03):
a moment, I'd like to quote a poem from Ascilius
that I've actually never read. Even in our sleep. Pain
which cannot forget, falls drop by drop upon the heart
until in her own despair against our will comes wisdom
through the awful grace of God. While I'm no literary scholar,

(01:40:27):
I believe this means learning can hurt sometimes. So she
had survived, her genes came up in our program to
collect a global genetic snap shot, a total boondogle by
the way. So where was she being worshiped as a
god by some doomsday count like Johnny two? Floating through

(01:40:51):
space in a bubble to Jupiter and beyond Estonia. She
was found in Estonia and a Swedish speaking village on
the island of Hyama. She was living a normal life.
Apparently the issue with the bioealesty had resolved itself after
detachment from the placenta. Otherwise, anybody who got a kiss

(01:41:14):
from her would have found themselves going on a very
strange journey. She was about thirteen years old at this
point and had survived travel far longer than any other child.
This meant she was an asset we absolutely had to obtain.
She contained the secret to survivable travel, something that had

(01:41:35):
eluded us for years. It would have been convenient if
she was living a life of abuse and drudgery in
some orphanage somewhere We could have simply considered her a
victim of fortune. But she was actually living in some
quaint little village on the edge of a forest with
an old couple who had been given some phony story

(01:41:58):
by a former agent. It was a nice life, quiet,
maybe a little boring, but a nice one. We took
her in the middle of the night back to our
facility in Colorado. In the end, she wasn't a victim
of fortune. She was a victim of us. That's interesting.

(01:42:28):
When I was working for the CIA, we found that
animals could often survive travel through the flesh interfaces much
better than humans could. We regularly had success sending dogs
and cats through. Somebody hit upon the idea of sending
some hill minya, a type of bird, through the interface,
because they are adept at imitating sounds. This was the

(01:42:52):
next best thing to sending a tape recorder. The interfaces
did not accept non living objects. We worked on grafting
a taper quarter to a turtle, but this was unsuccessful
on several levels. We sent the birds through and they
returned unencased but covered with the typical fluids. Those of

(01:43:12):
us who subscribed to the alien theory had high hopes
that they would record aliens speech instead, or indeed, they
came back imitating a strange flute like speech music. The
music was quite interesting, though having all the birds sing
at once created distinctly unpleasant effects. Somebody in the department

(01:43:36):
ended up killing all the birds, though we never found
out who. After the orbital arrays incinerated the city, they
dropped our platoon in to take a look around. We
had seen it before, an endless graveyard, everything, ashes, ash buildings, people.

(01:44:02):
For six days we trudged through the dead city before
finding the first sign of life on the edge of
the blast zone, before frozen winter fields, a small flowering bush.
Perhaps the heat of the bombardment had tricked it into
blooming early. We all looked at it for a silent

(01:44:24):
moment and quickly moved on. We were young and tired,
just miles from the rendezvous. Yes, sometimes at night, that
silent moment returns. I see them fluttering again, and the cold,

(01:44:44):
uncarrying wind, doomed flowers, soft and pale. I'm not sure
who came up the idea of sending a dead body
through the portal. At such a simple idea, and yet
at the time it made no more sense than buckling

(01:45:06):
a dead body into a space capsule and sending it
up into space. We wanted to find out what was
on the other side of the portal, beyond the event horizon.
We had been studying the so called flesh in our
faces for years and all of the mysteries that surrounded them.

(01:45:27):
The portal phenomenon, the apparent teleportation of objects which occurred
within the fleshy tunnel, was the greatest mystery of all,
so sending a dead body made little sense. Remember this
is what we knew at the time. If an inanimate
object went through the portal, it returned a short time

(01:45:50):
three seconds or so later at a random location within
the interior zone. Cameras and sensors picked up nothing of interest.
If an animal went into the portal, it sometimes returned
either alive or dead. Most returned altered. If an adult
human went into the portal, the person was likely to return,

(01:46:11):
but would either be dead or too altered to describe
the other side. Those who returned alive died shortly after.
If a child went into the portal, the child was
likely to return alive, but was invariably altered. However, the
altering was relatively mild and some even remained cognizant. Unfortunately,

(01:46:34):
information gleaned from them was cryptic and seemed to generate
more questions than answers. They all died shortly after. Sending
children through the portal was distasteful to us for obvious reasons,
and we were searching for an alternative. One day, during

(01:46:56):
an experiment, someone was about to send a group of
genetically altered mice through when they noticed that one of
the mice was dead. Perhaps out of curiosity, they sent
it with the other ones. Anyway, all the mice came
back alive. This was obviously of great interest. Now we
were not only dealing with teleportation, but with resurrection. Of course,

(01:47:21):
we immediately started sending all manner of dead animals.

Speaker 2 (01:47:24):
Through the portal.

Speaker 3 (01:47:26):
We joked that if the portal was actually some kind
of alien office mailing tube, they'd probably be pretty pissed
about all the dead rodents. Most of the animals were
rejected in the manner of inanimate objects, but occasionally, if
they were quite freshly dead, they would come back alive.

(01:47:48):
Not only that, but none of the returned animals seemed
altered at all. This was exciting. Naturally, we progressed to
people we wanted very fresh, very intact corpses. So we
had to face the question of how to kill a
person with the least harm. As the official recommendations absurdly

(01:48:11):
phrased it. We settled on a method of stopping the
heart with electricity. Very Neat the first sixteen subjects were
rejected by the portal. We felt pretty low in our
attempts at resurrection. We were racking up quite a body count. Finally,

(01:48:31):
the seventeenth subject came back to us. Not only that,
but he was cognizant and seemed entirely unaltered. Now, finally,
after decades, we were about to find out the secret
of the other side. In sixty three b C. The

(01:48:55):
Roman general Neus Pompeius Magnus marched his soul across the
Kingdom of Judea and laid siege to Jerusalem, its heavily
fortified capital city, known to history as Pompey the Great.
He was forty three years old at the time and
one of the most powerful men in the world, an
ascended general tasked with expanding the mightiest empire on earth.

(01:49:20):
In his dealings with the occupants of the obscure Kingdom
of Judaea, he surely had become aware of their peculiar
devotion to a mysterious God, which they worshiped to the
exclusion of all others, a strange notion for a cosmopolitan
Roman accustomed to a bustling market place of competing gods
and cults. He also knew that at the heart of

(01:49:42):
Jerusalem there stood a great temple, even more well fortified
than the rest of the city, where his curious God
resided amongst angelic statues of gold and other symbols of
occult majesty. This temple was the holiest site in a
holy kingdom, and attained within its walls a small sanctuary
chamber known as the Kodesh Hakodashum, or Holy of Holies,

(01:50:09):
where the very presence of this God was said to
dwell in darkness. Nobody in the kingdom was allowed in
the Kodesh Hakadashum except the High Priest, and then only
once a year, on the day of Atonement, to sprinkle
animal blood on the ground as an offering. The Kodesh
was separated from the rest of the temple by an

(01:50:30):
elaborate curtain, and the high Priest was required to ritually
cleanse himself before entering it was said that any unclean
person who entered the Kodesh would be met with death,
and legend has it that the high priest only entered
the sanctuary with a rope tied around his ankle, so
that if he died therein, he could be pulled back out.

(01:50:54):
How much of this did Pompey the Great no on
the day the city finally fell after three months. On
that day, he and his soldiers slaughtered twelve thousand Jews
who were defending the sanctuary, and he strode through the
entrance of the imposing temple as a conquering hero to
the Romans and a murdering intruder to the Jews. Inside

(01:51:16):
the temple, he saw the glittering wealth acquired from faithful
Jews throughout the region, But rather than wealth, it seemed
that he was more interested in finally laying eyes on
the reclusive god he had heard so much about. Ancient
historians record that he did not relieve the temple of
its treasure, but instead went to the Kodesh. Maybe he

(01:51:40):
wanted to see what sort of magical creature could maintain
such a peculiar hold over its faithful that they would
not abandon the temple, even after it was hopelessly overrun,
that they would stay and die by the thousands, sacrificing
their own blood on its grounds. Perhaps he was unaware
of the tale of death that surrounded the Kodesh Hakadashum.

(01:52:04):
Perhaps he didn't know that this was a god which
had leveled the world with a flood, which had rained
fire on cities, which had delivered the Jews from the
yoke of the mighty Egyptian Empire, which had destroyed armies
and kingdoms. Or perhaps he had heard these stories and
simply didn't believe them at any rate. History records that

(01:52:28):
he went to the inner part of the temple and
pulled back the curtain which hid the Kodesh from the world,
so that he might stand and gaze upon the very
presence of God. The man was an illegal immigrant from Honduras.

(01:52:49):
Illegal immigration had always been a great help to us.
Why bother to erase people when they can do it themselves. Anyways,
he was under the impression that he had been in
the custody of Ima, a great enforcement for the last
few months while we ran the standard battery of test.
He was twenty four years old, hundred seventy one centimeters tall,

(01:53:11):
above average intelligence. We stopped his heart with electrodes and
put him inside the flesh interface. He came back quite
jittery and minimally responsive, posing his doctors and nurses. Our
technicians took him to a medical room for testing. In interviews,
we assumed he had been altered, but we tested his

(01:53:33):
blood for the presence of the exotic LSD analogs that
accompanied alteration, and there were none. Slowly, over a period
of several hours, he began to calm down. Then he
began to talk. We asked him what he remembered about

(01:53:53):
the last few hours. He was under the impression that
his experiences had merely been a dream, that some sort
of calamity had happened during his sleep, which left him reeling.
He assumed that the part where we dragged him out
of bed and stopped his heart was a dream too.
He said that after that part of the dream, he

(01:54:14):
suddenly found himself inside something that looked like a giant
sausage casing like a tunnel of meat. This was very
exciting to us because it roughly corresponded to the appearance
of the flesh interface, which contained the portal. But given
how he was brought into the interface tunnel dead and
returned within the interior zone. He couldn't possibly have seen

(01:54:38):
the interface tunnel. Therefore, we surmised he was describing the
interface on the other side of the portal. This was
our first concrete knowledge of what was on the other side.
What did Pompey expect to find on the other side
of the curtain? In many Roman temples there was an

(01:54:59):
image of the Honored God occupying some central place in
the structure. It can be assumed that he expected to
find one of these. But did he expect to find
the actual presence of God? Could he have possibly expected this?
For if he had believed in the Jewish lore, wouldn't

(01:55:19):
he have also expected death. Wouldn't he expect to be
punished for defiling the temple? Would he have been so
cavalier about pulling back the curtain? Perhaps in his polytheistic mindset,
he assumed that his gods, which had seen fit to
give him yet another glorious victory, were more powerful than

(01:55:40):
this backwater Jewish God. What did we expect to be
on the other side of the portal? Some kind of
intelligence which could explain the bizarre living conditions of the
flesh interfaces. If the interfaces were the product of an intelligence,

(01:56:00):
was it really something we wanted to make contact with.
Did we expect this intelligence to be kind and benevolent?
If so, what would a benevolent intelligence possibly make of
our ruthlessness? A rapacious quest for understanding, According to Taktis,

(01:56:22):
the ancient historian, when Pompey pulled back the curtain and
gazed upon the Kodesh Hakadashum, it contained no representation of
the deity. The sanctuary was empty, and the Holy of
holies untenanted. He found nothing an empty room, nor was

(01:56:47):
he met with death. Instead, he strode out of the
temple alive and healthy, destined to go on to the
greater and greater political glory until fifteen years later, when
he would finally stabbed death on the shores of the
Nile Delta after his defeat to Julius Caesar in the
Roman Civil War. As the Man spoke of walking through

(01:57:11):
the unearthly living tunnel of the flesh interface, he said
he saw a bluish light ahead and heard what seemed
to be music, almost like flutes, but much much deeper.
As he told his story, sitting on the edge of
a hospital bed, wearing a loose gown. His hand wandered

(01:57:33):
to his chest and he touched the skin above his heart.
There he found two slightly singed patches of skin where
we had attached the electrodes that ended his life. I
still get chills whenever Carlyle's face changed when he realized

(01:57:53):
that it had not been a dream at all. It
was a pitiful, almost child look of terrible, unwonted understanding.
Tears quickly flooded his eyes. This man, who had been
brought back from death itself by an unimaginable technology, by

(01:58:14):
forces beyond all our understanding, slowly went limp and died
for a second time, And so we were left with
disappointment once again, more mystery, more frustration. We had already

(01:58:34):
heard from our child's subjects about the strange flute music,
but always in cryptic, disjointed terms. We had hoped that
this man would give us something more concrete, but the
answer had eluded us once again. So we went back
to our experiments, selecting a new round of subjects to

(01:58:56):
send through the portal. We had already sacrificed so many
lives in our quest, and there was no reason to
stop then. Knowing what I know now, I sometimes wonder
was Pompey lucky when he pulled back the curtain and

(01:59:18):
found nothing. Of all the children who had been returned
from the portals, only once survived in the long term,
though we didn't even realize it until years later. She
had been stolen or rescued from us by a rogue
technician shortly after return, and was thus lost to us

(01:59:42):
for many years. We finally found her in Estonia and
kidnapped her from her adoptive family in the middle of
the night. She was seven when we lost her and
thirteen when we found her again. We did a preliminary
interview and she seemed normal in every respect. Mind you,

(02:00:03):
this was a girl who entered a massive, possibly alien
biological device called the Flesh Interface, disappeared from existence for
several minutes, then returned encased in an amniotic sac attached
to a placenta via umbilical cord, with enough LSDY in
her bloodstream to turn all of Utah into one massive orgy. Naturally,

(02:00:27):
we expected some sort of mental changes, especially since every
child who returned from the portals had shown the signs
of mental aberration. Then again, every other child had died
shortly after return, so she was clearly something special. But no,

(02:00:47):
she was normal, frustratingly normal, So we started prying into
her past. She was reticent, but young and fairly trusting,
and it wasn't hard to get information out of her.
She said she was born in Brazil, which was correct.

(02:01:08):
We had acquired her from a Brazilian orphanage, where she
had lived since infancy, a daughter of a dead prostitute
and an unknown father. She vaguely remembered her time at
the orphanage, and they were not very happy memories. She
then began telling us about the first day she met
her adoptive parents, but we wanted to know about the

(02:01:31):
time in between, when she was in our possession, when
she went into the portal and came back. We asked
what happened before she met her adoptive parents. She said
she remembered a long, boring boat trip to come over
to the Estonian Islands. We asked her where she lived before.

(02:01:51):
Then at this question, she grew distinctly uncomfortable. She said
she didn't really remember. We pressed her. Her face began
to twitch and shudder. This was the first time she
had showed any sign of abnormality. We kept pressing her
on the question. There was one summer, she said, quietly,

(02:02:17):
after I moved out of the orphanage, but before I
came to Estonia, when I lived with a woman who
said she was my mother. This was news to us.
Our files had it that she had lived continuously at
the orphanage. We asked her about the exact time, but

(02:02:37):
all she knew was that it was for one summer.
This was curious because she had been in our possession
one summer seven years ago. The timelines matched well, but
the events were entirely different. We asked her to elaborate.
She said that one day a woman had come back

(02:02:59):
to the orphanage, saying that she was her mother, and
the Americans who ran the place had made her go
with the woman. They had gone to a crummy old house,
and she lived there for a summer. As she said this,
she began to sob. She said that she had forgotten
all about this, that she hardly remembered it at all,

(02:03:23):
that she didn't want to talk about it. She wasn't
my mother. I knew her face wasn't right. It wasn't
a real face. Oh no, this one is real. This

(02:03:43):
is always the first thought when waking up after a blackout.
After hours of flighting between different varieties of nightmare, you
start to dream that you were lying, sick and insane
in a stained bed and a shithole apartment that smells
like cigarette and spoiled ham. Your slowly crystallizing consciousness begins

(02:04:05):
to note that this particular nightmare is more persistent than
the others. It has a certain uncanny clarity to it.
Oh no, you realize this one is real. You wake
up to the utter ugliness of your reality. It's too much,

(02:04:29):
too awful. What is the last thing you remember? God,
it wasn't even midnight before the madness set in. You
look at your hands. A tiny vibration runs through the fingers.
Your entire mind feels like the raw midy patch that
is left after a fingernails torn off.

Speaker 2 (02:04:52):
How many hours were you blacked out? Three? Four?

Speaker 3 (02:04:59):
You set up and look around for evidence of mischief,
smash plates, bags of takeout food, a night stand drawer
filled with vomit. All clear. You feel your face for bruises.
Nothing major, wallet and phone present and accounted for. Your

(02:05:22):
phone says it's two pm. Not bad. You check the
calls and text. Nothing unusual, no two hour conversation with
your boss. Starting at five am. You log into your
bank website and take a look. Ninety four dollars fifty

(02:05:43):
six cents spent last night the King's ransom by your standards,
but at least you didn't go on a four hundred
dollars blowout. You sit and wonder why you have this
feeling of black guilt in your stomach. It's just a hangover, right,
just your poor brain snapping back from all the depressant

(02:06:05):
you gave it last night, entering a hyper vigilant state,
a paranoid state, an intolerable state.

Speaker 2 (02:06:18):
God, you need a drink.

Speaker 3 (02:06:21):
You deserve a drink for not blowing the rent last night. Medically,
you need a drink, just a little one, but nothing
overboard that might get you drunk at three in the
afternoon and black out again.

Speaker 2 (02:06:35):
Tonight.

Speaker 3 (02:06:37):
You go out of your tiny bedroom to the front
part of your apartment, and your heart stops. A woman
is lying asleep on your couch. Not a young woman,
an old woman, a tiny old grandma with messy gray hair. Jesus,

(02:06:59):
what if you done? Her eyes slowly open? At least
she's alive, she asks, if you're okay? Now you nod.
The question is sinister? Okay? Now, what had been going
on before? You can't deal with this without a drink?

(02:07:23):
Who gives a shit if she sees this old lady
in sweatpants. You go to the freezer and get the
vodka and taken two good belts. Your stomach makes a
violent protest, but your brain almost weeps with relief. Who
are you? You asked the woman directly. She smiles and

(02:07:46):
lets out a shy, grandmotherly little chuckle. She says she
didn't expect you to remember last night, that you had
repeatedly warned her that you wouldn't. Her demeanor so warm
and kind, you begin to worry that you have fucked
this woman, That you have fucked this elderly woman, and

(02:08:08):
now she wants to move her postupedic bed into your apartment.
You ask her with greater urgency who she is, and
you tip another shot into your mouth. She says that
she wants to hear the end of your story. She
says last night that you came into the cafe that
she owns, carrying a bottle of wine. Before she could

(02:08:32):
tell you to leave, you began telling a story. A
wonderful story, but you got too drunk and didn't finish it.
So she got you into a cab and made sure
you got home and slept on the couch because she
very much wanted to hear the end of your story.
You tell her that you don't recall any story. She

(02:08:52):
expects this. She says that it's the story about the
children in the forest. You must know it. It was
too good to have just been made up.

Speaker 2 (02:09:04):
You shrug.

Speaker 3 (02:09:05):
You don't know any stories about any children in the
forest unless it's Hansel and Gretel. Was it Hansel and Gretel?

Speaker 2 (02:09:15):
It was not.

Speaker 3 (02:09:17):
Well, that's the only child for a story, you know.
She tells you that it was a very beautiful story
and it made her cry, and she very much wants
to know the end of it. Your mind turns through
the possibilities. This woman is crazy. She's about to ask
for money. She's going to rob you. She wants to

(02:09:40):
get your information so she can have you arrested. The
cops are already on their way and she's stalling, but
the pleading look in her eyes is quite convincing. She
does just want to hear the story. The vodka is
starting to loosen the paranoiaus grip. You take another sick

(02:10:01):
How many drinks was that two? Okay, don't want to
get too drunk too early. No more drinking for the
next hour. You take another sip. If you can't drink
for the next hour, you'll need that last sip. You
sit down on the couch next to her, sweet relief

(02:10:23):
of the vodkas melting away some of your anxiety. She
let out a big sigh. You asked her to tell
you some of the story, maybe it will jog your memory.
She insists that she can't tell it as good as
you told it, but you brush her protests aside. She

(02:10:44):
begins to tell you the story in her warm, grandmotherly voice.
She begins to tell you about the magical children who
lived in the forest, who danced and sang and never died,
who fought bravely against the nightmare forces of the ancient queen.

(02:11:04):
It really is a beautiful story, and the woman tells
it so well. And the woman tells it so well
with lots of nice little touches that make you giggle softly.
You see in your minds for a moment, sunlight through
the fluttering leaves, and the smell of the apple scented air,

(02:11:25):
so much sweeter and freer than anything your tiny, grim
shithole apartment full of empty bottles, and once again your
eyes grow damp. You have heard from various people, at
various times the beginning of this story, but you have
never heard the end. Perhaps it has none. Imagine a

(02:11:52):
dead cat wearing an old jockstrap. This is the smell
of the bed sores. This is the smell that comes
out of the hygiene beds when we open them up.
It's not just a smell, but a feeling, a sickly
warmth that the mask cannot block out, even through the filters.

Speaker 2 (02:12:13):
Scented air.

Speaker 3 (02:12:14):
You know it's there, coming through the filters in less
than point one micrometer sized particles, touching your face, touching
your clothes, adhering to you, fouling you, fouling everything it touches.
I think what makes the smell so putrid is thatid

(02:12:35):
It's a combination of living tissue and dead tissue. Somehow,
this unnatural intermingling of life and death creates a potent
stench that is repellent to basic human sensibility. This is
why I'm saving up to go to school and become
a readjustment specialist. Pulling people out of malfunctioning hygiene beds

(02:12:56):
is no way to make a living. Certainly it is
not the calling of a sensitive, erudite soul such as myself.
When a hygiene bed breaks, say the healthy limb system
fails or a cather gets blocked up, it's supposed to
cut off the internet feed, forcing the sleeper to get
the bed fixed. But it's easily enough to override this

(02:13:19):
cutoff function immersed in their feeds. People often forget that
the bed is broken, but eventually pain or discomfort will
force the sleeper to get their beds fixed. The pain
of bed sores or the stench of a backed up
evacuator is a strong motivator, but if the sleeper has
direct sense feeds, they can switch off the smells and discomforts.

(02:13:43):
They can even switch off the worry associated with the
broken bed. At this point, there's only one thing which
can impel them to save themselves, basic human dignity, the
age old desire to not spend one's days playing princess
romance cafe, lying in one's own shit while one's dick

(02:14:04):
rots off. I would also say that an occasional fleeting
desire to see the outside world could also prove advantageous,
But for the sort of people I'm talking about here,
this is simply not a factor. Sadly, for some people,
this desire is not strong enough, and we come to

(02:14:25):
the very last line of defense, the smell. The smell
eventually leaks out of the hygiene bed's encasement, and nearby
tenants start to notice. The building manager calls us and
we go and pull them out. For the most hardcore sleepers,
those who have entirely rejected reality in favor of their feeds,

(02:14:48):
it is the smell, and the smell alone that saves
their lives, before the bacteria devour them alive. It is
the smelly hand of salvation that plucks them from the abyss.
I don't know what God looks like, but he smells
like a dead cat wearing an old jockstrap. How quickly

(02:15:11):
they turn to complete animals. They come out of the
wagons already quite bestial, crying and lowing for water. Yet
there is still the facsimile of humanity about them. They
wear clothes, spectacles, wedding rings. The women have their long
hair and jewelry. We strip away all this deceit quite quickly.

(02:15:36):
At the front of the camp there is a phony
train station with a phony name and phony clock with
hands that are painted on. All of it is just
as phony is all they're posing, they're insinuating, they're pretending
to be normal folk. As soon as they come down
the ramp, the blue prisoner units are screaming at them,

(02:15:57):
beating them, lashing them, drawing blood, and they move through
the front gates and huddled weeping herds. There we separate
the men and women and have the women's hair cut
to make socks and such. And in a moment it
is complete. Sentries of hiding among us, posing and passing

(02:16:23):
is all erased, exposed, and their nature is plain. Looking
at their hideous, gnarled faces, all the varieties of bloodline impurities,
the women sagging utters, the fatty hanging bellies, the men's
mutilated penises and thatches of pubic hair, you see it

(02:16:46):
quite clearly, and you absolutely cannot deny that they are
utter beasts, that we allow them to infest our cities.
Like Vermin told power over us, we were tilling the
soil and building the fatherland. It absolutely appalls this will

(02:17:09):
be our great shame in history's eyes. We move them
through the long tube to the gas chambers. The men
can go first, as their hair does not need cutting.

Speaker 2 (02:17:21):
Then the women.

Speaker 3 (02:17:23):
The women panic screams everywhere you watch. The mottled haunches
of the old women shudder and ripple as their legs
shake like new born calves. They realize that we will
not be wasting any time, that it will all be immediate.
Streams of fresh shit run down their legs, and now

(02:17:44):
the helpers must club them every step of the way.
They will turn back. Marchenko carries the sword. He thinks
it is an imperial cavalry sword, but it is just
an imitation. Still, it is an actual sword, and in

(02:18:04):
his hands it is more effective than the clubs. He
hacks at the crowd like a jungle explorer in an
American film. He makes all sort of sneering, dramatic faces
as he works, and whenever he scores a particularly impressive blow,
his whole face red with delight. Once he sliced an

(02:18:26):
old woman's tit clean off, he picked it up and
showed it to me. The inside was made of corn
colored pearls of fat. I let him take it to
the work camp and have a good chuckle watching a
prisoner devour it. And I had a good chuckle watching
Marchenko's face. There are only a couple dozen s s

(02:18:48):
at the camp. Almost everything is run by Red Army
watchmen and special prison units, and yet we can process
fifteen thousand a day. One it is because of the
way the camp has been built. There's a fake train station,
tales of showers and uniforms and assignments, the narrow tube

(02:19:12):
to funnel people into the balls, to hide the chambers
and the pits. And there's the hierarchy, the captured Red
Army men and the special unit prisoners, all set against
each other with the proper incentives. Everything in the structure
concentrates power on us. Perhaps, if the right structure was built,

(02:19:37):
an entire race could be illuminated by a single man
with an unloaded gun. Consider this case. A woman twenty
eight years old lives in a bed rack apartment block
in Alabama. She has engaged in heavy feed used since childhood,

(02:19:58):
spending seventy to eighty percent of her FOE free time connected.
At age sixteen, she finds global success as mixed guide,
netting her a considerable sum of money. One day, when
she is nineteen years old, she connects to her feed.
She does not disconnect again for nine years. Nine years

(02:20:19):
of continuous feed, nine years without any direct human contact,
nine years alone in a hygiene bed, dreaming. Meanwhile, her
feet is a veritable flurry of digital contact mixes, live stories,
roll swaps, rooms, hunts, avatar makers, empathy games, sex.

Speaker 2 (02:20:40):
Play, and on and on.

Speaker 3 (02:20:43):
For a while, her mixed tour sell well and she
enjoys her celebrity. But over the years, taste changes and
her income falls. Tryes she might, she cannot revive her popularity.
She tries sorty, tutoring, crowd matching, whatever will make her money,

(02:21:05):
but the competition in these markets is harsh and she
has significant debts to several promotion companies. Her money runs out.
She manages the credit bounce for a while, but the
writing is on the wall. She must disconnect. She knows this,
yet she cannot bring herself to do it. Within the feed,

(02:21:29):
she is well liked by her spheres, known as a
talented mixer and narrator, a reasonable wall mediator, and a
sensitive and capable participant and sex play. But she has
a direct sense feed with complete safety overrides She has
been on increasing pain dampening for the last four years.

(02:21:51):
She knows she has bed sores and perhaps will need
multiple amputations. She has assumed that she will live feed
to grave and cannot bring herself to disconnect. She researches
cortical suicide methods but decides against it. She contacts emergency
services and ranges for them to remove her from her

(02:22:12):
hygiene bed. One day, shortly after her twenty eighth birthday,
she is disconnected. After a nine year dream, she wakes
to a world of horrifying pain. Pain dampening has blocked
her opioid receptors, and the removal technicians can do nothing
for her agony. Her entire body is atrophied and she

(02:22:35):
has severe calcification around reports cathere an evacuator, as well
as numerous source and abscesses and general muscle atrophy. She
is taken to the hospital for physical rehabilitation. After several operations,
she is stabilized and her pain has subsided to manageable levels. Thankfully,

(02:22:58):
her limbs are still intact. After eye treatments, she looks
at herself in the mirror find something she doesn't recognize.
She is aged nine years though lack of sun exposure
and facial expressions has left her face smooth and unlined,
albeit inhumanly gawned and pale. Within a few days, the

(02:23:22):
hospital sends her home. She must use a scooter to
return to her apartment, which is little more than a
weather proof box to contain her hygiene bed. What will
become of this woman sitting alone in her apartment with
no job and no touch friends, without even a bathroom

(02:23:43):
other than that hygiene bed. She will find it very
difficult to resist the lure of the feed. Lack of
stimulation will mean that she is often bored. The lack
of predictability will mean that she is anxious. Whenever she
is not bored, she will find unmediated socializing tortures. According

(02:24:05):
to our statistics, there will be a ninety percent chance
of her making another long term connection within a month.
There will be a thirty percent chance of her dying
within one year. This is the price of long term connection.
It is inescapable. Less than one percent of users connected

(02:24:25):
continuously for more than three years are able to go
on to lead successful disconnected lives. In America, there are
currently over thirty million users on long term connections. Unless
something changes, they will stay connected until they die. This

(02:24:47):
is why we have created Companion twelve. Our form is
our story, the story of all the world. The world
not sleep. Everywhere, ten thousand things are darting, skittering, flitting, scudding, burrowing.

(02:25:08):
Sleep is righteousness, but the world wakes. We are made
in the image of the world. The world is a
giant of our kind, and we live on its back.
It's trees and grasses and hills are like the hairs
on our backs. Our paws are soft, and our ways

(02:25:28):
are subtle and silky. So we are in harmony with
the world. But everywhere ten thousand things are scuttling out
of harmony, and this causes the world to itch and suffer,
just as little scuttling things on our backs cause us
to itch and suffer. So the world cannot sleep, and

(02:25:53):
everything turns and spins, and we cannot sleep, for we
are in the image of the world. This is why
we hunt. It is our duty to hunt out all
the little scuttling things, to devour them, expel them, and

(02:26:13):
bury them back into the world, leaving no trace. We
must hunt night and day. We hunt the ten thousand
things on the world's back, just as we hunt and
clean the little scuttling things from our own backs. One
day we will destroy all the ten thousand things, and
the world will sleep, and we will sleep, and everything

(02:26:38):
will sleep forever. This will be a great righteousness. We
can feel this righteousness every time we sleep, and we
can feel a great injustice every time we are awoken.
So we hunt, So we must hunt. This truth is

(02:27:00):
in our bones, in our claws, in our form, For
we are made in the image of the world, and
our form contains all truth. Our form is our story,
story of all the world. But now we are confronted
with a great mystery. We do not abide mysteries. They

(02:27:24):
plague our sleep. We must solve them. What is hidden
must be uncovered. So we search and sleuth. But this
mystery eludes, It scuttles and slips away time after time,
and we do not sleep. But it seems there are

(02:27:44):
no messages in our form which gives us any answer.
Is our form incomplete? I above all others have become
obsessed with the mystery, the mystery of the early ones.

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