Thursday, January 26, 2006

O Sweet Sleep of Ages


How marvellous! Xister believes himself to be in the year 45780 stranded in a future world, while Maskatron and I navigate the centuries in our stolen time machine. How foolish of him to fall victim to the very powers of hynosis that he once taught me, his apt protege. We shall keep the arch-sorcerer thus enthralled for as long as it takes to put an end to the nefarious Fakiegrind and its crew of clueless Agents.


Of course, the truth behind the identities of these various authors might startle and amaze, but we don't want to wake any readers from their sound, respective stupours. Most of all, we want to keep the chatterbox, Flatlander, from any realizations of his true identity. If we can just keep him blogging for the next few decades or so, Maskatron and I stand to inheret a considerable fortune in vintage comic books and vinyl LPs, not to mention the publishing rights to Flatlander's various literary experiments and memoires. The whole package, once lawyer fees are settled, should come to enough to buy a large box of premium Cuban cigars for myself, and some nice, Sussex Slipcote cheese for Maskatron's diary transubstantiator drive.


So then, stare into my Magic Mirror of Self-Forgetting, and find yourself transported to distant lands and times, which yet remain hauntingly familiar, as if you have seen them before--perhaps in half-forgotten dreams. Stare deeply into the looking glass and see yourself as you might have been, or may yet be, behind the masks we all ware in our various naviations of the realms of art and artiface.



Blogger Mint Tea Mystic said...

Beware, oh Enemies of Free Thought. The steadfast guardian of the fruits you seek has returned from the bowels of hell to oppose your reign.

5:40 PM  
Blogger Gyrobo said...

What he said.

5:56 AM  

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