QuantumFog

January 9, 2006

The vicissitudes of ethereal bliss

Seeking to transcend the low-bandwidth of everyday existentialism, my attention turns to meditation. Stilling the mind provides the means of spiritual self-centering, focus and the occasional out-of-body experience, referred to in the trade as an oobe. Adrift in this meditative gestalt of time and space (as opposed to snorkeling in the quantum foam of reality), the spirit wafts about while noting there are no toes to stub and you can't give a serious noogie.

Navigating this linear slipstream of random events to find eternal truths, we discover activities that require mention.

I foresee a time when a leader of Christian conservatives will give voice to assassination and will later claim the equivalent of an intellectual lap dance with God. Signals emanating from a local singularity state that Pat Robertson has achieved the scientific grail of creating a non-dimensional zero point, containing only Pat Robertson. The problem is, since everything is in the same place, he's starting to talk out of his ass.

Smaller than a laptop, larger than a cellphone

Returning to the meditative state, my reentry into corporeal reality revealed that I had taken a wrong turn on the karma trail. With all the hyperdimensional twists and turns you would think somebody would put up road signs. Suddenly, I had antlers and sought the acquaintance of a devastatingly beautiful female moose just outside of Bangor, Maine.

I lifted my head and bellowed, but all I could do was wax technocentric and announce we should be wearing our own computers while communicating via ubiqitous network connections (which is a mouthful for any moose).

A cauldron, a baptismal tub, homemade chili. I was beginning to see a pattern....

The last thing I remember as a drooling tetrapod was looking to the left as I stood in the middle of state highway 38. Didn't even feel it.

Again, drifting towards the ethereal plane, I gave my passing regards to the moosemeat and the truck driver. Enroute to my next destination, several topics of conversation were overheard regarding the theft of ...what the...Whoa!

My very soul! Snatched by a passel of Mormons during a baptism ritual for the deceased!

As I gathered my wits and checked my pockets, Anne Frank tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Don't get excited, but look who's here." Elvis, Einstein, Ed Sullivan. A lot of Popes. Thousands of others. Jewish rabbi's from the holocaust, boy are they incensed.

Since time no longer has meaning no one can tell how long we've been standing around slackjawed at this turn of events. I look up at the clock on the belltower and see that it reads "Now". That means there can't be a sequence to events since they all happen simultaneously.

So, I can't be confused as a result of what happened.

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