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"For a cloud had swarmed. Nothing was there, merely a mudball covered in ants. The world had ceased, and all above him had vanquished their glory. Mere gnats of men, they had come to him and requested high. But naught would favor this remedy, for weak was the skin and sallow was the eye. Many incarnations had passed until this, the moment the scion regaled his adventure, but no one knew who he was... The world had swarmed, and mudballs ceased, but one notion remained ascertained. Who...was...he? This man he was, was he high, was he loquacious, was he of this world? For naught knew,  for naught knew himself." Nobodies 4:11

"The flames course through me, a hallowed reed, all wisdom burns through me I need. The flames of Aiya, the bawling light, what we call  love shall conquer night." Aeterna 4:11

"The horses and the carts broke down before they made it out of town Tell me what you're going to do When no more kids are scared of you Flick the finger flick the ring Takes more than this to be a king The looking glass is clear and true Look what time has done to you Bring the horse and bring the bull All you do is void and null Tell me what you're going to do When mockingbird here sings to you Sing back to your hearts delight You'll learn a thing or two by night When this happens tried and true There will be nothing left of you " *a response to 'Hush Little Baby'

"Some good advice: Don't look at someone anywhere but in their eyes, Don't speak with a false voice, Don't use excuses to justify crimes, Don't blame others for your own poverty, Don't project your flaws upon others, Don't act rich when you're not, Don't be a traitor to your country, Don't take credit for someone else's achievements, Don't say anything that doesn't make sense ever again." Bahama 4:06

"What possesses thou that thou speak to me so? Dost thou cast thine eyes upon mine in such a strange ilk and manner? Thou hast lost thy mind to such chanting, for only to speak thy name is to speak of timid tigers. Dost thou fight, or dost thou whimper? Why dost thou cringe on look, except to offer thine love with thine wretched hearts? Only then, dost thou timid tigers anger! For thou art fools, and not tigers, to think thyself stranger and yet kin. For what dost thou do, who dost thou know? Only chants and mantras of weakened fools. " Timid 4:11

"We are in this, this emblem here, to profit of it. This life we live. There is naught else to us. For we will assuage them, gimmick their souls, profligate their minds with propaganda, and tell them Us, what we are. For we are but Gods..." Asif 4:11

" Two doctors worked away in a laboratory, bent over instruments and vials, inspecting lab mice as they scurried about. "Look at him run!" The doctor pointed wildly at his partner and laughed as the laboratory mouse hurried under an alcove in the maze. 'We've got him now!' The second doctor, an older man in his late seventies, rolled his eyes and sighed. 'It's our job, Copernicus. You know, you should really watch how much fun you have with these exercises.' 'Exercises, huh?' Copernicus laughed. 'Webster, you old geek, why don't you have more fun with it. It's our job!' Webster sighed again and set down his clipboard, rubbing his eyes and trying to recover from his research partner's exuberance. Webster spoke again, cleaning his glasses and peering over them at the other man. 'The mice represent something, Copernicus. They're alive. Why don't you respect that? Why don't you understand it? This is important work. Try to keep up.' Copernicus looked shocked for a second, then laughed loudly. 'Whatever you say, old man. Let's just try to keep it interesting!" He straightened his lab coat with a snap and pretended to be busy with his charts. That day, as every other day, the mice had swept through the maze being offered cheeses, treats, pellets, really anything their hearts would desire. Then, the trap would spring. Right over their head, right through their chest or stomach, the mice died in horrible ways. Copernicus had seemed a little too enthralled by the destruction... Webster gathered the surviving mice out of the maze and ushered them back into their cage, done for the day. Chattering and squeaking, the mice sniffed around, glad for a reprieve. Webster grabbed his coat and exited the lab with a distant demeanor. With an evil glance, Copernicus sneered at him and stormed over to the cage."

"Three men in dark trench coats walked into a crowded city square. They took in their surroundings, the many people milling about the glowing symbols of an industrial age, as dusk settled. The men stopped on a street corner, lighting cigarettes in the cold wind. Their eyes scanned from one person to the next, then back to each other, as they thought to themselves in keen words. The first man spoke, his hooded eyes drifting amongst the crowd... ' The furious din. The mumbling and tumbling of a wrought, open paradise. Only then will they come; only then will they show their teeth. Only then will they know it...' His comrade shrugged and responded, eyes sweeping the neon scenery. 'That it was safe. For the fire had gone away, and all was calm and strong on the inside. The jungle was tamed, and no one knows himself. The furious flames have flickered, and the people have swept away their pride. No one knows him, and royalty long forgotten has tamed the evil prince. The gears and cogs of society do churn, though the hollow faces of men know not. Their pride long forgotten; the souls of weakened men patrol the streets looking for yet misery to tear asunder.' The first man spoke again, staring at a tall, glowing orange clock tower in the distance. 'A time and age of chaos, only kings and men know of the foul witches that haunt them. The soul is gone, the spirit burns, and madness is rampant in the faces of the masses. Their suffering long past, no one knows these men as kin. Nothing is left but the stink of their cleaved flesh as they pass around their misery in horrible, mindless swarms. The wounds are deep, and nothing seethes in their minds but hate and the agony of what they once were.' The third man, silent until now, shifted uncomfortably, his knowing eyes dropping with a strange menace. He uttered with haste, as the shop beams from the square started to cut through the night. 'These men are lambs, not lions, though they roar with all their might. There is nothing but mindlessness and hate. These are the living dead.   Only then will they know it...' The three men gazed at the darkened skyline. Their work was done. Thoughtfully, they turned away, their trench coats to the cold wind. They walked into the night without being noticed by the crowd."

"The group had walked through the woods, lit by a lantern, on their way to a mellow campsite just over the ridge. Laughing and chanting, they had assumed no rest in their pursuit of glory and happiness that day. They approached the campsite, bugs buzzing around them, at a dusky hour with the sun well below the horizon. The group was varied, eleven eclectic strangers all suited in their various fashions and ways. They had reached the campsite, taking their seats on four logs surrounding a wooden stake. The stake now held the lantern squarely as it swayed gently in the soft breeze. The friends sat and talked glory; the lantern illuminated their faces and bodies with a rhythmical glow that seemed to betray the night itself. Eventually the conversations died down, as the eleven friends sat shoulder to shoulder facing the strange flickering. As time passed, the group was still aglow from the light of the burning lamp. Seemingly no one had noticed the time passing by, and a strange sensation had come over their faces since earlier that day. Almost thoughtless, the friend's conversation had died to a dull murmur. Even their thoughts seemed to have drifted, far away from the woods and the ridge to another ethereal realm. Helplessly, they looked into the flickering of the burning lantern with a glazed look in their eyes. Who were they? Why were they there? Why had they gone out there that day? Why, on Earth, had the conversation died some two hours ago and they were still studying this rotten lamp? An abrupt cry was heard. The members of the group looked about. One of them, a young man with a mustache, had been stabbed by the man next to him. Greedily, wildly, the assailant looked around. No one reacted, as a look of horror swept across a pretty young girl's face across the lantern from him. Then they fell silent as the glow of the lantern swept over them, yet again."

"A hurried conversation ensued, two men huddled outside of a rundown metaphysical chapel on a cold, windy night. There weren't many people about, only a few stragglers here and there in the distance, going back and forth, obeying the wind. A conversation began... ' There's something in the water. The belief without knowing is too strong. The obedience without thought is too rigid. What have we to do, Bryant?' 'There is naught else, Chester. We must abide. The soma of the masses is upon us. We must take it upon ourselves, and at this time." 'But why would one believe and obey? They are but tantrums that sundry us, nothing but catalytic forms of greed and starvation, lewdness and chastity, all at the same time. Dear Bryant, have you lost your nerve to that we must conquer?' 'No, for I am stolid. No, for I am strong. No, for the fact that I have two hearts instead of one. Do you not see that I am a man, a man who must obey and believe, as I have been told? They tell me to have strength, so I do. Surely, Chester, you would drink of this chalice, too?' 'Half-hearted I am, dear Bryant, for your strength has outweighed my own. This chalice is yours, and the cloudy water within as well. For I believe what I know, and I obey when I feel it. Bryant? Are you there?' A strong gust blew past Chester, as he looked about for a sign of his comrade. Bryant was gone, lost suddenly to the darkness. The wind howled; Chester grimaced as he walked away. A rain started pouring, softly spattering off the statues beyond."