Oolo IV Wishes All and Sundry a Merry Samhain!

Excelsior Mathenatrix Prime of the Tunarian Lodge

Merry Samhain and a Happy Day of Morte to all the young and old Tunarians out in the electronical world! Join us tonight when the twelve bells ring for traditional Samhain Caroling live, via optical wireless, from Tunarian Hall in The Floating City with Aleistina Font and the Tunarian Tabernacle Choir! All hail the beneficent Chichen Itza of the Sea, scourge of the Kraken!

More Scattered-About Thoughts of Dave Dimp, Our Ebullient Blogstarian

On the Other Hand...

I just looked at all the postings below me and I still think they're just plain goofy, but the frog is cute as a bubba! My favorite optical wireless program Scarfleet was on just a few moments ago, a rerun again, but one of the best ones: the one where Captain Lee Muir (played by the so-so third "Captain" Duke Alphonzo Spaghettio) has to go back to his home-world to battle the giant pie-a-saurus on Pie Mountain. I made a scrumptious rust-custard and dug out the old flannel galoshes just to get comfortable. I have no idea what the Man in the White Mansion is saying anymore because his accent is so thick I could cut it with a sponge; and what about those Socks? What about them? Socks! My cat Frisky just loves socks. Frisky is a ninety-year-old Mottled Lemurian Spindlepoot--a rare breed indeed! I'll have to post a picture of Frisky soon! The Persians can eat spam, not Frisky. A poem about how distraught I am about distressing things today. I call it White Mansion Man and it goes like this: White Mansion Man--how can you can--not do the plan--of Xanadu--in a can-oe--and Shiny Dick too--foo! The audience loved this when I read it at the Free Parking Poe-tree Dunk in Portville last weekend. Krystal Parking was wrongfully jailed for top-ecological activism! Kraken killers are causing Global Warping; the interlocked tentacles keep Erde's "floor" from buckling! Save the Kraken! Have a darn nice Dave.

More Inter-Knit Familiarities!

Press Upon the Hop-Frog for Nauseating Wonders!

Anxious to have your pony drop poundage? Press upon the hop-frog! Concerned over the odor of your aquarium stool? Apply virtual finger to the hop-frog! Flippant? The hop-frog, if tickled by the crafty "mouse," shall solve your fickle dilemma! Need "companionship?" Ah, the hop-frog is your best bet, better than a hearse even! Merely click upon the green It and be conveyed--lightning-like--to chintzy mercantile Paradises-upon-Erde! There, now perhaps we shall introduce popping-up froggies too and other whiz-bang joys of the electronical information era! Oh yes, gad, and Linx of course--sending you straightaway to other fabulous blogs! Mein Gott! Is there no end to the blisses of modern life!

Hello! I'm Dave Dimp and I'll be your Blogster Tonight!

All my Deepest Thoughts, my Inner Dreams, my very Soles

Golly! I just stayed up the whole night long reading all the posts below me and I must confess that they seemed to be pretty durned nutty! Well, maybe it wasn't all the night because I took an hour out to watch my favorite cable optical wireless show, Starfark (or was it Farstark?). Anyway, it was a rerun but a real good one: the one where Captain Lemur (played by Ernst Buffoonavich, not the awful first Captain played by La Spontaine--the Texican wrestler) goes back to his home planet to talk to his mother about the Bezorque pie ritual. This is a special episode for Starfark fans as it was all filmed upside down and in slow motion with split P-screen! I love to eat pudding while watching Starfark and usually I make up a big batch of tapioca. Then I get out my Starfark slippers. They're not licensed Starfark product, just regular slippers I purchased for 3 francs at Waal-Its. I wear them when I watch the show, just so my feet will be comfortable. Today I checked the news and everyone's still upset about the King of Persia saying that Phoenicia should go away down the drains. His followers burned Phoenician dry goods and postage stamps. Also all those people hurt up in the hills of Angorra when the Erde split open and that big monster came out! It took 500 autogyros to drive it away it said. 500! That's a lot of autogyros. Got nothing but junk and canned spam in the mail today; free samples of meats and puddings are a bad thing I think because they can transmit the Bat Wiggles, that awful disease that's sweeping the floors of Erde right now. How about the Man in the White Mansion? He said something that made me so darned mad! Well, I have to go and floss, but I'll be back to write more about the little grub-like thoughts that creep and crawl around behind my swollen eyeballs...later! Have a nice Dave!

Director Zliplitt on Blogs Yet Again...

Our Merry Director of Public Assuagement

Yielding to the demands of the public whims and dour economics we at the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries shall struggle, now and then, to simulate the outward appearances of the common Blog, to wit (in this posting) a selection of typical puerile bloggish scribblings. I, Director Zliplitt, shall toss in the first ball only this time with an assortment of infantile observations and bon mots.

1. Oh my, oh my! The current occupant of the White Mansion in our nation's capitol is certainly a buffoon and charlatan! Gee gollicky! Fresh news to sympathizers!
2. A poem-ical utterance: Laying upon my unmade-up bed, I stare benumbed at a bare illuminatory fixture, a glass bulb burned out; and wonder to myself as quiet as a dead raccoon, if I have taken my prescription yet this hour--I dream of skulls and black candles and spooky doings and surely all love is lost, as Glenn my truest and dearest has left my side to hang about with Doreen.
3. The "savior" spoken and written of in our particular quaint set of beliefs truly wishes for you to abstain from intimate encounters or any other sorts of "fun" because he may have written so in a musty old book or other some thousands of years ago! Follow my rantings not and risk suffering eternal torment in some kitchen oven or basement furnace!
4. Have I informed you of the current goings-on of my feline companion Frisky? I shall add another 40 photographs of the dearest to this site, supplementing the 500 already existing here. What fool would not possess intense interest in Frisky?
5. Herein is the first chapter of my life story: I was born in a small town in the midst of nowhere and although nothing of significance happened between that august happening and the present moment, I shall endeavor to consume several hundred pages of electronical foolscap in conveying the infinitude of banalities contained within that span.
6. Surely you lay awake wondering who my favorite lifestyle musicians could be? They are the Pus Pipes, a quartet of angst-ridden females who perpetually express my innermost thoughts and moanings as if by para-psychological suction!
7. Attend me closely and learn the ancient secrets of ballgame card collecting!
8. I am most insensed at those people who do not share my shallow and poorly worked-out social and political attitudes! They should all be herded together and placed in encampments where they will learn better and correcter thoughts more aligned with my own!
9. Attention! Diminutive greyish beings flying about in strange interstellar craft may be the true cause of your nightly yearnings for snacks and/or painful rear-ward itch! Beware diminutive greyish beings at all expense!
10. I was most appalled by the recent made-for-optical-wireless moving pictures, Socks and Wax, because the lady miming the Socks character is an actress I vehemently disapprove of!

It is my earnest desire that all are satisfied for the moment with this abbreviated smorgasbord of pap-like sustenance. The task is now Your Blogster Dave Dimp's and you shall meet him shortly, fortunate fools. Dave was impaled in the noggin some time ago with a large chunk of schist and gustily enjoys such responsibilities. He is a veritable bleeding cornucopia of triviality. I retire as I have real works to manage.

Portville Port-o-Dome Sports Arena and Sewage Treatment Plant "Sports" Free Parking

Architeuct's Model of Port-o-Dome Sports-Sewage Complex/Natatorium

Burgermeistress Affoline Fitzhugh, working with the Portville Chamber of Parking, is asking the Portville Star Chamber to make parking at the future Port-o-Dome free of cost to sports fans and sewage enthusiasts. This is to be part of Portville's massive Free Parking campaign. The roofless natatorium (To be called Emperor's Notions National Natatorium)--as can be seen from the model--possesses a record quantity of combined swimming lanes/showers (48).

Portville Chamber of Parking Touts Free Parking with Stupendous Flying Hoarding

The "Hindenboard"

The Portville Chamber of Parking, an organization dedicated to the promotion of local business development, has created an imaginative 200 meter-long airborne advertisement, alerting consumers to the benefits of shopping within the environs of downtown Portville. If successful, the Prime Minister claims he may be interested in using this subtle and novel psychological technique to gain adherents to some of his less popular programs like the Struggle against Autistic-Horrorism in Puta Babylon and Phoenicia.

Sawfish Tapped for Kraken Challenge

Clearing Way for Eventual Abyss Navigation?

Tasked with finding a method by which surface and submarine vessels may safely ply the waters of the various unnavigable Erden Watery Abysses, the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries is exploring the application of schools of trained saw-fish to clear shipping lanes through zones of Kraken. If the method works, surface ships and submarines may be modified to haul cargo and passengers (although it's unlikely many would care to travel that terrifying way!) directly across the Abysses. At the moment they are restricted to coastal waters, the shallows between closely spaced islands, and the Bering Straight (Nippon, however, has been exploring the use of supersonic hydrofoils able to outpace even the fastest of the enormous and deadly cephalopods). The Abysses extend over more than 3/4 of Erde's Surface--the Polykneesional Abyss alone occupies nearly half of Erde--but these unimaginably vast regions remain largely unexplored to this day due to the Kraken menace. Several isolated inhabited areas, such as Cthululand, are only accessible by air or orbit. [Histofactoids: Attempts to navigate the Abysses through history have invariably ended in tragedy and disaster. In 1490, Christobel Colombo led an armada of enormous spiked iron vessels armed with primitive electric guns and orgone depth charges and attempted to sail to Aztekia, till then only reachable by dirigible. Two of the twenty-five ships, the Pinta and the Jubjub Vogel, reached the Aztekian port of Neuschleswig, badly battered and with almost 80% of their crews missing. Survivors reported seeing a raging Colombo hauled from the flagship, the Santa Klarharn, and devoured by an estimated five-hundred-meter-long Kraken. In 1939, a determined tribe of Kraken broke through the titanium Kraken nets at the Pillars of Hercules and gained access to the Roman Inland Sea. This action resulted in the Second Great War, a cephalopod-human conflict that lasted four years until the Sunbomb was developed and used operationally. The Roman Inland Sea, to this day, is still darkened with Kraken ink]

Fearless Forces Face Fearsome Foo!

Secretary of State and Chief of Staff at Aberdeen Testing Grounds

The Imperial Secretary of State, Padoola "Rice" Puddin, and Imperial Chief of Staff Horst Steinklavier pose with our latest non-lethal bit of psy-ops weaponry, the Aroogah Gun--developed by the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries. The Aroogah Gun similates the taunting sound of an early-vintage horseless carriage horn (specifically, from a 1923 Studebaker), a sound Autistic-Horrorists associate with direct challenges to their masculinity. This noise so-enrages the Autistic-Horrorists that they willy-nilly charge out of their holes and nests directly into the waiting arms of psychopolitical counselors and bag-men (and sack-women!). The Aroogah Gun may even be utilized to relocate huge populations of psychopoliticized males and the sexually stressed; tied to the roof of an iron horseless carriage it could be a Pied Piper for a new era for mankind. This amazing weapon came from the Mt. Palomine research section known popularly as The Geschtinky-Werke--the same secret weapons center that gave us the Tin Butler, Jibbergasse, the Hula-noose, and Stealth Feet.

Institute to Engage in Echo World Disinformation "For the Fun of It!"

First in Series of Bullshitte Text Books to be Dumped on "Urth" Universities

As part of a projected long series of cruelly enjoyable experiments or practical jokes, "Der Peeper" researchers are preparing to dump textbooks of completely made-up history on our Echo World higher education students to see if--as the Professor put it between guffaws--anyone notices or even cares.

A View of Portville--Parking Galore!

People Parking in Portville

It's another just fairly sumptuous afternoon in bustling downtown Portville, Narragansett National District--the glibbering jewel of the Northern Watery Abyss National Districts. The Floating City may be the Capital of Sorts, but Portville is clearly the hub of the Empire, praised Erde-wide for its wide boulevards and ample parking. Speaking of Parking in Portville, it's free, and has been since the Empress's famed Parking Edict of 1992; an edict that each Bisolstice is celebrated with a huge parked parade and fireworks. People from around Erde, from every nation and even the other planets, drive to Portville just to park! Above we see many, many professional parkers who have parked their roadsters and limousines, again, we remind you, at absolutely no cost to the driver or to any other passengers. One caution though, car alarm systems are not allowed to be active within the city limits. A few whoop, whoop, ding-dong, buzza-buzza, step-away-from-the-cars, and your naughty horseless carriage will be towed to the towering Chalk Cliffs of Pongo and joyfuly pushed into the Northern Watery Abyss to be shreaded by young Kraken! Welcome to the dark underbelly of Parking in Portville!

Prof. Pille Notes Near-Infinity of Clown Photos Provides Endless Fuel for Simpleminded Echo World Humor

The Twenty-One Injustices of the "Urth" Supreme Court--Chief Injustice is in Fez

Above, oh jolly citizens, we observe the "Twenty-One Injustices" of the Echo World Supreme Court. The Chief Injustice or Wampa-loola can be seen in Fez, which apparently as best as we may gather, is located in the Echo World nation of Moor-Rocco (an Iberian mob fiefdom) or perhaps Mo' Rocco (a competing gangsta Urbanian fiefdom we believe). It is assumed that the 21 Injustices serve as a counterweight to the 12 Steppes, the 16 Klan-dells, and the 33 and 1/3 Revolutions--other powerful political and conspiratorial organizations within the Echo World bureaucracy. We at the Institute are still attempting to sort this upside-down culture out! "Urth" is so bizarre that the bulk of its inhabitants would be hard-pressed to know if the number of our count of justices is correct or if such a place or hat as Fez even exists--making our job so very difficult. Many would wonder for an attention-depleted instant about this "Supreme Court" itself--the entire Echo World is peopled with folks who lack any attention-span whatsoever. We are all here at the Mt. Palomine Institute injuring our internals with all the unleashed laughter--such is the uproarious Echo World!

Meeting of Mt. Palomine Institute Central Committee

A Vast Gathering of Loyal and Productive Institutionalist Rubberstampers

The Central Committee of the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries held the opening meeting of its annual assembly today at the Port-o-dome in the city of Portville (when not used for conventions, the Port-o-dome is home to the Portville Penuches ballteam and sometimes serves as the city's sewage treatment plant). Loyal scientists, philosophers, and academics from across the Empire join together as brothers and sisters to proclaim their unbounded enthusiasm for the enlightened progressive policies of Institute Chairperson Professor Antonio Pille or some such banana-oil!

Doktors turn "Der Peeper" on "Urth" and get an Eyeball-Full

Dim View of "Congress"

In what certainly promises to be a tidal-wave of humorous pictorials, our budget-conscious Institute creators of the magical dimensional viewing device delved into the Echo World of our own beloved Erde and up-Urthed this first view--a somewhat vaguely limned shot of members of the governing body of that wack-a-doodle world. The Institute will supply photos and additional information as it all becomes unleashed.

A Supercilious Phantasm, a Bespooked Night-Mare!

George Frideric Knucklehead-if You Enquire with Me!

[Professor Pille "breaks-frame," enters the Echo World for a brief rendezvous, and publishes there his review of Nikolaus Harnoncourt's recording of Handel's Messiah posted upon the Echo World Amazon site and in response or mirroring to the equally bombastic yet utterly serious rant posted there by one Dr Jacques Courladeau]

Handel Messiah--Concentus Musicus Wien, Harnoncourt-an Evisceration

Upon applying my auricular appurtenances to the appraisal of this specific rendering of the notorious, antiquated, and hyperbolic-ally flatulent pseudo-masterpiece of one G. Handel, this humble listener is at a catastrophic loss to apprehend in even the most brain-absent insectoid manner the alleged scintillating attributes of the composition at hand, the purported and varied merits of its so-called interpretation as provided here through the compact disc medium, and the pencil-like point of the entire execrable endeavor. What confronts and confounds this amply-hardened listener is a mere series of "numbers," mumblings, and over-reaching tunes; loud brayings and exhibitions; and hootings, hollerings, and trumpetings (both real and alluded to) attempting in the most schoolboy-amateurish way, as it were, and in an emboldened excessive abandonment of priceless leisure hours, to extol--musically, if one could credit it--the merits of some bobbling, belching, historical child or other, born on the dusty grounds and within the confines of a common milk cow-barn! Why such soporifically banal events as the slap-stick antics of a pair of common Semitic suburbanites with their birthing quandary, their astounding encounters with flickering streetlights and besotted Wise-Guys, and all the particulars of the life of the babe--up to and including a last second epiphany of carpentry--should warrant the usage of substantial monies and unbridled artistic forces unequalled in these modern times is a full-tilt toboggan ride of a conundrum to any and all vaguely semi-conscious men. As the abomination terminated with caterwauling choruses of Hallelujahs I too enjoined my voice for Truly and Hallelujah, the sickly musical behemoth had finally upended and passed! Such a tragedy that whilst in the hinterlands emaciated Chinese coolies dig for grubs with sticks, and shivering Eskimos send their cowering ancestors afloat and awash on Popsicles; whilst half the benumbed planet is without simple tin lunch pails or embroidered stockings, titanic, colossal, nay, near infinite towers of treasure are cast forever into the deepest dung pits in order to finance wholly worthless enterprises such as these. I am aghast and appalled!

Institute Scholars Confront Kristaluthians on Dating Controversy

Roman Philosopher Pilate

The Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries is prepared to present evidence to the Erde Court at The Haug substantiating the widely-accepted belief that the calendar currently in use Erde-wide does date from the birth of the illustrious Roman philosopher Pilate, not from the historically earlier birth of the Kristaluthian cult prophet lumberjack who one day got the surprise of his life. Pilate was a Roman governor of what is now known as Western Puta Babylonia; he resigned from his Imperial Office rather suddenly one Friedesday afternoon, jogged like a demon back to Rometown, and wrote his eternal masterpiece, Belle et Pacem.

Luella Robotroast Awarded Belle Prize for Epicry

Luella Robotroast with her Empress's Lead Hatt (1996)

The Sverghish Government Awards Office announced to mediums today that the coveted Belle Prize for Epicry has been awarded to lifelong Seminole National Distict resident Luella Robotroast. Frau Robotroast, born 1937, published her first epic, The 10,000 Kilometer Beach, in 1957 at the age of twenty and the youthful masterwork received an enthusiastic critical reception; the Floating City Review of Epics named it the greatest epic of that decade . The 10,000 Kilometer Beach was adapted to moving picture the following year and won 8 Omphalahs, including Longest Moving Picture-1959. Since the late Fifties she has published over fourteen epics, among them such familiar and ever-popular titles as My Limbs are too Abbreviated to Fisticuff with Wotan (1967), Cirrusbusters! (1973), Herr Doktor Chicago National District (1980), the controversial meurtre scary, The Cruci-factor (1987), and the well-loved children's classic, Loki's Diary (1991). Most of Frau Robotroast's works have been adapted for moving picture and Cirrusbusters! was even a highly successful River-Strasse musical that ran for twenty solstices (and nearly 22 hours per performance). Loki's Diary is currently both an epic and moving picture series with the recently published Loki's Diary IV--Quest for the World-Tree scheduled for moving picture release in 2007. A rendering of her lesser known and somewhat experimental Grains of Mann (1962) is in production at the time of this notice. Frau Robotroast has garnered numberless other awards and honors and was presented with the prestigious Empress's Lead Hatt in 1996. The Belle Prize includes a cash award of 25,000 francs which Frau Robotroast--an outspoken top-ecological activist--intends to donate to the Global Warping Campaign. Frau Robotroast is also a First Elder Mathenatrix of the Tunarian Lodges.

Horrid Corporealate Sponge as You Ask For-ed!

Maximum-lyke Ugly Topological Interfacial Surface--Yuch!

Hel-lo yet more--Children's Editor Jayneslyke Julianus here again return-ed. Many many requests from curiosical kindergarteners maybe too fascinate-ed bym spooky-lyke doings and ugly-lyke monsters this Samhain tyme! Boo! Above--praise Wotan--bym not a true Corporealate Sponge (as all wurm long gone over 65 million years past)--only a manufacture-ed dead image...yet, still frightening-lyke. See on it the topological Omniverse interface of many holes and dark passages where all worthwhile and truly-lyke-able valuables would bym suck-ed up lyke a village rue-strasse vacuum engine (or poisons and venoms forc-ed out lyke with fire-wagon hose). Within sponge would bym an icy soulless mind lyke a contraption, processing only in whole and rational numbers and straighten-ed lines, and eyeballing Omniverse as just Thing-to-Eat-or-Hurt through fix-ed dimension holes! Scarier even, Corporealate Sponge bym more manifestation-of-concept than a true creature as in manifestation of spirit. Whole species of pseudo-Autistic-Horrorists--Mon Deu! Corporealate Sponges cooperate-ed with themselves only algebraically and only if morm "food" or "anti-food" (mean emotional back-brain excressences lyke "hate" and "rage") could bym gain-ed or up-ed a nitch, and then they would form--using Lawbsters as needed bio-cribmaids--huge Omnivorous Corporealations of Sponges much like a bobbulous Blob-Monster from optical wireless scaries. This is all where wym got unflattering-lyke expression: "Think lyke Sponge." Hope all my young friends out-looking-in through the elect-trickle medium are now very very happy-lyke! Irony! Ugh! [P-osterior S-cript: There bym much much concern about Sponges found on Thor but Institute scientists say they seem bym de-volv-ed Thor inhabitants specialize-ed to suckup only other Sponges and no threat-ed to us as they can now not even eat or eyeball outside their own sad tiny box-like universes. Not to worry unless you mayhaps think lyke sponge! Te-he!]

A Lovely View of the Moontown

Happy-Go-Lucky Life on D'anna, our "Moon"

A rapid transit conveyance (Astra-moonaut-o-bus) pauses for an equally rapid photo whilst in the background the 1pm robotical Imperial Mail Express "blasts-off" for Erde --and directly on schedule! Within seconds the racing rocket will exit through the D'anna-Dome automated airlock and vault out into the infinity of space. Fret not dear reader, the dense and billowy exhaust is an in-combustion complex carbon molecule conversion to a manner of healthy fertilizer and the flight path has been cunningly plotted over farmland; every mail delivery makes for bulkier and tastier cabbages! The passengers on number 63 are voyaging to the Satyrday ballgame at Moontown's Crater Park--today's challenge being between the home-team Moontown Jamskunks and the Mare Tempesta Chocolate Waffles. Baseball on our sister world is reputed to be quite the endeavor with gravity only 40% (...and only slowly rising, Herr D'anna Commissioner Hembricks!) of Erde's. A home run "knocked beyond the park" twelve years ago recently went into orbit around Venus. Hel-lo commuters, best hustle on up now so you'll have leisure to purchase your mug of mead and a crowdog before the first pitch. Low gravity economies have their advantages--a crowdog on D'anna costs only 2 francs!

Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries Unveils Dimensional Cross-Eavesdropper

A Peep Into Zany Daily Life on our Sideways Echo Planet

Using a paltry 50 francs worth of bric-a-brac, the innards of a disused magic lantern, and a mop handle...along with primary scientific principles so after-fact obvious that one could shed tears, Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries Doktors Rey Marzipan and Georgaphies Gleener have assembled an infra-dimensional optical port-way into the Echo Planet that is to our immediate Spin-Left. The mechanism is so stupefyingly child-like the Institute will not be troubled to obtain Imperial Exclusionaries on its manufacture, but otherwise will make available instructions and plans in next month's number of the Imperial Youth-Scout Magazine. The Echo Planet viewed by this novel "toy" bears strong outward similarities to our own in some ways, as philo-dimensionalists have maintained since the famed Parallelicity Theorum (P+[x+y+z]=n/3.6v) was first expostulated by van Arnum Sternbolt in 1910. This Echo World is a negative orgone "limprint" on the Omniverse, meaning it is a world where logical and ethical systems are per-mutated by a -45 degree rotation through the Fauber Space (hypothetical cognition space) of relativistic relationships. The Erde Echo Planet (called Urth by its kooky inhabitants) should prove educational for many ethics, economistics, and psychopolitical students...and, of course, the young! Doktors Marzipan and Gleener created the device accidentally while hoping to cobble-together a 3D kaleidoscope during their breaks. The invention will be known officiously as the Marzipan-Gleener Echoscope or colloquially as "Der Peeper." Doktor Gleener claimed that physical access to this topsy-turvy Echo World may eventually be made possible through a use of the still-to-be-built National Orgone Accelerator.

Corporealate Sponges Explained by Children's Editor Jayneslyke Julianus

Jayneslyke Julianus--Children's Editor

Hel-lo all. We have receive-ed very many very nice inquisitions from the fellow small kindergarteners who oftentimes on rainy days read our posts as study. They are curiousical about the mani-syllable term we use-ed--Corporealate Sponges--in this article which is previous-lyke here beseen. Corporealate Sponges wurm life-types that 65 million years ago destroy-ed the Great Race of Dinorapts--the scal-ed people who liv-ed and built-ed up-upon Erde long ages before Wotan did make to "awakenin" the earlierest men-peoples and women-peoples. This they had accomplish-ed bym sucking up all life, joy, humor, and passion around-ed them and excreting toxic thoughts that made-ed the lovely Dinorapts and all their great and beautiful-lyke beasts sick and pass 'way. Having no-thing then to bother or use, the Corporealate Sponges languish-ed and finally-lyke pass-ed from Erde for all tyme unmourn-ed. We now fear-ed them no longer and play and learn in National District of Pacem, praise Wotan! Perhaps soon a photo of horrid things.

Thor Explorers Send Photos of Boring Dead Planet

Wiggly Bones of a World Gone Softie

The archaeological team headed by Institute luminaries Frau Doktors Norissa Tuck and Evangelina Serrestostia informed their mission controllers today via optical wireless that while research work continues doggedly on the desolate and absolutely depressing nearby planet, there is little understanding of exactly what kind of catastrophe overwhelmed and destroyed the Thoracic peoples. Concern, however, exists over the multiplicity of barren and unimaginative cultural artifacts--habitats consisting of child-like shapes made of crude and unfriendly materials, unsubtle aggressive or anonymous looking vehicles, and virtually no decorative, humorous, ironic, fantastical, or elegant arts. Worse, it would appear that all that could even conceivably be judged artful had been replaced at some earlier time with brute and superficial commerce. Ruminating upon from the evidence in the photo above (just one of a dreary and monotonous series we've eyeballed) the extinct "culture" had been in severe decline for many years before its fall; its people existed in a near granitic-age state of consciousness. Institute scientists speculate they would have had no measurable attention span and may have required endless infusions of hyperactive stimulation to function minimally. This would conform to newly developed exobiological theories that speculate major civilizations collapse from regression-of-consciousness rather than any other external factor--environmental, resource, or otherwise. Advanced races--as the theory would have it--always find means to adapt and maintain their necessary stimulations using, at worst, pure imagination. [For the uninformed, Thor is the nearest planet to our beloved Erde yet placed further outward from Sol. It is 97% the size of our world, and although distant from the central source of all life, maintains its highly seasonable temperatures due to a thick oxygen-rich atmosphere, vast oceans, and ample cloud-cover. Explorers report that it rains frequently--perhaps too much for their jolly sol-ish dispositions! No life has been found on the planet except for a vile species resembling our (mercifully) now-extinct Corporealate Sponge.]

Institute Scientist Cashiered for Constructing Immense Playing-Card Shuffleodeon

A "Bad Joke" Rapidly Loaded on Flying Machine, Flown to Norgepole, and Dumped from Great Height

The sacked scientist's name is Edmund Redveking so all may know him; the abomination above shown at the Portville Aerodrome before its final ignominious disposal, the Redveking Wist Be-Sorter and Shuffleodeon; the hospital where flowers and karten may be sent (praise Wotan, only the mildest of injuries--hundreds of minor paper-cuts--to staff and assistants), the Pongo Sanitarium. We feel the overall issues are self-evident and require no further elaboration.

First New D'anna "Moon" Iron Horse Leaves NALCO

Purposeful Power for Plush Planetary Passenger Purveyor

Slated for use on what will be the crack "Moon Express" (Moon is classical ancient sprache for D'anna) a Magneto Class 4-8-4 iron horse is seen crossing the Beothuk River in central Mohawk National District, a few kilometers from the National Locomotive Company erecting works in Schenectady, on its way to the equatorial Erde station in the Central Isthmus. While the iron horse may seem to be hauling its own train, it is in fact unsteamed (It cannot function in atmosphere) and being pulled behind a southbound train. Note the sealed cab to maintain constant internal air pressure.

A Brief Word or Two from Your Humble Savant: Professor Antonio Pille

Yes...Indeed...Myself Professor Pille (or a crude estimation) Holding Back--with Greatest Difficulty--the Laughter

Although I find myself frequently cordoned-off by practical matters from the privilege of injecting direct commentary into this increasingly illustrious electrical publication--mere wordsmithing minions and proofreading lackeys daily gussy-up and frame my colossal mental meanderings--the goings-on of this post-for-the-planet are hardly elsewhere removed from my thoughts. This, though the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries--my very spawn so-to-say--is currently enraptured in such stupendous bobbulations as the design of the new D'annic railway and the expostulations of the astounding "Time Jelly" phenomenon. This overworked overlord must admit (somewhat painfully) that the Mount Palomine Institute of Mysteries truly has over-grabbed our globe by the hands. Therefore, although my appearances may be short and vague (and true aspect tall and focused!), my hand-prints lay inevitably about-scattered through these splendorous pages.

Volcanotown, Yakima National District, Completes "Space Needles"

Needles Ready for 2006 Exposition!

The central-piece for the upcoming Volcanotown International Exposition, due to commence next Solstice, has reached completion. The Volcanotown Space Needles, as they are called, were conceived by famed native architect Francine O. Gehry, reknowned for her dashing neoliminalist stylings. The "needle" to the immediate right (of the above posted photo) celebrates the diplomatic mission to Venus, the center sports a statue (sculpted by Edmund Smutts) 0f D'anna and commemorates the construction of the first tentative exerimental railway to our moon, and our leftward architectural ascender honors the intrepid explorers of Thor (and its two mischievous little moons Hinckell and Jekyll); the discovers of the Lost Thoracic Civilization. Beneath the immense archway is a Ceelingwalker's "Zack" shoppe that will proffer visitors from all across Erde the thick rich and foamy brews made from the chz'uack bean--a Volcanotown specialty. "Zack" has become the popular hot agitating beverage throughout our nation; Ceelingwalker's assisted in funding the erection of the needles which with hopes and like Eiffel's Great Norman Wheel in Gaul, will remain as familiar image-markers for this Burgh.

Spinbunn Begins New Epic Moving Picture

Sandkind Awaiting Peptides

Director Styline Spinbunn, fresh from the National Optical Wireless Moving Pictures Awards Ceremony--where he received an Omphalah for his moving picture The Tearful Metabolist--is seen here setting up a shot for his upcoming moving picture adaptation of Luella Robotroast's lesser-known symbolist folk-epic poem Grains of Mann (we see depicted the director preparing the moment before the gargantuan peptide of Robotroast's story emerges from the primeval ooze) . While the final cut of The Tearful Metabolist was almost radicaliminally short--logging in at between 7 and 9 hours for most audiences--Grains of Mann promises a return to his traditional "Solstice Blockbuster" style and should be, at minimum, 18 hours in duration. It looks like another Omphalah may be his yet again!

Intelligence Chief "Worried"--Nation Moves to Fire-Wagon Red

Just an Odd Notion

Director of the Imperial Intelligence Office, Frau Doktor Anna Smelder-Blorgstrum, at today's weekly press debriefing, informed representatives of the various mediums and National Optical Wireless reporters that she was "deeply worried" about the way things were generally proceeding even though she "couldn't put [her] finger on precisely what the dilemma could allegedly be." "Judge it intuition if you will," she continued, "but I think the citizenry should all lock its doors and perhaps stay in tonight and just watch some variety shows on Optical Wireless." The Doktor, and her office, have had the jitters these last weeks, subsequently boosting the National Spectrum Advisory from a deep mauve to very nearly a fire-wagon red. The previous incident where I.I.O. posted near a primary color (Blue), the mid-central districts were beset with a rain of amphibians--frogs, newts, red efts, yellow-spotteds and (somewhat surprisingly) hell-benders--along with small cones of chalk. That event was traced directly to Loki and was merely an epiphenomenon of some Other Business. A decade previous, in a legendary near-calamity, the Director experienced mild dizziness and vapours, and mere hours later The Floating City pulled free of its moorings and careened aimlessly southward down the Eastern Coastline, very nearly colliding with several startled pleasure ships. It was brought to a halt through the heroic efforts of tribes of somewhat bemused migrating whales. Frau Doktor Smelder-Blorgstrum was appointed to the Directorship by the Empress in 1987.

Institute Notable Echos Concerns about Global Warping

Professor Jean Belmondo

In an article published in this month's issue of Tropical Topological Panoptical Topics, Professor Belmondo provides additional evidence for the growing belief that the surface of our world is gradually becoming increasingly topologically irregular. Through rigorous experimentation, Belmondo uncovered disturbing indications that while absolute distances between points (or towns or cities) have not altered, the measured times of travel are varying significantly. For example although The Floating City and Beamtun are exactly 383.62 kilometers apart, travel time between the two metropoli, at a fixed rate of 60 k.p.h. and along precisely the same roads, varies, at times, from between 6 to 10 hours. Although no clear connection can be made at this early date, there is speculation that the cause of Global Warping may be the increased use (since the early 1800's) of non-linear algebra as a method of calculating energy consumption. Worries abound that if the warping continues it could trigger a reciprocating phase of global woofing and our world could enter another catastrophic implosive Micro-Age.

Right and Left-Handed Mailplanes Developed for Uni-Dexterous

Photo of the left-handed version of the newly developed Imperial Postal Plane Mark VI designed to be used for mail deliveries in explicitly "handed" districts and in those on the Western Coast that are avowedly ambidexterous (since legalization). The novel flying machine is manufactured by Boeing at their assembly plant outside of Volcanotown in Yakima National District. Handedness enables the flying mail deliverer to better and more accurately reach the individual mailboxes, dramatically (we hope!) cutting down mis-deliveries. Boeing will create the right handed version by simply "flipping" the photo.

Baphomet Q'ung Still at Large for Audiences

Self-Styled "Fist of Baal" Sings

...and will be appearing at the Knickerbocker Dinner Theater in Dwillersbee Floats, Mohican National District next Thorsday through Satyrday in a production of the River-Strasse classic 1946 musical "CHEROKEE NATIONAL DISTRICT!" Q'ung is taking a break from his role as Baalist brigand/priest and ally to the detached Autistic-Horrorists. It is hoped by many that Q'ung will be able to satisfy his excessive "thirst" for attention through the legitimate theater. Here we see him preparing to rehearse the ever-popular number "Surry with the Fringe on Top." Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries Craniographers believe the possible cure for the debilitating (to its victims) mental illness known as General Political Psychosis (GPP) is increased opportunities for the afflicted to "act out" harmlessly and receive warm applause in return.

"Florida" Internet Service Offers to Improve Institute's Sagging Slices

Utterly Exhausted Bread

We have no idea! An entity that calls itself the Florida (perhaps Seminole National District?--it once was known anciently by pirates as Fiorydia) Internet Service has offered to improve our slices. Slices of what, we inquire? Mention is made of a "golf" and since Seminole National District is located in the Gulf region this is the only sensible connection we can make. But why would an internet service of S.N.D. wish to assist us in slicing up the Gulf? We feel we are over our heads in the arcane lingo of youth and judge ourselves victims of some juvenile sport, perhaps related to the recently bamboozled Texist insurrection of that region.

Director Zliplitt Again on the State of Blogs

I am currently sitting in the smallest room of my abode with printouts of your charming Blog responses and the inevitably-attached most sincere solicitations for budget dog-collars, snake lubricant, and vinyl siding before me. Soon they will be behind me. We at the Institute were keenly aware that any "rubbing of elbows" with the execrable Internet would entail social dealings more appropriate for the dusty and jabber-laden street markets of Mwaktkent, and intimate convivial interactions reminiscent of the lowest bordello (Your entire nation ever-more in its business, education and governance resembling such an establishment). Somehow, magically, miraculously, we easily resist temptations to insert our probosci between the comforting fleshy posterior orbs, or apply our tongues to the glistening upper surfaces of boots. We're cognizant that this means social ostracism but we are equally keenly aware that we have been, as some have said, "forcibly vomited from far better ale-houses." We plough ahead--Juggernaut-like--regardless.

The View of our Neighboring Planet--Not Cold Ice but Hot Glass!

A Shining Crystal Planet Full of Troubled Water

Imperial Meandering Group A has submitted yet another batch of striking images from Ishtar. In the above photo we see what we are told is a typical Ishtarian sunset with common silica trees in the background and natives racing by in one of their quaint cut-glass-crafts. The surface features and crystalline "fauna" of this intriguing world are almost entirely made up from remarkably pure molten sands of unknown origin; in the immediate left foreground are the tops of small crystaline dwellings. Beneath the nearly impenetrable glass surface is a planet-encircling sea of (it is assumed) water, averaging miles in depth. The ecosystems of the surface and the vast global ocean rarely interact as only an asteroid of sufficient size or kinetic energy is capable of piercing the thick "bubble." An event of this sort only occurs once every several million years or so and is the source of much surface-Ishtarian mythology--and not a few frightening bedtime stories! Natural observation spots exist scattered everywhere across the planet where the optically pure glass is only several meters thick and the peculiar life contained within the Vast Glass Orb that is Ishtar is easily--but not willingly--observed. While the visible surface of Ishtar can be astonishingly geophysically stable, riding as it does on the cushion of dark water, in stark contrast tremendous storms, chaos, cataclysms, and even hideous wars, rapine, massacres, and abominations of every sort can often be dimly made out directly beneath the very feet of the helpless and often horrified (yet thoroughly safe) surface dwellers. It is amongst the greatest taboos of the Ishtarians to acknowledge or discuss the more nightmarish activities frequently witnessed. While visitors from our own world find the planet Ishtar a startling (and often troubling) curiosity, the Ishtarians sadly admit that reciprocity is impossible as an Ishtarian would risk complete madness walking on an opaque planetary surface. To maintain sanity, they must be at all times keenly aware of what they should not be speaking or even thinking about.

Grand Imperial Rotation Upcoming

She's Ready for a Spin

Our Most Benevolent Empress will be quietly assuming her rotating Imperial Responsibilities shortly as the Emperor's glorious 13th ruling cycle draws to an end. There is much speculation within the mediums and along the banks of The Floating Capital regarding her varied attitudes, aspects, and inclinations toward the ongoing Struggle Against Autistic Horrorism. It is believed that the Empress is consulting with both Sub-irrational and Supra-liminal parliamentarians in the hope of arriving at a bi-partisan solution, and rumors indicate she even wishes to mollify the small Aggressivist minorities within our Districts who have been advocating ever sterner measures, including incarceration. The Empress has already made clear that while the Empire certainly has no issues, per se, with the three major Absolutist Deitist Movements of the Cedar Forests (as repulsive as we may find their incivility and intolerance) she will not exclude the Final Solution of dimensional relocation if their followers continue antisocial behavior, largely to prevent Wotan from acting rashly (and He has expressed as much and purportedly has already selected a series of small orbit-crossing asteroids). We are pleased to report that the Empress has requested that the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries seek out possible bio-chemical causes for the intolerable Baalist irregularity of Autistic-Horrism, the D'wit's obnoxious Agorophobic Nationalism, and the Kristerluthian's Juvenile-Neurotic Interventionism. Some scientists believe that a phenomenal substance is emitted by the cedars that may cause neural damage and general incivility, much like excessive intake of alcohol. Others speculate that the Absolutist Cults may be vestigial remains of Pre-Adjustment sub-sentients, the various "monkeys" that hid or were, Wotan forbid, missed! Lacking self-regulating assets, they may have imposed upon their small groups external fantasy regulators, and maintained regulation with endless psychotic threats of personal harm and catastrophe. The curious have found their child-like books and scribblings shocking. The idea of the existence of human-like individuals upon our orb unable to control and regulate their lower cranial functions self-imposedly and with introspection is, no doubt, bewildering to those who do not maintain relations with creatures lesser than dogs and cats--but we may have to accept its reality. We are made thankful for our Adult and Mutually Beneficial relationship with Wotan and his entourage whose realities we happily maintain.

Histofactoid: 1962--Inuit National District Snags Cauldron

It's 1962, final game of the World Series, and Inuit Gumballs' All-Star Kenji McKeagen prepares to lay into a wild pitch for the legendary base-clearing home run that cinched the Gumballs victory that season over rival Kamchatka Kandy-Kanes. With ball parks on opposite sides of the unnavigable Bering Straits (rough seas, not Kraken!), any matches between these two great neighboring teams were commonly referred to as Submarine Series.

A View of Dr. Wu's Now-Demolished X-Spectora VIII

Futility Vehicle

A number of our loyal readers expressed curiosity over the appearance of the hyper-velocity horseless contrivance developed in concert with Togoyama by Dr. Wu (mentioned in an earlier posting). The astounding vehicle (and very nearly Dr. Wu, had he not been fastened in with safety harnesses) was instantly reduced to metallic gerbil bedding and a lethal cold shower of hundreds of projectile-like steel bearings when it collided at very nearly the rate of 380 kilometers per hour with the Institute rubbish lorry within the confines of the employee parking lot. While Dr. Wu has been heartily congratulated for producing a personal utility vehicle (PUV) capable of (for no conceivable reason, of course, other than sheer bragadoccio) nonchalantly hurtling itself into the interstellar void, he has also been castigated for testing this wonder within the confines of the badly damaged Institute fabrication shop. [For the technically curious, note missing engine panel on X-Spectora VIII, revealing rear-ward Shaubut Ring assembly. We are instructed that had the Shaubut Ring's retrospheres contained the newly uncovered Time Jelly, the vehicle theoretically could have attained Spectral Unlimit before reaching the innocent "target," the accident would have been averted, and Dr. Wu and his creation--calculating from the vector through shop wall and inclination at that moment of our beloved home world--would now be deeply lodged within the core of celestial companion D'anna]

Phase Two of Creation Offers "Smoot"

Creatrix's New Comfort-Creature for Humanity

Continuing with the long-planned Creation second-phase program for user-friendly flora and fauna (see Platypus article below), The Creatrix has introduced the multi-tasking smoot. By digitally manipulating a sequence of acupressure points located on the surface of the smoot's rectal walls the owner or manager may select from Pest, Provision, or Pet, as needs dictate. The smoot also possesses an Experiment mode accessible only to workers within the cosmetic or pharmaceutical industries. This mode presents new advantages by altering the smoots form and visage from adorable to repulsive, thus making experimentation a complete pleasure, rather than heart-sickening chore, for the taskers. Smoots make for lovable and loyal pets and as provisions they are said to taste of free-range swine. Pest mode will be mandated on announced occasions by the National Department of Poetic Balances whenever regional gestalt quotients rise too far into Green.

Institute Asserts Misuse of Theorum Floats Pup

Doctor Abernathy Levitating Chairs by Irresolvable Statements

Confronted with the recent enigma of The Ever-Hovering Hound (see earlier post), a select team of Institute Semantaphysicists and Mechanical Linguists worked feverishly these last days to unearth either laudable trickery or useful technology. Analysis of the photo revealed that the Schnitzu, focus of our eyeballing, suspended itself lengthily in midair by rhythmically chanting (sotto voce) "The dog is most emphatically not hovering in mid-air." The dissonance created by the discrepancy between the evidence of ones senses and the impossibility of the perceived action (within the inertial moment captured by photography) caused a pseudo-real field to spontaneously self-generate and then haplessly re-generate ad infinitum. The field strength (4000 joules) was easily sufficient to keep a quadruped mammal of less than 3 kilos aloft indefinitely. Drs. Pente and Pauline Abernathy demonstrated the technique by inscribing a banner with complex semantic irregularisms and presenting them to random conference room chairs the Drs. hurled toward the ceiling (see above). "Timing is all," Doctor Pauline Abernathy was quoted. "If the chair is caught by the assertion while rising or falling, the evidence otherwise of normality is unyielding, and the invariant parabolic trajectory will be maintained; if however the chair is surprised by an irrational statement at meta-stable apogee, only a window of a nanosecond of hesitation or confusion is necessary to perpetuate the phenomenon." The Drs. will be leading a study group to explore practical applications beyond those self-evident for the Veterinary Services and manufacturers of footstools.

Woolworth Reconstruction on Schedule

The Tallest Man-made Structure in the World will soon regain its preeminance. Our mighty Woolworth Tower, reviving rapidly from its spontaneous dis-assembly response to the Autistic-Horrorist attempt upon it some short time ago, is nearly fully present again, regaining majestic control over the transcendent skyline of The Floating Capitol. By reverting from a full-chaotic to a controlled-chaotic situation, the Tower disabled itself in a most astonishing and unpredicted way while heroically saving countless lives. Controlled-chaotic and randomized responses have worked well in all our troubled dealings with the rude and uncivil Three Deists, but the safe and near instantaneous deconstruction of the upper half of the Woolworth at Delta T=0 was unprecedented and a credit to both it and its remarkable designers.

Histofactoid: 1997--Awaiting the Blessings of Erde!

It's 1997 and Air Fleet Primus--after a major refitting and refurbishment by Air Fleet Maintenance--awaits a only a coating of Imperial Lilac, final detailing, and the traditional Blessings of Erde at a Frontenac International Aviation-Port Docking Tower. Air Fleet Primus (originally the Loki Class LZ-195 Pueblo National District) was constructed in 1952 at a cost of 53 million francs by Goodyear/Zeppelin of Moundbuilder National District and was initially conceived and utilized as the alliance air-born fleet operations headquarters during the Manchurian Peninsular Police War. Following the Revolution of '63, the dirigible was renamed F.S. Senator Floyd Barber by the Texists and crudely refitted with external hard-points for use in night raids against the Siamese Indolents; it was one of only seven capital ships (of an original fleet of 35) to survive that tragic conflict. In 1980 with the Re-attainmente it was selected as the Emperor's personal transport. Air Fleet Primus uses non-flammable field-spun energized helium for buoyancy]

X-Kraft 6000 Passes Emperor's Air Fleet Primus over Navajo National District

A premonitional shaft of dazzling sunlight highlights the distant aluminium hull of the most familiar and beloved dirigible in the nation as our newest technological triumph blasts by in display before it...and it's Illustrious Passenger! Our Most Gracious and Noble Emperor--en route to the first game of the Hemispheric Baseball League season in Las Baygeiles--occasioned both surprise and delight (and a modicum of panic for Sudwest Districts military and civilian air traffic controllers!) with a re-routing of Air Fleet Primus to Area 51 in order to view, first-handed, a test flight of the X-Kraft 6000 delta or The Venus Enfer as it will be christened. The Emperor communicated directly, via local optical wireless, with Astra-Capitaine Marjorie Ifukube and her crew and wished them Wotan's Speed in their upcoming flight to the neighboring Planet of Amor, Ishtar. Astra-Capitaine Ifukube is not only commanding the space-craft, but heading the Emperor's diplomatic mission.

First Photos of "Time Jelly" Released by Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries

What "Time Jelly" Might Look Like if it Looked Like Anything at All

"Time Jelly" in a retrosphere in preparation to be mounted to a Shaubut ring. The yellowish appearance is entirely illusory as "Time Jelly" only possesses the singular property of time viscosity. The pseudo-color will eventually recede once the viewer has acclimated to the unreality of the image.

Respite from Struggle Against Autistic-Horrorism

At an unnamed Imperial Green Zone and aerodrome south of the Babylonian capital of Ishtar, a welcome moment of relaxation and renewal-- Zouave officers from Shawnee National District watch with polite circumspection as irregular troops wager well-earned francs on a ponce-beetle race. These intrepid Imperial Soldaten had mere hours before completed an arduous week-long reconnaissance through the primeval cedar forests of Western Babylonia in search of detached groups of Autistic-Horrorists allied to the Baalist brigand-priest Baphomet Q'ung.

Whither Blog-dom? Our Director Responds Fully!

Anatole Zliplitt--our antagonized Director of Public Assuagement

Telegraph lines directed into the heart of the Institute have been jammed--as with "night-soil"--these last hours with puzzle-headed "what-ups" from glib, enlightened, and ever-inquiring "global villagers" regarding the nature of our endeavor here within these electronical pages. Traditionally (one would surmise from the gibbon-like chatter directed at this all-too-eager-for-greater-workload office) this "phenomenon" denoted by the lexically-flatulent as a "Blog" is intended as a virtual rest room within the Information Transit System wherein the cranial frontal components are to be "hung to dry" for the duration and the Reptilian Brain permitted to run amok with every conceivable hormonal secretion, oral outrage and anal inelegance. Guests here express bewilderment that we fail to engage this serendipitous mechanism of public communication to (among andere options) bare our metaphorical privates; storm, rant, and rage witlessly (and lightened of all circumspection or novel perspective) against beleaguered public personages and timeless social errors; describe (in hideous and tormentious micro-detail) the various fascinations and trivialities of our grey and rodent-like lives, and hold forth, otherwise, with dreary bon mots regarding the wetness of dew, the radiance of rainbows, the verities of amor, the depths of our depressions, and the strengths of our medications. Bluntly, we have no time for such donkey-dribblings! We here at the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries are engaged--quite doggedly--in the tireless pursuit of granitic resolutions to the panoply of dilemmas bedeviling mankind; we are absorbed in the fostering of erudite observations in regard to the current political morass; we are expending our energies in the development of ever-newer and cleverer technical engines in the seemingly vain, possibly pointless, hope of elevating the upright louse-infested apes infesting this orb from their current besmeared condition. That this crude foolscap we scribble upon is a "blog" burdened with Kindergarten Rules and Grammar School Obligations is of absolutely no interest to us.

Doktor Schlotz Uncovers "Time Jelly"

Auguste Joachim Schlotz

In an unscheduled press conference conducted before representatives of the various mediums and the National Optical Wireless audience, Herr Doktor Auguste Joachim Schlotz announced today that his research team at the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries had succeeded--with tremendous difficulty--in statistically isolating the much sought-after and purely hypothetical Time Jelly--a viscous paraphysical substance of no otherwise known or describable properties. Metaphysical Relativists anticipate that Time Jelly (in a highly refined state known as Time Jelly 31) may one day prove to be the primary lubricant for the proposed multi-billion franc National Orgone Accelerator. Danilla Pentaham of the Ute Orgone Laboratory greeted the news of the pseudo-discovery with enthusiasm and added that this places the nation one step closer to creating regional cold energy fountains utilizing Negative Time Jelly and contra-rotating Shaubut Rings. It's considered a hopeful sign that academic papers on the subject alone have been shown to be able to generate as much as 20 kilowatts of energy per page.

Public Notice: Institute Commissioned to Re-examine Death of Emperor Prime

DEATH IN DEALY PLAZA

Though we are in excess of two-score years passing since Our Most Beloved First Emperor was stuck down in the public plaza by a seeming legion of complexly motivated individuals, public bewilderment and interrogative continues, somewhat diminished, yet largely un-mollified. In recent months, and at the behest of the National Committee for Public Somnambulism and Unrest, the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries has (oddly, yet not ungratefully) been commissioned to reopened this formidable sea-chest of history and pour heedless over its contents in the possibly vain hope of casting greater illumination upon the whole despicable affair. Our Committee for the Re-examination of the Death of the Emperor has already widened scope beyond the primary event and peeked into tangentially related epiphenomena, these being:

• The strange--seemingly self-inflicted--death of Our National Drama’s "Cleopatra" following a booze-laden and blowzy exhibition to the entire nation—via the optical wireless—of her affections to His Greatness, affections transcending those nominally expected of any loyal citizen and further indicating possible unsavory linkages
• The assassination of the "assassin" by a cross "Citizen Rubycon"
• The later assassination (My, how these heaped up rapidly!) of Our National Drama’s "Marc Antony" who, although initially forswearing revenge, sought national backing for a vendetta against His August Sponsor’s murderers very nearly initiating a Strange Civil War.
• The identity of Our National Drama’s "Brutus" who, according to the tale, "…did not love the Emperor less, but loved the Republic more."
• The suspicion that the fatal blow was struck--quite tragically--not by an opponent of the person of His Greatness but accidentally by a personal guard endeavoring to protect .

Those subscribing to the publications and announcements of the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries should stay aware of infrequent yet possibly momentous announcements concerning this ongoing inquiry.

(A View of the Mt. Palomine Institute of Mysteries)

[It was determined at an initial board meeting that if a minimum of "fans" of the Professor and/or the Institute requested a view of our headquarters--located on the outskirts of Portville--we would graciously comply. The predetermined number of 25 thousand inquiring souls has finally been reached and it is with great pleasure that we present an image of our HQ, as they say]

Phase Two of Creation to Begin with User-Friendly Platypus

We are all hourly comforted by the inarguable and felicitous fact that the world was cobbled-together as an indivisible whole under Wotan's Monocular Gaze for the exclusive comfort and entertainment of man and women-kind. Sadly, while the flora and fauna rescued from the terrifying Day of Water-Mountains may have served as both adequate sustenance and intimate companions to our distant ancestors--benighted individuals who dwell-ed in trees and donned clothing made of bark and pine cones--they are hardly suitable accoutrement's to our delirious modern lifestyle. Happily, the plan was always to periodically update Creation to match--footfall for footfall so-to-say--the invariable advancements of humanity. First on the slate, and to be introduced within a fortnight, is the "New-Fangled" platypus (see above) --now a convenience to a nation, nay, a continent of enthusiastic beer imbibers and no longer a confusing and useless Outback Novelty (although McPlatypus was tried by a familiar Eatery Trust but sans success). Also planned are small, cuddly, toothless bears for the amusement of der Kinder, and a large yet gentle quadruped mammal capable of bearing a full-grown man (or woman!) aboard its back, making irrelevant the petroleum-guzzling conveyances present since the initial creation or Creation Phase I as it is now being dubbed by pundits. Rumors abound even of a new race of merrily uncomplaining micro-cephalic computing engine "in-puters," and highly desirable perma-babies that never attain maturity. Word too is circulating of new large fishes that are yet again mammals (!) who simulate high intelligence and serve as screens (of a fashion) upon which the Fantasy-Prone may project their myriad dreams and desires for aquatic communication and watery enlightenment. We await our new toys with child-like glee!