Monday, March 17, 2008

Moling and the Pancake trick

Princess Afternoon squinted her eyes and looked around. Man, this was really out in nowhere. Where was Erasurehead anyway? This was definitely the site from which the flares had gone up, in fact, she could see the cartridges lying on the ground. She peered around again and sighed.
Five hours ago she had been arguing with Zoe over who got to eat the last banana fudge pancake for breakfast. She had just finished a brilliant argument that since there were four pancakes they each should get two when Zoe breezily countered with the postulation that if you combined Kierkegaard, Baudrillard, and Einstein then pancakes moving at the speed of light will actually create a new territory which moves out of the realm of the objective and into the subjective making it therefore, no longer bound by the rules of time. While Princess was still puzzling out this progression Zoe nipped up the pancake up at what seemed to be close to the speed of light and in a twinkling it had disappeared. "See?" she said, and danced off to perform some special meditation exercises she had recently imported from Malaysia.
Seconds later they both heard the whine and bang of the flares and ran outside to see what was happening. "What the hey!" cried Princess Afternoon, one hundred flares shot up one after the other, brilliantly colored fireworks in the shapes of all kinds of underground creatures and organic compounds. "It must be Erasurehead", said Zoe, "the mole experiment is over." "The mole experiment?" said Princess. "Yes, he thought that if he lived with the moles for a period of time he could transcend the dirt and become one with the energetic matter that holds it together." "Transcend the dirt?" said Princess; why did she always sound like she never knew what was going on, she thought, probably because she didn't.
Zoe sighed and rolled her eyes, "You know," she said, " his theory that if you move past the fermions of everyday matter you can actually become a gluon and become one with other gluons in the space-time fabric." "I see. " said Princess, she actually didn't but it sounded better if she said she did, in truth she was still puzzling over the pancake trick. "Anyway," said Zoe, "the experiment was a bust so you'd better go pick him up."
"What! Go pick him up where?!" cried Princess. "Over there of course," Zoe pointed in the direction of where the flare smoke still touched the sky. "But that's probably hundreds of miles away, that might take hours!" said Princess Afternoon who had been really looking forward to an afternoon nap. "Nonsense! Remember," Zoe spoke slowly as if to a mentally challenged mole, "If you stay close to the speed of light, the road will shorten and you will be there and back in a twinkling. "Twinkling!? what about the speed of limit, I'll get a ticket!"
"Well, then," said Zoe, ever resourceful, "just take Bagman's old graviton time-machine. No one will even see you then." Princess eyed Bagman's last experiment lying over by the garage. It was a collection of lucky charm cereal boxes hooked up to a keg of dynamite powder and a laptop computer with some special equations in there having to do with the speed of pornography. She remembered several exploded chicken houses connected with this and the fact that nobody had actually ever seen a graviton. She decided to stick with one of the retrofitted snowmobiles still, amazingly enough, functional and waiting in the grass next to the time machine. "Why can't Tiny Bill go?" she made one last ditch effort to realize her dream of an afternoon nap. "He is busy with the Amazonian crotchnippers in his tent, they are holding him hostage in the tent and we have to wait for Baubo to come and be interpreter for their earth-based Rain forest language" "I see", said Princess, although she really didn't...
So five hours later she was waiting. Peering around into the desert, wondering if Erasurehead had actually become a gluon and how would she recognize him...

1 comment:

susannah eanes said...

i'ma tell you somethin'. i for one am staying the heck away from anything called "Amazonian crotchnippers."

they sound worse than voracious chickens with teeth!