CHAPTER 27
About the Neighbors:
It takes a Sector to raise a world
In the course of this narratext I will be concentrating on the doings and cultures of this Sector; in some cases this Quadrant. But a properspective requires that I explain to those who are reading this that there is quite a bit more “country” out there beyond our hinterland villages here on the distant arm of this Milky Way galaxy.
I could easily fill a heavy volume with stories and observations from around the Sector, and perhaps will someday, but shall for now let a few short anecdotes and pertinences suffice. Look for my full treatment of this subject in a few years; I’m thinking of calling it Ship to Shore to Home: My Many Adventures in Space over the Years (or possibly something less turgid).
For starters, I will give you the fact that our planet is classified, on a 1–10 scale, as a 5-world. A 10-world is one that is uninhabited, with little or no organic material. A 9-world is one with rudimentary vegetation, but no insect or animal life. The presence of insects and early-form animals gets a world an 8. Advanced animal development, ie, primates, warrants the category of 7. Primitive sapient life on a world means a 6 designation. Basic consciousness and early civilization puts a world onto the 5-level, and here we sit. True, we are in the latter stage of 5-world status, and will hopefully enter the early stage of 4-world within the next few decades.
Most of the planets currently within the membership of the Astania Sector are in the 4-phase, with the exception of the twenty or so oldest in the colonized-first Quadrant—Parlane—our neighbor located in the direction of the galactic core (toward in the so-named “Sagittarius” sky-segment). These planets are now recognized as early-stage 3-worlds, and as such are restricted from close contact with the peoples of the rest of the Quadrant. This is not to say that there is no contact, but that it is highly regulated and supervised, so as not unduly to disrupt the natural development of the sciences and technologies on the younger orbs.
Travel to these advanced worlds from the other orbs of the Sector is rarely permitted; even someone like Tro has only been to them a half-dozen times in his long life. During these visits, mostly for conferences (but once for a trip to a “pleasure world” as a reward for something he accomplished), the Commander was required to sign non-disclosure agreements. I did once elicit from him (after the consumption of vast quantities of beverage) the statement that “Those people are not like you and me. They experience each day, each moment, using their full mindal resources. Their technology is so interdimensionally adroit that—” Here he stopped himself and offered a toast: “Let us raise a final glass tonight, Bierce, to the evolution of consciousness. In another 50,000 years, we’ll hopefully have achieved something worthy of note.”
I raised my glass and rasped: “To a someday altogether lovely and intelligent galaxy!”
As for the 1- and 2-worlds nearer the galactic center, those ancient realms colonized in distant antiquity, all I know about them is that their peoples are no longer purely “physical” in the same sense that we are (something about being able to alter their vibrational frequencies). Over the course of millions of years of developmental heritage, their capacities for “teleconsciousness” (telepathy, telekinesis, and personal teleportation) have become wellnigh unlimited.
Then there are the 0-worlds, those planets which have given birth to life, then sentience, then, over countless eons of time had that sentience pass beyond its shores to become cosmic entities—no longer breeding, no longer even needing a world as their base of operation. These abandoned planets, near the Milky Way’s midpoint, along with their sister planets and suns, are scheduled to “return to the furnace,” as the black hole at the center of our galaxy (present in all but the youngest galaxies) consumes them in preparation for their eventual rebirth as new nebulae and new galaxies. Hundreds of thousands of the suns at the center have thus already gone nova in preparation for their reconstitution.
In terms of the Big Big Picture, I can tell you that life on all the worlds everywhere has been guided and orchestrated around centralized plans. The originators and supervisors of these plans and dictates are a kind of supernal being, an elite semi-divine class of transcendental intelligence and spirituality. They are in fact referred to as the Transcendentals. They are apparently unfettered by the normal limitations of time and space, and it is believed that they answer directly to a Supreme Mind. Aside from that general information, I can add very little, as I was not privy to much more than what I have just related.
We would have a good time in the ship’s recreation room when we watched the various versions of Star Trek (or the other sci-fi shows). There would be a lot of hooting and heckling at things. For instance, the way everybody immediately understood each other via the Universal Translator—seamlessly, perfectly—unlike the major headaches those things could be (see below). Also of constant comment among the crew would be how, on the show, major crises were always occurring and relatively quick solutions would be found. Our reality was that every crisis that did come up would be nearly intractable in its thorny detailia.
The main difference between the Star Trek universe and the one I experienced was that planets that are members of their respective Sector Leagues are not allowed to take weapons into space. Many of the “solutions” to the Star Trek episodes were climaxed by violent confrontation. I must make note, however, that The Pearl’s crew generally preferred the super-explosive battle scenes to the episodes of negotiated settlement. I guess that was because our work was generally talky, tasky, and tedious. It required painstaking research, carefully worded requisitions and approvals, intraship policy-planning meetings, and of course burrocratic second-guessing.
It was a relief for me, perhaps shaded by a slightly perverse streak, to see the simplistic delineations of black-and-white, Us vs. Them, with the troublemakers being both outsmarted and blown to smither-hell. It’s not unlike why a lot of you liked to watch The Sopranos. You don’t do business that way when you’re at work (whacking people who get in your way), but you might enjoy the fantasy of doing so.
As for the language barriers between races, the rudimentary form of communication is with a sign language that all peoples learn upon entry into Sectorhood. There is also a symbol system for words, phrases, sentences, and concepts, which is likewise learned on all member worlds in the Sector. (Yet another future tome with a full array of these and other additions to languism.)
And, altho not as easily handled as on Star Trek episodes, there does exist the equivalent of the universal translator that they so effortlessly employ. The real thing requires an earpiece and a bulky beltbox and can decipher something like 14,000 languages, including a dozen or so from Urth. There are also planet-specific ones that are small, but then you’d meet some other persons from a different world, or perchance wanted to eavesdrop on them, and you wouldn’t know what the hellblazes they were saying.
The main problem with these translangs is that the person being translated has to speak rather precisely. This frankly was a pain in the neck on more occasions than I care to recite, especially if I was out drinking with someone in a noisy nightspot, as was often the case when I was undercloak and gathering info. (Remember the bar scene in Star Wars? They got it pretty close to right; just add three-breasted cocktail waitresses and a Blaxian bullhorse mechmach, and you’d about have a typical tavern on Bolla.)
Tro would usevantage the Translator sensitivity with a tricknique of his during cross-negotiations and arbitrations, telling the participants that they couldn’t raise their voices, and would have to talk very, very slowly, or else the translator would malfunction. This would serve to ratchet down the emotions (and planned histrionics) of the parties involved.
The Commander made another intriguing point concerning the slowed-down statements, telling me, “Oftentimes this would force these persons to truly hear themselves as they usually couldn’t, as they were so accustomed to their own boombast. They would listen to their own tired phrases, almost in a contemplative way, and this would allow some new thoughts to pervade their clichéd demands and pronouncements.”
There’s a huge architectural museum on Minta, our Sector capital, that has constructed models of over 6000 skylines from around Astania, plus thousands of photos, holograms, and “videos” of other urban locales and buildings. From this planet, they already have New York, San Francisco, Chicago, Tokyo, Seattle, Paris, and Singapore. These are about 15–20 meters in diameter.
A big feature in these exhibeums are the super-cities they compose, using buildings mixmatched from dozens of different locales on a planet; those not accorded individuation in the city models. This allows them to feature-add special architectural portrayals, such as, in our case, the Taj Mahal, the Rheims Cathedral, and the Sydney Opera House. That production is at the end of the walk and measures 10–12 meters across.
Something new that is being built adjacent to this splendiforous museum is a similar treatment for the Sector’s natural scenescapes, encompassing everything from mountains to waterfalls. There already exists, on Minta and several recramusement worlds, “filmed” examples of the major sights, terrains, and geographic features of the planets, but this new place will be solid structure, so that the repromodel of Mt. Everest will stand about three meters high, and the Grand Canyon will stretch about four to five meters end to end.
On Varilla, there was a big civil protest going on when I landed there. Many thousands of people, mostly parental types, were in the street with signs and banners protesting the new satellite system that gave them 700 TV stations. I asked how many they formerly had and was
told that it was around 400, but that those were well-received, as they included many sports and hobby and educational channels, and of course a great selection of movies.
But the company that was providing the new service was adding a lot of porno movies to the mix, including the biggest taboo there, several Altarian porno stations and, worse of all, a few channels that had mixed-race sex movies—Altarians and Tarkians together.
The situation was explained (by my driver) by the fact that the Altarians were “sex-crazy degenerates” who carry on their filthy mating activities for obscenely long periods, as opposed to the short-and-quick way that the Tarkian Book of Morals dictated as mandatory. “It is a horrible crime against nature that they prolong to such an extent, not to mention all the devilistic variations and positions they use.”
A few minutes later I was in my spaceport hotel room, where I immediately dialed up the referred-to stations and, after a thorough review, had to agree that, yes, they did go on and on with their perverse activities. And yes, their dexterity and duration were remarkable. And what they did with those little Tarkian girls was unrelentingly nasty indeed.
I encountered a similar state of affairs when I made port on Sesaloona, where the protests were about virtual reality sets being sold for home use. It was mostly females in the streets, as they were upset with the fact that their husbands were spending all their available time in virtuality chambers doing sports and sex simulations. Previously, these modules had only been licensed for sports bars and sex shops, but a new administration had allowed a company (a big political supporter of the new leader) to sell them directly to private consumers, and they were doing a hotcakes business.
The user would climb into the private, dark-paned module, put on some electrodes and a visor-goggle, and dial up a sport or a sexmate of their preference. The protesters eventually won their battle, after it was demonstrated that the marriage institution and economic prosperity—lost work days, tired employees—were being seriously threatened. (Stay tuned, folks, this little dramacrisis is heading our way in the sooncome.)
The space lanes and routes most often used by trade and tourist ships are fairly well patrolled and protected, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t incidents. Are there pirates on the high seas of space? Yes, indeedy! And of the worst kind, by which I mean they have the abso-fastest craft available and many allies and accomplices on most any world in the Sector, ready to receive their stolen merchandise.
I’m telling you this so it won’t come as a shock to you if you are on a cruise to Sirius or wherever and suddenly there are masked men holding power pistols asking everyone to hand over their valuables. I’m pretty sure the fancy holo-brochures they give out won’t be mentioning that possibility.
But I’m rememberminded of one time when a band of space pirates was thoroughly unsuccessful in its attempt to loot a passing ship. I wasn’t on it, but it was a Service Corps ship doing an evacuation. The poor souls on board were a rag-tag bunch who had barely been rescued from a planet that had literally caught fire, because of some sudden solar activity sending flares into it—the planet having been one of the innermost ones in its system.
The pirates came into the vast common room where about two thousand refugees were asleep on their cots, their sad mounds of salvaged belongings beside them, and announced that it was a robbery, and would everyone please remain quiet while their valuables were gathered.
What happened next was that the whole room of bedraggled refugees, having been dealt the final unbearable insult to their well-being, screamed in angry outrage, as hundreds of them stormed and tore the jackals limb from limb, then beat their remains into mush with the barrels of the confiscated guns.
I tell you this also because this particular group is now resettled on an orb in this solar system—one of the larger moons of one of the larger planets, where they live just below the surface. The reasons their colony is subterranean are, first, because it’s easier to heat (they’re from a fairly hot world), and second, because they never want to look at a sun again.
They were originally scheduled to be transplanted onto Mars, and actually did begin to settle there. This was back in the 1870s, and some astronomers on Urth noticed the activity and the reflections of light from the large metallic buildings being constructed. There was something of a hubbub among the astronomical community of the time. (The president of the US was even alerted.) To avoid further notice of that kind, plus the fact that they didn’t really want to live under another sun in the first place, they packed up and were moved to the moon they now reside within.
If and when you visit them, I have a few bits of advice. Be mindful that they are a glum species who have suffered enormous devastation and loss. Try not to be too unnecessarily bonjovial or hale-fellow-well-met with them. And under no circumstances say anything like, “Don’t you folks miss the sun?” Since they are a rather long-lived race, there are still hundreds among them who witnessed the solar “killshot” upon their unprepared world, and they’re still understandably sensitive.
I participated in a planetary evacuation once. What a hell’s bells that was! A planet in the Rigulan system had its icecap dislodged into the ocean—by heavy seismic activity—causing a worldwide flood.
With the generous aidsistance of a neighboring Sector’s Emergency Corps (it was a border world) we managed to save 23,000 people, mostly from mountaintops, and relocate them to an uninhabited orb after more than a three-month journey. There we constructed about a hundred large geodesic domes and equipped them with atmo-makers. And what a grueling time that was, with what had to be the whiniest species in the Quadrant, complaining constantly about the food we gave them and the fact that we didn’t save enuff women, or cultural artifacts, blahblahcetra.
To share a secret, we had set out to take them to a virgin world, one similar to their homeworld, but that would have meant another six-months’ trip, so when we became aware of the moon’s availability in our flightpath, we held a vote, then dumposited them there.
Lekorians are born with vestigial antennae, but routinely have them removed, as it is generally believed that they no longer serve any useful function and separate them too much from other similar-looking species they are in contact with (and are a bother to keep clean). But lately there’s been a movement there to retain these appendages, the argument being that they are part of the Lekorian heritage and that they are sensual appendages that help with psychic ability. (Reminds me a little of the anti-circumcision believers here at home—except for the psychic aid part.)
There are a lot of funtastical places in the Sector, by which I refer mostly to the resort centers. There are around ten of these places like this in Astania, but perhaps the biggest one—the Las Vegas of this starzone—is Bolla, which is located seventeen lighties from here along the main Translane. Bolla is actually a moon, a moon of a never-colonized planet. There’s no way I can do the resort center proper justice in a few briefagraphs—and with no pictures—but I’ll give you a pale peekview.
The hotel rooms, even before you go out into the casino and recramusement areas, are an impressive experience inofitself. The standard room, not even anything “deluxe,” is one that measures about 20X30, but gives you the holographic impression that you’re in a luxurious palace, or (by changing the program dial) a cactus-filled tri-mooned desert landscape, or a coral reef, with lapping waves and exotic birds flitting about, orcetra, orcetra.
And I can’t not mention the “showers.” They have regular showers, the kind with cascading water (or your choice of scented waters or soapy water) but those hardly get used, because most people opt for the vibra-gel units. You first program in your species type (which, in our case, would be Mammalian 3), then you immerse yourself up to your neck in the gelified liquid, or all the way if you clip on a breather. Within a few seconds starts the warm sensation of a total body tingle as the gel begins to vibrate. This process also cleans you, and exfoliates your pores (or scales, as the case may be), servicing you from stem to sternum. They even have settings for the major lines of droids, in case you want to scrub down your server unit.
In the recramusement area, there are hundreds of buildings and thousands of pleasure pursuits, including rides that would make Walt Disney come back to life, then faint dead away. There are of course myriads of virtuality booths, mostly used for their sexual features, but where you can also be a sports star or hero in a mini-action-flick.
Also very busy are the ship-sim rides. These realistic simulations provide you the sensation of piloting a craft—with a full-size helm, thru a representograph of Quadrant space, only much more speeded up, so you can more quickly visit several planets on one paid ticket. They travel you at 200 times the speed of light, so it’s only a minute or two between planetary stops (which keeps the ticket lines shorter). First you orbit a world for a minute, getting the feel of the global panavista, then you make a landing onto a faithfully reproduced representation of that orb.
Oh, and I shouldn’t forget to tell you about the casino arena. This is where 40,000 or so persons gather (around the clock, always a fullpacked house) in a stadium to gamble on everything from one-on-one gladiator-style bouts to randomized number drawings with big payouts. Any kind of casino game you’ve ever seen and many that you haven’t are flashed on the megascreen for the patrons to bet on from the keypads built into the seats. But, like all casinos everywhere, the odds are tilted in the house’s favor. My last visit to Bolla was my fifth, and the first time I scored any loot from the arena, coming up big on a random three-draw, after holding even on my other wagers.
CHAPTER 28
Hold Out for the Big Bucks,
wherein I dole out some free advice
Urth movies are quite popular around this star system. Almost no other race goes to the full-scale effort we do to make films, especially our blockbuster action flicks which are already enjoyed on hundreds of worlds in this vicinity for their sheer brassy exuberance. Another factor we have—because of the non-implementation of the long-term plan, as everywhere enacted, of racial amalgamation—is that we are very differentiated, one from the other, in a wide spectra-range of eye, hair, and skin hues. Movies from a great many of the advanced planets are decidedly difficult to follow for people not of that world, because of confusion between the characters. (And, I might as well get it out, our women’s breasts far outsize the breasts of most every planet in the starsec, due to our evolutionary history, and are widely ogled wherever Urth movies have been shown.)
The #1 movie star from Urth, for a few years now, is the kinetic Asian action star Jackie Chan. His movies, low on dialogue and high on fabulous acrobaticals, are universally funjoyed as great viewing.
Among female performers, there are several of ours who are quite popular, but none more than Julia Roberts. Nowhere is this more true than on Lisonia, where the females, with their wide mouths and natural toothiness, bear a striking resemblance to her (except for the fact that they are tiny-breasted and semi-bald). She is by far the biggest offworlder celebrity there, and stories abound—totally without basis, I’m sure—of her having mixed parentage.
The past royalties due to companies and stars are being held for after O’z has been reached. At that time, field representatives will meet with personnel from the various companies they want to negotiate deals with. High on that list will be the movie studios. Pro Bono Advice: Don’t sell those rights too cheaply.
The best of our classicists—Bach, Brahms, Beethoven, Mozart, Chopin, and Mahler—are respected around the Sector, and their works are found among any true music aficionado’s collection.
As for our voice artists, the female singers with multi-textured emotional voices (like Barbra Streisand, Norah Jones, and Mariah Carey) have already basistablished a market. Among the male performers, the ones from here who have best made the big cross-over were topped by Jimi Hendrix, Sting, and Paul Simon. The latter’s Rhythm of the Saints was known wherever I traveled on my last excursion-tour, as well as an earlier song of his that apparently was translated into many languages: 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover. Among the most listened-to groups were U2, Yanni, and The Moody Blues. And, as I recall, Nirvana and Depeche Mode were way-big on the Hadexian subtermoons.
Reprocubes of some of our circus-type performers, especially Blue Man Group, Chinese acrobatic troupes, and Cirque du Soleil, are very popular out and about. They will have, along with certain other entertainment groups, many tour opportunities around these stellar precincts. They are considered among the prima essentia of Urth, which is to say the best that a planet uniquely offers.
The Traders (Interplanetary Trade and Commerce Agency, who represent the interests of companies on over 600 worlds) won’t like me mentioning these things, but screw ’em. What did they ever do for moi? The fact is, they swoop down on newly opened worlds, like so many smiling locusts, and make deals with the still-spinning natives for their best products.
For the local businesspersons, this is like found money, a big new cherry on the profit cake, as they get schmoozed and buttered with saucer rides, free tickets to resort planets, and a box full of product coupons. They’re told, “We’re not sure how well your product will sell, but you should be proud to partake in our interplanetary family of businesses.” Things like that. Meanwhile, they’re backordered around the Sector for whatever it is they’re angling for. Peeves me off. Sales reps! Pretty much the same weasel crop everywhere.
In fact, I’m going to share with you just what they’ll be most interested in, just so you can be prepared to drive a suitably hard bargain. Aside from what I’ve already discussed, off the top of my head:
< any kind of wood, especially pine and cedar (aromatic sells!)
< coffee and tea (Java rules the space lanes! The galaxy is loaded with various forms of natural and artificial stimulants, and races enjoy sharing and trading and bragging on theirs. Wherever we went, when they found out we had been stationed on Urth, it wasn’t long before they were nudging us for some of the dark brew. Colombia. Brazil. Tanzania. The wayfarers and planet-bound connoisseurs of liquid stim could recite these place names like we know the regions of Burgundy, Bordeaux, and Champagne. They would sidle up to me, raise their eyebrows—or the equivalent—and say “Colombia coffee?” As for our teas, the most popular ones are chamomile and something called red zinger.)
< strawberries
< platinum
< orchids and certain colored roses
< ginseng
< glass-blown art
< horses, especially white and spotted
< practically any painting on velvet (Apparently, we’re the best of the few who do this.)
< koala bears
< oil paintings of (any and all) Urthian landscapes
< diamonds
< toilet paper
(They of course have toilet paper, but not as cheap as we produce it. You can sell well above your normal wholesale and still allow them to turn a credit.)
< parrots (Mega item; think high five figures each for ones that have big vocabularies and the ability to learn a “foreign” language.)
< silkworms
< raisinettes (Both our chocolate and raisins are extremely popular. Put them together and you have a masseller product line. Visitors here can’t believe how cheap they can get them at the theaters.)
< animated movies, especially the Pixar ones. (“Wall-E” is already a pheno-pop.)
< colorful seashells and conches (ones you can “hear the ocean” in)
< kelp (Inexplicably, some around the Sector find this crazy-tasty.)
< tropical fish
< iguanas and chameleons
< completed postage stamp sets (with explanatory material)
< pineapples
< And, of course, water, in all its forms—from ice to fresh, and even sea water.
Now, one other important thing: Probably the best sales rep team they have will be the ones who will negotiate for gold. They’ll express interest in other things first, hardly mentioning gold, seemingly more focused on other products. But here’s the thing to remember: Besides its value in easily malleable jewelry, and its usage as an atmospheric screen in ozone-depleted atmospheres, every planet needs a reserve of some universally accepted commodity that they can quickly utilize with any other race when they start space travel, or when visiting ships stop in with their wares. (These will be known as your “Standard Unit.”) Among the things the other worlds use for this purpose, gold is about the best, and the one you have in abundance. So whatever the offer, limit the gold exports in your Trader Agreement to under 200 pounds per year.
And, not to forget: There will be an “Entrance Fee” into the League. Because of the recognized high quality of our gold bullion and diamonds, they will likely ask for it in those two commodities. Just ballparking, but based on our population, etc., it will problikely be in the neighborhood of 500 pounds of gold and two to three thousand carats of diamonds. (This fee and various taxes and tariffs are what pay the expenses of outfits like the Service Corps.)
An important factor in Urth’s immediate future (by which I refer to whether we enter Openization while still, to put it mildly, a little rough around the edges) is the great movie and music and product list that we can supply. The Traders are a constant source of pressure on the burrocrats to Openize Urth soon so they can get their money-go-round set up. It isn’t supposed to be that way. Influence-peddling isn’t how they teach it in the civics classes around the Sector, but that’s the way things seem to work when you mix politics and commerce. Anyone can see multiple examples of that right here at home.
Another factor causing pressure to bear upon the decision-makers is that Urth is going to be one of the biggest vacation resorts in the Quadrant, owing to our tremendous water resources and remarkable topography. Most worlds are dull blob-balls compared to our precious blue jewel. Tour companies, at present severely limited by our semi-quarantine status, all have waiting lists of those who want to visit.
Tip: When negotiating a deal with the tour companies, hold out for a percentage of the tour operator’s “fee of transport and access.” (I’ve seen up to 7–8% in deals of this nature.) This would be in addition to the individual charges for places the tourists go to. The smart planets know to get this surcharge, as it can add up big. And Urth, to re-emphasize, will be one of the top tour spots in the Sector within a few short years after Openization.
Something to start thinking about for you families, especially if you have a need for some extra income, is the idea of allowing one or two of the far-foreigners to stay at your house for a week or two. They pay exactly double the going rate for room and board, and you’re only obligated to spend one hour a day in direct time with them, which you can mostly cover during dinner. Most of them will have their own mini-craft (small saucers or delta-winged magnocrafts) and if you have parking space for that, you can add 25–30% to the rental fee. It’s something to consider, for the income and the experience, and you might get a reciprocal invite to visit their homeworld. This can become a once-in-a-lifetime family vacation for you and yours. But just to pre-warn you; be wary of Glix, Beltora, or Nasra. The first two have the oddest smells imaginable, and the latter is a world filled with insatiable group-sex enthusiasts (with age, gender, and species not in any way precluding factors).
A big however in our future tourism trade depends on how well we handle our pollution problems. For one thing, to remain atmospherically viable, we have to go beyond the internationally agreed Kyoto guidelines on reduced emissions of greenhouse gases, and with no exceptions for India and China. Since we will probably fall far short of that goalplan, owing to the US, India, and China not being on board (and the Bushies having run interference for the fossil fuel cartels), this presents a major problem in the planet’s big picture. We simply can’t be allowed to despoil our nest in what will in two decades be realized as Earthicide.
See how many edges this Sword of Conundrum has? Waiting until we’re fully ready for O’z might mean allowing our demise to have proceeded beyond repair. If the population explosion, air/water despoilation, and greenhouse effect are continued on pace for the next twenty years, and Openization then occurs, they could probably still help us save our ecosphere. But we’ll have sustained terrible biospheric damage and a severe sea-level rise, and our tour value will have gone way down.
I remember a conversation I overheard a few years back. Three members of Astanian Business Partners—a private company that surveys business opportunities for their clients—had caught a ride back to Minta (the Sector capital) with us. They had been on Urth to check out the landfills and dumps here. They had conducted a study and made a report regarding the extent and content of this (literally) re-source, for future profitary exploitation by the refuse conversion wholesalers who were behind their junket to Urth (excuse the attempt at a pun). They were saying that their recommendation would be to go for a deal whereby they “provide the service” of removing our landfill dumps and restoring the land to a state of high arability. Just that. Even Steven. No credits changing hands.
But when you make that deal, let me urge you, get a minimum of ten dollars per ton (they estimated over a trillion tons of “prime”), as they will be immediately reselling it to smaller companies for double or even triple that. In the first place, these companies have sophisticated machinery that sorts out metals, glass, and plastics for reconstitution, and converts other material to energy.
Also good to know is that they refurbish certain items into curiosities and collectibles, fetching a pretty profit as “authentic Urth artifacts.” As they say, one planet’s junk is another planet’s treasure. For any of you who frequent flea markets or garage sales, you’ve possibly noticed the oddly overbundled folks who move silently among the tables, quickly spotting what they want, paying the requested price without quibble, then leaving without a word. Some of those items, perhaps someone’s old Tonka truck, Barbie doll, or seashell lampshade, are headed for shops in a far-foreign plaza.
As for the way they’ll leave the old dumpfills, this I’ve seen implemented on several planets. They do an amazingly good job of restoration. You even get a choice as to how they convert the land—construction-ready, park-landscaped, or farm-tillable. I recommend the last one, as the soil content will be that of virgin soil, fullrichified with the total spectrum of nutrients. This is in contrast to the strippleted soil you now eat from, where huge amounts of fertilizer are now needed to get a crop, and even that supplementation concentrates on just three or four major nutrients, ignoring dozens of others. Depending on the latitude, rainfall, and crop planted, farm owners can get up to double harvestation, with enormous yields, for many years to come.
Now, the above reminds me of two other Even Steven deals they might try to make with us. I’ve heard the following scenario bandied about, regarding Urth’s multiplentious forests, so it will probably end up on the table.
There’s such a thing as a forest maintenance company. They do a top-to-bottom service, from thinning out a forest’s dead trees and branches (which can turn flammable) to putting out any fires that do start. They’ll offer this service for what will look to be a low price, say 50 cents a square mile per year. What they don’t tell you is that they can get a nice price for the cleared detritus, as wood is relatively scarce on a majority of Sector worlds—either by nature or depletion. What they’ll try to do is rapaciously trim within the forests, under the guise of “pruning.” Mostly they’ll convert what they gather into pressed-wood products that fetch the high credit most everywhere for 100 parsecs.
When the time comes for the contract talks, ask them for 50 cents per square mile, then maybe negotiate a deal where no money needs to be exchanged. And have our Park Service Rangers keep-eye for excessive pruning.
The other thing is more complicated—and more serious—and has to do with our ice caps. Some of you already know that our world goes thru a periodic cycle of the ice caps getting really large, then its great mass causes its bottom portion to get melty, so they suddenly slide into the ocean when there’s seismic activity or astronomic gravitational pulls placed on them. This cycle then starts over, culminating in the next ice age.
All these “computer models” they have now that predict that the world’s oceans will rise this or that number of inches in the next twenty or fifty or a hundred years are totally flawed by the inexorable fact that, just as in the past, a point will come when the ice abruptly, and catastrophically, slides off its moorings. It’s like when you have a big buildup of snow on your roof, then, after some meltage, it all suddenly comes down in one big plop.
The Great Flood of nearly 13,000 years ago was caused by just such an event. Antarctica’s increasingly tenuous monstrosity, billions of cubic acres of frozen water, is this very minute approaching slippage. This is due to what global warming has already caused, just enuff to soften the underpinnings of the mountains of ice. Ifnwhen a major portion of the ice cap falls into the ocean, this will cause a tsunami upwards of 200 meters high. (Goodbye, coastal cities.) The one from the Great Flood, when the whole engorged South Pole ice-mass went kerplunk, was over 250 meters high and sloshed back and forth across the world several times. So it is absolutely imperative for us to stop the greenhouse warming, as it is heating the poles far more than the rest of the planet and causing this dangerous meltage.
But some portion of this ice can be excised into manageable pieces and transported to planets and moons that rely on imported water and are willing to pay well for it. I have an idea how much they can make on our ice caps, so don’t let them cut a deal whereby we pay them anything for this “service.” Get at least a nickel a square meter and have them throw in some freebies, like helping us with drought relief in whatever areas most need it while they’re here doing their extrication. And cut them off at half the cap at the South Pole, and a quarter of the Greenland ice, as the rest is necessary for global temperature maintenance, rain-bearing cloud inception, and ballast.
CHAPTER 29
There and Here:
some comparative analysis
In much the same way that North America has become fairly homogenized culturally, and Europe and Asia have begun to, the various worlds of this Sector, as they become more advanced and partake in interplanetary commerce and travel, become progressively like each other. What works especially well in one place is adapted by the others, with individual differences of temperament, etc, applied.
To generalize broadly, on the more advanced planets of this Sector (talking roughly half of the 620), leisure and family pursuits have become preeminent. The average worker, excluding business owners, works the equiv of four to five hours a day, four days per week.
One economic characteristic common among these civilizations is the practice of Investiture. Young adults, upon reaching an age of roughly twenty to twenty-two in our terms, are given a sum translating to 75–100k, to be spent or invested as they choose. (This is assuming that they have no criminal violations—something for which the amount is deducted accordingly—a marvelous deterrent inofitself.) The recipients are assigned an investment monitor and must report annually as to the progress of the state’s gift.
There are many variations, but most of these places provide for a reinvestiture to occur ifnwhen a payback is completed. An example would be a payback on a 75k original sum leading to a new Investiture of 100–125k. This payback usually has to be certified as having been mostly accomplished with profits from the original investment monies. One further variation that I especially like, on the orbs that have adopted it, is the Phase Two Investiture.
In this furtherance of the program, the state gives a much larger amount to those reaching the age of thirty-five to forty, but dependent on how well they fared with the original benefaction, and subject to other criteria, such as financial status and a submitted proposal. Those who wish to pursue second careers (a large minority of them) are encouraged to take this opportunity—using the Investiture to take a sabbatical and re-educate, re-train, or apprentice somewhere. The majority simply buy, or buy into, some kind of business. (One thing that’s not allowed on these reinvestitures is to use the bulk of the money in a purely speculative manner, eg, playing the stock market.)
All this amounts to a huge boon for the economies that employ this sponsored grant system. Capital is constantly circulated in such a way as to reward entrepeurship, stimulate the arts, challenge existing companies to keep their edge while attracting investment, and give the youth something to look forward to (independence, financial viability) if they’re good citizens and prepare well. Of course there are those who squander the opportunity, but the vastjority of the recipients invest well, whether it’s in themselves or some going concern
Different worlds have different means of financing the start-up of these programs, but most rely on inheritance taxes, which in many places average 50%, and which are a large source of general funds. On these planets the average lifespan is quite longer than here, so children of the deceased are themselves usually grandparents or beyond, and in no great need of the money anyway. If they are, they can usually just petition the state for a waiver, partial or whole, as almost all the civilized planets in this zone are truly civilized, which is to say that their governments consider it their responsiduty to uphold the social compact—that of supporting and enhancing the lives of their citizenry.
One of the other areas where the advanced worlds share similarities is that of marriage customs. What we still have here—doddering and tottering as a viable form—is the basic monogamy system. This is all well and good for a developing world, where procreation and child-rearing are of central concern, but is generally shunted aside in favor of more liberated (and liberating) forms once a civilization becomes economically and socially secure and passes thru its Industrial and Information Ages into the inevitable Hi-Tech or Leisure Age. Once war and famine are in the rearview mirror of a civilization, then population stability becomes the standard.
There are variations planet to planet, but here is the broadstroke format that marriage evolves into on the advanced worlds. The initial marriage is entered into only after (all times are equivs) a six-month period following a declaration of intent. During this time, classes and counseling are mutually attended.
When the marriage license is issued, it is only for a relatively short period—one to three years—at which time it needs to be renewed. (It’s generally followed that the firsters agree not to procreate during this initial period.) This allows for a non-acrimonious split should the couple decide that they aren’t blissfully right for each other after all. Any couple can therefore choose to stay together for as long as they like, without severe penalty, legal battle, or social sanction, merely by renewing their license every so many years. A common setup is to give the renewing couple some kind of option on the renewal years, say two, five, or ten.
For those who decide to have children together, it is a somewhat different matter. There are requisites and applications, classes for both parents, genetics tests, and the required stay-together commitments are substantially increased. One of the biggest underlying problems on Urth is the unregulated proliferation of children, be it unintentional from unprotected sex, or intentional, but for the wrong reason, or by couples who are more culprits that caregivers.
This is a massive systemic problem for our planet, not only because of overpopulation, but because too many of the children spawned are from economic and personal situations where they are less than ideally cared for in their formative years (too often in poverty, and too often by one parent) and themselves grow up to continue the negative cycles, meanwhile adding to the burden of society with their lack of educatability/employability, rampant substance abuse, and criminality. So on these more enlightened orbs, only about one-half of the adult population are granted the privilege/responsibility of parenthood.
On the most advanced worlds, where the lifespans are longest, the workweek the shortest, and the populations at a stable number, procreation and childrearing become the ardent avocation of an avid minority. On these worlds, what we find among a sizable segment of the non-parentals are variations of what can be called expanded marriages, which have evolved into respectable and sanctioned social institutions. Licenses are issued for the three (or more—up to Rajalia’s seven) people who have legally chosen to cohabitate, and it is found that these unions are highly stable and successful, with a high renewal rate on the licenses. For this reason, tax codes are generally friendly to the setup.
These relationships are based on personality, economics, and mixed specialties, among other considerations, but they are also physical, in ways beyond our own traditions. The sexual matchups can best be described as kaleidoscopic—in terms of their flexible recombinance. In societies where there is no homophobia, no curtailment of people’s orientation, and the existence of advanced surgical procedures, many tendrils of possibility and practice will proliferate in the pursuit of pleasure—what it fact can only be called omnisexuality.
Compared to some planets I know of, the prison systems here on Urth are mid-level between the benign, counselor-camp types and the savagely sadistic. On at least two worlds (Grida and Torox), prisoners’ brains are wired up and they are auto-monitored for thoughts of criminal or violent behavior. If any such thoughts are detected—by activity in focalized brain areas—then the same skull-cap unit delivers a dose of pain via the brain’s circuits. This is usually targeted toward the genital zone or the feet, and I’m told that it feels quite real. Altho the sentences are uniformly short on those worlds (less state expense), the time served is definitely “hard time,” and definitely a deterrent to repeat offenses.
A common practice on advanced worlds is to pre-determine who the potential criminals and anti-social personalities are. While I have my personal qualms about such things—remembering my own youthful excesses—Commander Tetrov assured me that they have a high degree of workability, leading to a radical lowering, in some cases a near-alleviation, of the crime rates on those worlds using such measures.
The ACLU would have a herd of cows if you mentioned doing this here, but here’s generally how they’re administered. At around the time of post-puberty, say fifteen to seventeen, the state uses psychsessment methods, personal interviews, criminal records, and school permanent records (yes, those permanent records) to determine which youths will be re-routed away from the purely academic into a work/study system. Supervised by the government, this program provides a highly disciplined setting in which they alternate between classroom and work days. The work is usually of a manual type—in fields, factories, and mechshops.
This lasts anywhere from two to four years, and those who “graduate” with a good record receive a large cash bonus—up to the equivalent of 80–90k in our terms. Because they have been rigorously tested and pre-toughened, and uniformly are more mature then their academic-path counterparts, they are highly sought-after in the job market, usually as some kind of manager or foreman. Some use the money to pursue higher education or start their own business enterprise.
For those who don't make it thru the work/study program, or who are a constant source of friction and violence, they are sent to a low-security prison in an attempt to teach them a skill while polishing their social skills and shielding society from their disruptive behavior.
Among the problems of doing anything like this here, in addition to public sentiment and political squeamishness, is that there would be such a high candidate count, especially in the urbareas. And in the suburbs, it’s hard to tell which youngsters are just playing at being “gangstas” to impress their cohorts (and the little chickies), and which really are on the road to perdition.
As well, with the proliferation of drug use in many areas, such an institution would by necessity also have to be a drug rehab program. But we needn’t concern ourselves with such a possibility, as it’s not going to happen here anytime soon.
A prudent man would stay away from the world government angle altogether, as it incites so many of the wingnuts, but prudence has never been much of a strong suit for me.
Many of my discussions with Tetrov centered on the path to true world government (a stern requisite for official Sector membership) and the actual organization of such a body—how it might be construed here on Urth.
A point he made at the outset was that our path to one-world status was operating under several handicaps not often seen elsewhere. For one, there is a terrible disparity between rich nations and poor nations here, altho better now than in the past. Second, owing to our storied past filled with interventions and interlopers, we have many, many religions. Since the ITA restriction on knowledge-sharing, ten years for most things, was set at thirty years for matters of religion, it was difficult to get Troablo to say much on this score.
The most I could get from him on the subject of religion was: “Theology has been a joy and frustration for all who have pursued it, and all have. Like all worlds and peoples, you will find your way to fulfillment eventually.”
Moving on to the third obstacle, he cited raciality. Again owing to our unique history, we have many races and sub-races here. On most worlds, there are only one or two variants.
Lastly, and as big as any of the others, is the high number of countries here. Altho moving forward into various power zones here, the presence of over 150 countries makes problems more difficult to solve. And as for those power zones, this is how he sees it ideally sorting out in the next twenty to thirty years, in two distinct stages, the first eventuating into the second:
First Stage
1. North America Union—the already complete union of the US, Canada, and Cuba.
2. South America—comprising Mexico and all the other Westisphere nations.
3. Israel, Australia, New Zealand, Iceland, Indonesia, and other independent entities.
4. China.
5. European Union.
6. Russia.
7. India.
8. Africa.
9. The Pacific Rim nations, led by Japan.
10. Arabia.
Tetrov went on to say that in time (forty to sixty years), he would postulate the ten becoming seven, or possibly five. The latter scenario would look like this:
1. The Western Hemisphere.
2. Asia.
3. Africa.
4. India.
5. Greater Europe (inclusive of Russia).
The independents would choose which grouping to be a member of.
In the Tetrov schematic here are a few of his suggested gears and levers for an effective world administration:
1. A tax on every nation’s Gross Domestic Product (something like 1–2%).
2. Each grouping would send 100 representatives to a world council, choosing them mostly on the basis of district reps, (say, 80 of the 100) but also having individuals serving the constituencies of the major industries, farmers, academic professionals, andcetra.
3. A second legislative “house,” similar to what the US has with its Senate and the British have with their House of Lords. Basically reflecting the ownership class, this one would have a total of one hundred members (20 from each zone) and be based on the amount of tax paid to the world body.
An example of how it would work would be that the North American Union, if it paid 16% of the taxes collected, would have 16 of the 100 reps. The role of legislating would be split up, some important matters needing to pass both houses, but each would have veto power over the other’s legislation, by mustering a supermajority (65% or 75%).
4. A transference of military weaponry and personnel, in 3–5% increments, from the nations to the World Government. At the end of the process, nations would be left with one-third of their original strength. At the end of fifteen to twenty years, the planetary government would have a monstrously huge military, foreboding to any nation that got out of line, and the individual countries and alliances would only have sufficient military strength for border security.
Most of this is decades away from realistic possibility, but we as a planet have to start lookforwarding not only to peaceful coexistence but to eventual alignments that will lead to further consolidations, which in turn will lead to a onified planet. At that point (what, fifty years, a hundred years?) we can fully join the consortium of civilized worlds, a pool we are just now only dipping our feet into.
Perhaps the peoples of Urth should ponder some of these exigencies and discuss some of these futurisms during this upcoming year as the UN headquarters makes its move from Brasilia to Valletta. (The island of Malta is an altogether fitting locale to replace civil-war-torn Brazil, as it is in the middle of the Mediterranean, which means “middle of the Urth.”)
Tro had this to say recently: “Your Urth is a bogmire of cross-purposed interests and extenuations with no clear-cut solutions at the ready. The corporations’ domination plans cannot be stopped by the governments. The governments’ domination plans cannot be stopped by the media. The media’s domination plans cannot be stopped by the parents. And these helpless parents have progressively less control over their children, who are fed a diet of violence, materialistic need, and instant gratification.
“A culture can grow and prosper only if 75–80% of the youth are aboard as intelligent, responsible participants. But Western Civilization here, the so-called leaders of the planet, are faced with a situaplex wherein less than 60% of its youth are positively motivated. Intelligence and responsibility are actually demeaned by the most popular forms of entertainment aimfocused on the young, so that number will be dropping precipitously in the near future.”
Voting for elected officials is handled in many different ways around the Sector. Once a planet becomes a member, they are under no compunction in this regard, altho quite a few modify their governmental and elective modalities after seeing what the other worlds do.
On a large number of worlds, split voting is allowed, a technique I personally favor. Each voter is given, say, five votes, and can give all five to any candidate in any race, but can split it, for example, 2–2–1. The “1,” or any portion, could even be for none of the above. Places that allow the “none” vote usually mandate a new slate of candidates if the “none” vote exceed 25 or 30%.
On a fair portion of these split vote planets, voters are given some form of bonus vote. For instance, as ascending levels of education are achieved, an extra vote is accrued. Some give extra votes to those with children or owners of businesses. It’s a very intriguing study for those who are interested in the field. Soon we will have access to the databases, to study the various modes of the elective process.
The current American system gives a state’s entire electoral vote to the candidate who wins that state, by whatever margin. A big step toward reform might be to have it work the way it does in Maine. The winner of each congressional district among the presidential hopefuls gets one elector. This would be an improvement over the system now in place, but as for presidential elections, give me the plain ol’ popular vote winner.
During an off-planet negotiation I was stationed at, I struck up a friendship with the interpreter from Remquilla. He was a doctor back on his homeworld, and I would pepper him with questions about health and disease. Because of the restrictions of the accord, he would not be very specific when discussing Urth’s problems in this area, altho from some of his answers concerning his own people I learned some things that were generally applicable. We have continued to correspond, and he promised me that he would supply more of his opinions and research concerning Urth’s ongoing and multi-level health crisis.
He recently sent me more than 300 pages of data from their studies of Urth’s health factors. This obviously is not the place for it, but I may share some of it in a future volume. I’ll allow myself a few short comments on this subject for now.
Cancer is caused by many environmental factors, often working in combination with what is ingested—in some cases, not ingested, as in vitamin and mineral deficiencies. One hidden but deadly factor leading to human impairment is the plethora of electronic frequencies, from radios, televisions, phones, wireless networks, etc. Another quiet debilitator is the use of containers in the microwave that were not intended for such use. (One of the causes of the decline of ancient Rome was the leeching of lead from their food and drink containers.)
As for the environmental toxins, lead, mercury, aluminum, many household cleaners (Rinse and Ventilate!), and certain substances found in jet fuel have by now been pinpointed as leading to an array of health problems in humans. Many “advances” in modern living, like the substance used in some fire-retardant clothing and furniture, are also harmful to people’s health. But I find it passing strange that the majormost effect of those elements, reduced intellectual capacity, has not been nearly addressed, except in the writings of marginalized researchers.
This widespread effect, working handnhand with the dumbsizing popular media and constant lowering of school standards, has turned the West—once the bastion of sharpmindedness and innovation—into a mire of mass mediocrity. But, God bless us, most people here seem pretty blissified, their time mainly spent on one form or another of entertainment.
Speaking somewhat conspiratorially, it’s hard not to suspect that more hasn’t been done to reverse these trends because the politicians, the mainmedia, the medicalstablishment, and of course the lawyers infiltrating and guiding them, all prefer a less intelligent, more docile populace, as they enact their machinations upon the citizenry.
CHAPTER 30
Personal Rants:
Part One—Television
OK, enuff with the heavy mental lifting, and before the some other serious stuff I’m going to get into, here are some satirical pieces I noodled out, usually after watching some boob tube. It’s based on a character writing around the year 2030.
I’d like to get a few things off my chest regarding today’s popular culture and political environment, starting with television.
TV here in the Westisphere, in its headlong rush into the electronic bowels where depravity and banality merge to become pure, unmitigated culturecrap, has shocked even me (an open-minded man if there ever was one) with their current lineup of programs. The pale has been beyondered.
I was raised in an era when television was a wholesome medium—not necessarily Einsteinian, but not every moment appealing so blatantly to the public’s lowcomminator. This wholesale pursuit of prurience and grisly violence, these exercises in vulgar excessiveness masquerading as entertainment, while achieving the short-term goal of sizable ratings, only forces that lowcommonator into downspiralingly more odious trenches.
In a compromise designed to get the popular children’s program, KoolKidsYo, back on the air before May sweeps, the censors at Nickelodeon have forged a compromise, as follows: For each weekly show, only one scene each of emitting feces (animals only), eyeball puncture or other eye gore, simulated decapitation, graphic brains or guts spillage (not both), and two instances of projectile vomiting, only one of which can be right onto the camera lens.
In a statement released by the show’s producer, Matt Kincaid was quoted as saying, “We feel we can continue for the duration of this season under these guidelines without sacrificing the basic integrity of the show.”
It’s only in its third season, but HBO’s award-winning Anatomy, with its skintingling trifecta of graphic violence, graphic autopsies, and graphic sex, is predicted to sweep most of the top awards at the upcoming Emmys.
Megastar Kieran Culkin, who plays the serial killer/coroner lead role, will incidentally have the distinction this year of throwing out the Opening Day’s first ball at Frito-Lay Stadium for the Yankees. For those who have never watched, his main M.O. is cleverly to hide the murder weapon inside the corpse of his victim, then extract/dispose of it during the autopsy.
As for the proliferation of these-type shows, when I was a lad, there was a show called Quincy, who was a coroner. Just that one show about autopsy stuff, if you can imagine the sheer boredom of life back then. Now what are there—about three dozen of them? What’s passing strange, tho, is that unlike the Quincy show and what I’ve seen in real life, on these shows every guy looks like a male model, and every woman looks like, talks like, and dresses like a high-end call girl.
The newest entries, if I have this straight, are, CSI Tucson, DNA Detroit, Bloodtrail, Forensic Philadelphia, and Night Coroner. I may tune in to the last of these, as it has the lovely Anne Rogerson, who was on that too-short-lived series, Repeat as Needed.
I never liked that there was so much violence on children’s TV (except of course when I was a child), especially after I read the Shining Station Symposium’s report on viewed violence and lowered IQ. This report included vidgames, virtreals, and holovirts, which are admittedly even worse than regular TV, but not something that can be changed by one iota. With television, the “entry drug,” if you will, for young children, which gives them the appetites for the harder stuff on the virts, we as citizens still have some small ability to influence thru protest.
But this new ’buster hit, Captain Destructo, with its promo of “If we don’t deliver 100 bloodlicious murders in the episode, we’ll torch the producer’s dog on live camera!” is more than too much. I don’t care if it’s #1 among the criticalportant 8-to-11 age-group, and #2 in the lucrabig action-figure market, it’s beyond the pale and quite over what used to be the line.
I know the Brits are always looking to gag one over on everyone, and their renovation shows are their best-received TV export, but their latest reality show, This Old Whore, where they do makeovers on worse-for-wear ex-prostitutes, has perhaps taken the concept a bit too far. (Nonetheless, they do damn fine work.)
Is it possible that we may be finally getting to the end of the so-called Reality Shows? To begin with, most of the non-romantic ones should have been called Extreme Situation shows, starting with the longest-running one, the protoriginal Survivor series, which placed (progressively more attractive) people in wilderness locales and made them brave the wild while fending off challenges and backstabbing from the other contestants. (But honestly, if I want to witness overinflated egos doing each other in by any means possible, I’ll just attend my condo board meetings.)
Which brings us to Fear Factor, which made stars out of people who were deranged/depraved enuff to do things that were foolish, gross, or both. As most of you should remember, that was finally yanked after they had a feces-eating contest—for a one-million dollar prize—and a riot broke out in the overcrowded gymnasium where the would-be contestants had mobbed together, killing several people. The show was buried by the lawsuits, and of course the “Dying to Eat Shit” headlines.
Speaking of lawsuits, I read in Variety that they’re thinking of bringing back Jumping the Sharks for a second season, despite the two pending lawsuits and one criminal case stemming from the first season’s infamous last episode. (I suppose all publicity is still good publicity.) I’m sure everyone by now has seen the final moments of the three unlucky contestants who failed in their attempts at 100-foot ramp-to-ramp jumps. And heard, as not only were the players outfitted with three mini-cams, but they all had four mini-mics–one on each limb–proving for all time what noisy eaters sharks are.
The criminal case, second-degree murder charges against the wife of one of the deceased, is based on the fact that she noticeably slowed the motorboat down as she approached the jump ramp—and the fact that she was overheard discussing the deed with a man who turned out to be her lover (including the amount of insurance money that they would share).
Back in 2018, when they first started Talk’n’Watch on CNN-E!, I was all in favor of it. Why not have a show where bikini girls in T-backs read from classical literature and academic non-fiction? It seemed a fairly feasible way to get the average male at least to hear something of intellectual value. (And females could always tune in for a listen to the educational readerial.)
But that was before it turned into what we have now—a vulgar parade of topless volleyball, Miss Nudecake competitions, mixed pairs butter-wrestling, and naked limbo dancing, while the crawl-graphic along the bottom gives you the excerpts from writers like David Halberstam, Oswaldo Martinez, and Zoey Summers. I frankly have trouble focusing on the material. (But I’ve resolved to not give up the effort.) This is quite simply a case of a good idea being near-ruined by being taken to its absurdiculous xtreme.
I know they’re very popular, but I find those ChippenGlow dancers behind the CBS NetNews anchors to be rather inapprope during stories of tragedy or catastrophe. Now, I enjoy a pair of oiled-up breasts as much as the next guy, but if they could just tone back the groin grinding a little during those pieces, or perhaps use some pix of still nudes for a minute, I just think it would be more dignified.
In the competition for most-shamelessly-pandering “news” feature during sweeps, I nominate Tampa Bay’s WFLA doing a weeklong review of The Celebrity Sex Manual DVC. (Even tho I will give them credit for showing the best scenes and positions.) And the little block-out they use seems to be getting smaller. It looked as if Leonardo was wearing a coaster on his penis.
This year’s Grammy Awards will return to being televised live, after last year’s was tape-delayed. For those of you with short memories (or snobby viewing habits), this was precipitated by the SheelA incident, in which the then-seventeen-year-old she did most of a song with short-shorts dropped so low that the top of her girl-parts was vividly visible.
Some accused her (the estranged daughter of gospel singer Christina Aguillera) of doing it on purpose, a view supported by the fact that she “mis-spoke” the last word of the song she was singing (“XXXcited 4 U”), the verse being, “Can’t you see I’m ripe for the plucking.”
The kicker to all this is that SheelA—now actively promoting her VampTramp Tour—will be doing the opening musical number for the upcoming show, but she will be behind a semi-transparent screen. Her personal producer, Jaxxy Mann, was quoted as saying, “They told us she could do anything she wanted, as long as she stayed behind the screen. This will definitely be her sexiest show ever.” Meanwhile, rehearsals have been on a closed set. (We’ve come a long way, baby, since the era when Ed Sullivan wouldn’t let the camera show Elvis Presley’s gyrating hips!)
With the ever-increasing proliferation of awards shows it was inevitable it would come to this. Not able to find an open date of its own, the new International Dish-Owners Awards will be on the same night as The People’s Choice Awards, and has booked a nearby venue so some stars can attend both.
As for the return of beheadings and stakeburnings as a means of death penalty execution, it didn’t much ruffle my feathers (and it seemed to placate the “religious” wingnuts), but the recent passage of the crucifixion bill (for killers of cops, judges, women, or children) seems to me to be an egregious overstepping of civilized bounds.
Acting for all the world as if the irony was lost on them, the Christian Right Party pushed thru the bill, which actually just removes crucifixion from the category of cruel and unusual punishments, thus paving the way for the states to use it, as had been done previously for the beheadings and stakeburnings.
But what’s doubly disturbing is the news that MSNBC has let it be known that it will pay a flat ten million per execution for the television rights to any of the three new capital punishment modes. This is double what they paid Texas and Alabama for their deathecutions several years ago (the Dead Man Dying series, or as some wags called it, Southern Gas & Electric), but they have justifiably higher hopes of big ratings with the new methods.
As ABCFOX chairman Brent Galling said, “The gas chamber executions were too low-action, and the electric chair ones, except for that malfunctioning one, weren’t much better. With these, we feel that we can give the public a quality network show.”
And more from those zany suits over at ABCFOX. They’ve slated a mid-season replacement for the faltering reality show Stalked by a Celebrity with a controversial new series called Out with a Bang, in which people with terminal illnesses commit suicide on-air by spectacularly videogenic methods. In case you’re wondering, the previous laws in California against assisted suicide were rewritten and quietly passed by the TV industry’s Sacramento lap puppies (during last year’s Indonesia crisis) to make it legal if done “for broadcast entertainment purposes.”
These violent terminations are all in exchange for huge payouts to the dearly departed’s families and (sad but true) the national notoriety that they engender for the about-to-be-dead, if only for their last several days, as the news shows and zines will undoubtedly want to profile them.
In the media package were some highlights from the already produced segments, including a man jumping into a pit of boiling oil, then swimming a little ways—well, more like flapping and screaming—while the camera does multi-angle close-ups. (You can tell they have a great director!) The deceased then just floats along, sizzling and crackling, while the house band goes into a down-tempo piece.
Also worth noting was the cancer-doomed woman who climbed into a box and was sawed in half by a tuxedo-wearing “magician” and his sequin-sparkly assistant. Rising above the duet of buzz-saw/woman shrilling—while the close-up showed the flying wood chips and a resplendent crimson spray—was the loud applausovation of an appreciative audience. It can truly be said that ABCFOX lives up to the billing of its slogo: “We’re Never Boring!”
I didn’t raise any objections to (altho I never cared to watch much of) the Life/Death Cable Network when they started with the Operating Room Channel and the Emergency Room Channel, as we defacto had as much already in the reality programs of the time. But what it’s lately become, with the directors hooked into multi-hundreds of hospital camfeeds so as to backforth to the most hot-happening, and the hyper-present sound tracks, and the “will they/won’t they” polls and betting pools are all getting to be too mind-numbing anymore.
The worst is probably the winner-take-all pool to pick the TOT (Time of Termination). Don’t they realize that these people have families? How many examples are there these days of inappropriate gambling, phone-in and log-in contests on the boob toob?
I may just be old-fashioned but I really don’t think that castration and dismemberment sequences belong on daytime TV, not caring that they are mostly dummies and special effects. I’ve never bought into the old canard that TV shows like Ghetto Hunt and Stalker James merely reflect society. The fact that mutilation murders have increased an average of 11% a year for the eight years that these sorts of televised atrocities has been allowed on the airwaves is proof enuff of its negative impactfulness.
Owing to the freedom we have in this society—and this epitomizes it—the cable show Mayhem is allowed to air its gruesome grossities unhindered. This is a show devoted only to showing photos and videos of people mutilated by car accidents, war, animal attacks, etc.
Fine-good by me, people can either watch it or not. But lately they’ve begun an assault on the rest of us by sticking their blood-splattered promos all over their home station and several others. They’re paying top dollar for the spot at the front of the commercial block for added exposure, invading people’s perceptions before they can fast-forward or change the channel.
The era of the anti-hero, or bad guy as hero/star probably reached its nadir back in the early Teens with Showtime’s Meathook. For the youngsters out there, this was a show that followed the life of a serial rapist/murderer (portrayed as a sexy, albeit edgy, guy) and always ended with a shot of a victim (nosy next-door neighbor, bratty sorority girl, etc.) on this huge meathook. It was a ratings bonanza, until it went down in an avalanche of lawsuits brought by the families of victims similarly offed by copycat “fans” of the show, and the furor over their last-season finale.
And who can forget that season-ender? The camera pulled back from his latest victim, a society matron, to reveal two smaller meathooks, on which her pet poodles writhed in final agony. Which proves a lesson I’ve personally had to re-learn several times: You just don’t mess with those society matrons. They’ve got their husband’s power and connections behind them—or his money, if he’s dead—and plenty of free time. And mess with dog-lovers? Pure suicide. Pet-owners in this country are more vociferous than anyone, outside of maybe the NRA and the Alternative Lifestyles League.
But as much as I’m complaining here, there’s still plenty that I watch, and enjoy. But I’ve so far never saw the need for the full hook-up of over 4000 stations. If need be, I can always request one of my servoids to tune into a station I don’t have, although their screen is relatively tiny compared to my 96-inchers.
While I had a friend and his son over to my house several weeks ago, I overheard the eleven-year-old say to his father, “He only has 800 stations. No Hong Kong, no Australia. How does he live like this?” I’ve since added both to my package, giving me just over 1000 channels. And the kid was right. One of the Aussie stations just had a Miranda Otto retrospectacular which kept me up very late, and last week I saw a great John Woo film festival on a Hong Kong station.
Speaking of retrospectaculars, a few nights back I viewed some of SUPERFLIX’s Natalie Portman tribute, where they showed all four of her Academy-Award-winning performances. All superb, but I wouldn’t have minded if they had added the two movies in which she also deserved the award: the gritty Nearly Dark, and the film that redefined and resurrected film noir, San Quentin Holiday.
And further speaking of retrospectaculars (well, a bit of bragging, actually) Bravo 5 had a contest asking for ideas for a twenty-four-hour Film Festival. Suggestions could include a particular actor’s movies, or a tandem (forxample, alternating Pacino and Deniro, ending with the three they did together) or a theme, like the ’70s, or a heist movie lineup. Well, I went a different route, and my idea won! I suggested the last sequel (the endquels) in eleven movie series. Bravo will be broadcasting them in about two weeks (with commentaries). That will be before this book comes out, but they often retread their Festivals, so maybe you can catch it at a future time.
Here’s my list:
Lord of the Rings III: Return of the King
Harry Potter 8: Private Wand
Bourne Again: Full Agenda
Star Trek 14: Galaxy’s End
Dumb and Dumber: The Final Pairadox
Shrek 9: The Grandkids
Get Smart 4: 99 Reasons Why
Matrix 5: End of the Dream
MIB 5: Alien Landing
Spider Man 7: A Web to Weave
Charlie’s Angels 5: Tit for Tat
CHAPTER 31
Final Rants, Part II,
the rest of it
Isn’t it way past time that we went back to some kind of limitation on money in politics? The Supreme Court’s ruling that all campaign limits, including those in McCain-Feingold, were an unconstitutional abridgment of free speech was an absurdiculous decision and led directly to the complete prostitution of political offices, uptocluding the presidency. Before that, politics was only around 50–75% corrupted, but now it has yielded entirely (and thus our government) to filthy lucre. And the thing about those with the massive wealth to influence elections is that those are often the people (more like loathsome creatures) who got themselves rich by dint of their general corruption and lack of principles, ie, greedy cutthroats who backstabbed and lied and bent the rules and buried anybody who got in their way. And once in office, the politician will dance with who brung ’em and defend the interests of this fully-gorged overclass.
The last two presidents of North America spent over two billion on their campaigns, Jeffries almost three billion. Jeffries’s opponent, a man so despicable that I won’t even type his name, almost pulled it off by spending a full three billion, including 14,000 holograms of himself (giving his blowhard stump speech) deployed to street corners and malls across the country.
After the money train, er, election, is over, we then invariably see the biggest contributors get important jobs in the administration, eg, Erksine and Smithson, who gave 75 and 100 million, got Secretary of Defense and head of Homeland Security. From those positions, they proceed to dole out humongous contracts to their cronies.
And yet there is so very little protest when this sort of thing occurs. I’m left flabberstunnned by it all, as people have become so consumed by their consuming, and distracted by their various entertainment traps, that they don’t care what goes on in their city halls or statehouses, or in Washington DC, just as long as they can keep on with what they’re doing.
Even tho we legitimately owed them the money (they had, after all, kept us afloat for years) and even tho we were able somewhat painlessly to avoid a horrible war, the anti-China rhetoric lately has become awful to bear. So we had to give them almost half of the gold in Fort Knox, and grant them silent partnership (at 8% of gross profits) in twenty or so corporos? The companies will get that back in tax breaks, and that bullion was just gathering dust down there.
I say we made a good deal, and why be mad at the Chinese, just because of that agreement and the fact that they’re out-capitalisming us across the world? And as for what’s being called The New Cold War, with China and Russia on one side and the NAU and EU on the other, let’s all keep an even keel and remember that a little bit of conciliation goes a long way.
I’m not just saying that because it appears that South America, India, Arabia, Africa, and Japan (long disgruntled with North America’s high-handed exploitation) are lining up behind the Sino-Soviets and their “fair deal” national partnerships. I sincerely believe that international cooperation and the avoidance of militarism is best for all the peoples of the world. Hasn’t our history shown us that? For just one example, look at the European Union. Those countries spent over two thousand years at each other’s throats, literally, with swords and cannons and bombs. Now they’ve seen the wisdom of “e pluribus unum”—from the many, one.
Besides, with our newly revived economy under Apportionistic Social Capitalism, things are looking up, and it looks likely that we’ll reestablish ourselves as a world financial force.
The Sign of the Times says “For Sale.” Am I the only person who doesn’t think it’s a peachkeen idea to sell the North American National Lottery and sports gambling rights to the Native Americans? (Excuse me, Nativians.) I was all for them uniting as an official nation, but they wouldn’t even be floating in so much liquidity—to offer us 130 B flat-fronted—if we hadn’t let them buy most of our National Parks with their (granted, long overdue) restitution money. That, and their casino profits, make them one of the richest countries on Urth.
Now they’re making back the sale price every three or four years on tourism (mostly to the Exoterrians, who pay in gold), the vast oil and gas reserves they discovered, and the harnessing of the Yellowstone supervolcano for energy. And they’ll do almost as well with the wagering rights if we sell out cheap in this moment (again) of national economic crisis. I say we hold the fort on this one. (Where’s John Wayne when you need him?)
I didn’t mind too much when the Major Leaguers began wearing the corporate logos on their jerseys. It’s not like everything isn’t covered with these logos anyway. (I’m even mostly used to the car and house ads by now, altho not the forehead slogos.) And the Fortune 44 Group did, after all, step in and sponsor the teams when the old owners were priced out of profit possibilities after the 2022 Players Accord. But what we have now at the ballparks, with the outfields painted with product names and sale prices, and the constant commercializing over the PA system (between pitches now) is just going too far for me.
And, as for the renaming of Yankee Stadium (what was once my favorite ballpark) to Frito-Lay Stadium. I don’t care if they did win the bidding with a 600-million dollar proffer for the thirty-year rights, the best venue in baseball deserves better than to be named after a crunchy snack company. The only consolation in this is that Frito-Lay edged out the second-place bidder, which was Ben-Gay, and the third, which was the ubiquitous Donald Trump.
The huge sponsorship monies from Wal-Mart, which at the last Olympics bought the oft-repeated tag-line, “The 33rd Olympiad, brought to you by Wal-Mart,” became, in 2028, “The Wal-Mart Olympics.” I knew they wouldn’t have put up 785 mil without geting front-center billing.
Announcers and commentators were heavily fined any time they failed to say “Wal-Mart” in front of “Olympics,” so we got phrases like, “He’s a great Wal-Mart Olympic athlete.”
Now I’m as big a fan as anyone of Electric Croquet, but I’ve frankly had enuff of these guys, whose average salary is north of 15 M’s a year, tearing up hotels and restaurants and whatever else and getting off scot free. This latest, Wes Gardner’s arrest for setting the Ritz Carlton helicopter pad on fire because he was told he had to wait an hour for an airport shuttle, is beyond irresponsible. I don’t care if he led the Denver Stickmeisters to an eleven-match win streak to clinch the title again (FYI: salary of 34 million plus incentives; he needs incentives?!?), but that fire nearly spread to the hotel proper, where thousands of people were staying, most of them sound asleep at the time.
We have to rein in these hooligans by boycotting their teams. Perhaps start with the Boston Blasters, whose Darrique Washington’s charges of public lewdness for his drunken rampage at the team’s annual Fan’s Barbecue were mysteriously dropped. (There were multitudes of women and children there, most of whom had never seen a naked 6’8” man on a trampoline.)
If the enviro-heads hadn’t spent the last fifty years pissing everybody off, maybe they could get more support in their latest battle against corporate excess.
Cingular’s outfitting of thousands of suburban birds (and millions to come) with tiny voice chips—activated y their warbling—to blare out their ads, is without a doubt the most egregious crime against nature since the marriage of Horatio Sanz to Hilary Duff.
Beminded that the NewTech political PAC, which Cingular helped co-found with AT&T, Oracle, and Microsoft, accounts for over 10% of the campaign monies in any given year, so you may have to get used to the little birdies in the trees waking you to announcements of “Wireless Supersavings at Cingular Today!”
I was a bit of a civil libertarian in my younger years (I voted for Obama, gosh darn it!), but something needs to be done about this pestilence of the youth walking around in their polka-dot underwear, bras, skimpy bathing suits, nighties, and pajamas. It’s very unbecoming a civilized society, and a bad reflection, I believe, on the parents. And just to add my opinion to the controversy about the shaved-head tattoos, they hardly qualify as “walking art.”
Regarding commercials (the lifeblood and bane of Western Capitalism), now that most of the stations have gone to the 30-blocks of 5-second spots, I’m waiting for someone to retro back to a 15- or 30-second commercial, where a spokesperson can mention actual facts about the product. I’m surprised no one’s done it yet, as this jumble of 5-second “flashies” is like a visual 30-vehicle pile-up, one after another of bombastic images, buzz-phrases, hypnotiques (light bursts, revolving spirals, etc.), and blast-phrase company slogos.
But if every block has more than one car ad and more than one fast food ad, or whatever category, then they’re just canceling each other out—while further making a mish-mash of people’s brains.
As for specific commercials, I try not to watch them, but there’s one that’s hard not to notice. I know that Jovan has a reputation as the most provocodaring commercial maker, but I was nevertheless appalled by the latest ad for their Taste It! line of musk, called Sexsational. (“Try it, you’ll lick it!”) If I want to see an Aframerican’s big tongue descending on a blond femcake’s lower stomach, I’ll dial up an X-line video.
In the latest example of the modern game of Everybody-Has-Their-Price, Playboy (after years of rebuffed offers) has secured the Olson Twins for a full-pose nude pictorial. The purchase price was not disclosed, but obviously was quite high, as Mary Kate said just last year that they might do it “for a billiony-billion dollars.” When asked to comment on the amount paid, Playboy CEO Bill Elliot would only say, “We’ll be fine—as long as we sell a billiony-billion issues.”
I know that I’ve done more than enuff bitchmoaning by now. So here are some things that I see as progressive developments:
Even tho I was originally opposed to the selling of one’s TFP (Total Financial Profile) to OmniSell, which then markets the data, I see now that the $20–30,000 the recipients receive (in exchange for the infodata, brand-name loyalty buying, and promises of positive word-of-mouth and coupon distributing) has meant the virtual end of poverty in the US. And as one of my friends says, “What’s an extra few dozen ads a day in the mailbox and the telephone messager, and forty or so extra things in the e-box, if your rent and electric and cable bill are all paid?”
It can be conjectured that there is a human need for adrenaline rushes as the vastjority of our home entertainment modalities are fear- or violence-based. The highsellingest holovirt from last year was MS-Sony’s Goblins and Gambinos, in which one’s living quarters are beam-activated with rampaging virtual holograms of monsters and gangsters attacking and shooting at each other, and anyone else in the house. For those of you who may be considering getting one, I strongly advise you to be absosure to turn it off before company arrives. Altho “accidentally” leaving it on did work when I wanted my ex-mother-in-law to leave.
Despite the international protests, I like the idea of paying the Izoreans (Moonglo, Inc.) to spray the moon in 2031 with an 80-miles-across red-white-and-blue emblem for the 250th anniversary of America’s victory in the Revolutionary war. It will only last a month, and the cost will be a rather steep 900 million dollars, but anything that pisses off both the British and the French is always worth the money.
One thing I had been lookforwarding to, the political warfare of the 2030 pre-presidential elections, seems now not to be developing, as all the major parties are coalescing around their (surprise!) richest candidates. But between the Democrats’ (The Last Kennedy Standing), the Christian Right Party (The Candidate from Hell), and the Patriotic Liberals (Patsi with an I), the general election in 2032 looks to be a barnburner. But whoever finally wins, he or she will have a helluva time governing this United Mess of North America.
As for me, I’ll miss a lot of those festivities. I’ll keep my unit on the Bucky One, but I plan to take up new residence on Moondome Estates. This will be in my fully-mobile condo (fully mobile anywhere within the twelve-square-mile complex) whence I will catch up on my reading, assail my memoirs, and stringently screen my calls from Urthside. I’ve gotten the green light from Webster’s-Johnson to work from there on the dictionary project. And I’m already anticipating the satisfaction of yelling out my window at the kids to get off my moonturf.
CHAPTER 32
Words of Tro,
as the Commander sends some letters
In 1989, Tro, myself, Corrina, Randa, and Komo formed the Service Corps Committee on Urth Contact. (Actually, it was still being called Anturia back then, which is its official name; but we decided at some point to go with Urth, as it sounds like “Earth,” and it’s an echonym of the planet’s first real city, Ur.)
It was decided to send a letter, hand-delivered by Randa to someone we knew at the UN (a contactee who was on Belgium’s staff) to the Secretary General of that body, Javier Perez de Cuellar. The following is a transcript of that exchange.
Dear Mr. de Cuellar,
It is with the utmost sense of privilege that I have this chance to address directly such a world leader as yourself.
My name is Troablo Tetrov. I am the Commander of a team of “far-foreigners” assigned to this planet; specifically, what is called the Service Corps of the official government (Astanian League) that encompasses this region of space. My assignation in this starregion is the Deklonia Quadzone, to which your Anturia belongs. Deklonia is the most recently organized sector in Astania, thus the most problacious. Since I am seniormost among my job profession, I am closely kept in your area, altho called from time to time to one of the other three quadzones. My occutitle is that of a Magnificator, derived from Magnifying Adjudicator; the “magnifying” referring to our psych-sensor abilities, or telepath-empath, as you understand those phenomena.
It is the largeshare of my profession to supervise the transition of worlds such as yours—those in the fluxform of contentious pre-maturity—into the ranks of membership in the league of fully civilized orbs.
To draw the Big Picture: There are many-many over-layers of govstructure aboveyond that of the Sector (1000 inhabiworlds in the eventualbe; 621 at present), but you will need-wait to know much on that score, as it is best-prudent that you masterstand one major level at a time. There is, however, one errspectual that I will immedely disabuse you of: With a few short-lived exceptions, there are no interplanetary wars in what you call outer space. Part of my occujob is to maintain that verity.
Just a bit more on the Sector organization, as I know this must pique the interest of a macro-politician such as yourself: In the overall organization of the cosmosphere, a Sector is analike a city that is a small part of a country, which itself is a small portion of a heavily populated world. So a quadzone (88 planets in Deklonia; 250 eventualbe) is like a city precinct, to use terms you are familiar with.
The majormost point I must-need impress upon you in this transcomm is the following: Any plans for fullish release of “UFO” data to the wider public is not in your or our best interests in this presentt. We are of the viewpinion that all this will be openated in the sooncome . . . just not in the immediate nowframe.
Our planaction for now is to continue as we have been doing—thru programized sightings, crop circles, etc—to inform the subject-focused, let form a cadre of attuned cognizenti . . . and go from there when the table is prepared. We must uplevel the languism (see enclosed Note on the Lexicon).
We have, by cross-patterned appearances to witnesses in every geograrea, gradually increased the number of people who believe in our presence. This strategy, while also allowing for declaimification by the centerstablishment, has been successful in that those social, religious, financial, and political institutions (on whose stability you all depend) have been almost totally unaffected by our growceptance in the minds of the public. And belief in far-foreigners is now nearly a majoritive opinion.
So I entreat you. We are well aware of your plans for a premature release of informta regarding what you call aliens, but it will not be the right course. For one thing, there is little to no differentia cited in your datafiles as to which far-foreigners are being referenced. We of the Astanian Service Corps are lump-bucketed in with the Rigmodians, a renegade race whose neghavior upon these shores has caused much discord and distress to your people. I am afraid that we will be tarred with their evil brush.
As a signal-proof of the actuality of my contingent, I will have make order to arrange several “sightings” for your benefit during the upcoming weeks. Following that, and after you have used your influence to shut down for the presentt the disclosures, we would be open to having you aboard one of our ships for a complimentary tour.
Peace and Protection to you and your World,
Commander Troablo Tetrov
“Tro”
A Note on the Lexicon
The herein presentation, and those to come, contain a high number of previously unseen words, phrases, and idiomatica. Reasonbe: We from the offplanet needquire a learning of one of your languages for-purpose the comesuing collaboration. Most of our contingent are accustomed to languisms that are several multiples superior in terms of communiception. This upstepping you are reading closes the gap somewhat for us, and will also prove to be a useful upgrade for the populace at large.
Thusfore we have taken the liberty of augmenting your Americanized English language, as we see it as the best of the myriad forms currently in use here. In the sooncoming future age, we expect that it will evolve into the planet’s main language; its Unilang, if we may suggest a name.
But in this nowpointt, the Unilang will serve our needs in communicating to your people. It should also be noted that the here-stationed Service Corps are requordered to use the indigenous lexicon at every possutility, even among ourselves. So, anything less speedhansive than this upgraded lexicon (which we still find to be ponderously sslow) would be severely limiting to our functioning, analike trying to swim in jellotin. (The current lang limits you as well, but most of you don’t realize it.) Without the improvements it would be difficult to keep our streams of speech flowing thru its lumberous density; as also our planes of thought achieving full vectangle.
Also-add, especially in the beginning of our relationship with you, it will be easy to discern that a comq has come from us, by reason alone of the languistic style.
In the coming age, the most scintilliabright among you will assimulearn this augmentation first, as a vanguard of the horizoning Age. To these will flow and accrue the plentious benefits of the Higher Association.
Allnall, I believe we have made a good start with this Unilang, which also includes many hundreds of new expridioms in its incluhension. A further addition, besides the expridioms and the several thousand neologisms, will be the addition of a few thousand key words and expressions from other languages found here.
How could we be expected to expand your vistarios in a languse thru which so many lawyers have spun their truth-evading intricawebs; a language in which diplomats have perfidiously cloaked their intentions and govleaders have glibly explained invasions as peace-keeping; a languism in which you’ve been bammed and boozled into purchasing products promising to be the panacea for your health and happiness; a lexicon thru which you have all been maxploited and dumbfucked over and again?
So, to use standard English while attempting to teach the tenets of a supernally sublime wisdom, after it has been stripped, beaten, and raped, would be analogous to dragging a dying horse to troubled waters. We need a wordism that has not been sacklooted by hyperflating admakers, euphamissive politicians, hackneyed writeporters, and nickel-a-word novelists. When I say what I need to say, I needquire that it not be in the same devalued words and idioms of the rogue’s corridor that currently holds sway here—those who have bastardized, trivialized, and whorified this once-wonderful language into a blanded husk of its former glory. I need you not to have any but fresh mental associations when you read my phrasings, not replays of the blitherings of the linguistic perpetraitors who have twisterated and nebulized English to suit their nefarious purposes.
It is entirely fitting, therefore, that you learn of the wider realities of the cosmos in this methique, in this newated form based on Americanized English. In this format we will interact with you. Those wishing serious communication with us will need-be conversant.
Let us together use this uplevel as a common ground upon which field we can, as different species within the same encompassed Brotherhood, meet and conduct dialog. We who have journeyed here in your interest have learned this communication mode, and hope that many of you, starting with the leaders, will do likewise. It is well within the intellirange of most of this people, and those who wish to increase themselves need only enter and take the necessary steps. In so doing, the much-more will be made open to you. Your prior imaginings of what lies beyond this planet’s pale will become as graying rags in the streaming bright of your newfound reality.
Dear Commander Tetrov,
Thank you for your ardent and extremely intriguing communication. You are asking me to believe much, very much, sight unseen. But I wish more information. Perhaps you can start with a description of what it is you do on worlds that you enter onto.
Awaiting your next letter,
Javier Perez De Cuellar
Dear Mr. De Cuellar,
You have asked to hear a better description of who I am, and what I do. I offer you this, mostpart derived from your literary phraseology, as a next-stage explann.
[Tro liked to play a word game—more of an essay game, actually—in which the two players would each get adjoining pages in the Oxford Book of Quotations, for the purpose of putting together an essay using the phrases on the page. Points were made for the number of inclusions, but deducted (by a third person, acting as judge) for lack of cogency, if any. The following was derived along that line, but solo, and from The Book Book, by Steven Gilbar, in which a list of quotes was set alongside a list of books, and the reader was asked to match them up.—A.P.]
When I am summoned to a place, I usually know one big thing in advance—that I am soon to tread the very verge. It will be a sphere close-cusping to either ruination or readiness—either a darkling plain or a dawncoming planet. But in this starea, that is my occujob. For nearly 300 of your years, I’ve covered the troublefront. And that means the skin-of-their-teeth planets—like this one; altho in truth almost never exactly like this blue place, potentially fraught as it is with both danger and maturity, yet defying the finality of both of these conditions.
From the silent deeping of an interspace run, I land on the assigned handful of dust. Being above all else an empath, I keen-feel the Havoc’s air, so swept with clash and confusion—where ate sweet the birds did sing.
Come to bring the new to the brave, I usually have enough world, but rarely much time. And amidst the alarms of struggle and flight, I study the sad histories of so many best-laid schemes gang agley—on planets too willing to let slip the dogs of war into the ignorance of night; on spheres too rich with Hell’s precious bane, and cakes and ale, whilst others in wastelands wither and starve.
I’ve set down on many other worlds whose generation was also brinking to be the last, and behind its egosumed leaders prepared to pass away, defending principles of politics or pursuits of power, or economics, or religions, or raciality, or halforgotten reasons bereft of Reason.
And where still might venture a wonderland’s golden warmth, some misguided powers-that-be would risk the years that are to come, and would crime a People down the perilous path to paradise lost, ruin’d; upon whose boughs the few yellowed leaves would hang and shake, and cry against the cold
It is at this juncture that I enter the tempest quadrille. My part is that of a skylark to the morning due, horizon proclaiming, blithe and profuse—to ensure that the sun will indeed rise on a future blessed with survival, on a soil best made to speed the plowshares from the swords of forsaken armies.
My art, tho not entirely unpremeditated, is noneless poured from a full heart. And I am ever aware, on an orb such as yours, that I am your introduction to the Universe-at-Large (and it is indeed that, with us on the tiny edge of it). It is everlastingly true that all creatures, great and small, mice and men, wise and foolish, fearsome and beautiful, provide the withinning bright of Creation’s circle.
So and behold! Let all admire this newcoming history that hastens to abide—when the ages of fear and unknowing are once and forever escaped; a world that has such virtuous people in it that seek and love all things wonderful. Hail to thee. Hail to Thee!!
Peace and Protection
Tro
Dear Commander Tetrov,
While I certainly appreciate the literary quality of your letter to me, could you perhaps supply more information on what the functions are of your agency, and how you interface with the leaders of a world? Also, what you would consider to be a timetable? What sort of program are you contemplating for your “introduction” to the people here?
Most Sincerely Yours,
Javier
[What we were planning was not yet a program, but an approagram leading to a pre-program, leading to a program. Our “approagram” was to begin an upstepping on several fronts. There would be more staged sightings, more and increasingly complex crop pictograms, direct contact via letters to UFO groups, publications, and researchers, and comm with specific governmental leaders, focusing on UN persnel and members of US intelligence divisions.
We would follow this up with face-to-face meetings with certain leaders in which we would, as we did during the Eisenhower escapade, explain our roletivities as representatives of the confederated planets of the Sector, and to differentiate ourselves from the rogue entities (the Rigmodians) who have caused so many problems here.—A.P.]
Dear Mr. de Cuellar,
You’ve heard the Chinese aphorism/curse about living in “interesting times.” Well, to say, my profession is one that transports me to places just as they are in the heated throes of their most interesting times. These might be Code-Alert Emergencies on the caliber of diopposed planet-colony showdowns, worldclusive religious wars about to erupt, clashing aristoblood famstentions threatening to half destroy some orb with their internecine confliction . . . or-instance, when from a grouping of enemied nations, one achieves superior weaponization before the others. Orr, as in the last place I was sent, where a deeptrenched worldwide worker’s strike had caused the planet’s leaders to introduce massacre as a bargaining ploy.
Other examples I could cite (not so much to brag or complain, as to bond-relate to you, a man who puts out fires on a regular basis) would be worlds—twice in my experience—in which the situoblem was a final breakopp of a racial domination, or the bubblepots where a greedster class creates a chokeful supply monopoly over fuel or water or grain; this to satisfeed the selfglutting of a rapacious elite. Orr, when a czaracter or criminal combine seizes control of a world for-purpose such domination that threatens the extingtion of that fragile flame, democracy.
Into likesuch straits I am routinely plunged, mast-lashed, three sails to the sturm. But I hesitate to give you such a one-sided falsepression of our “neck of the woods.” I should firstly note that, majoritively, conditions on the Sector worlds are, by your measure, utopian. They’re not all governed by ships of fools passing in the night, or runipulated by those who would cut off your head to spite someone else’s face. Being so often involved with the troublespots, it only seems that way sometimes to this many-times frustraburnt public servant.
As for your world, Anturia is technically only an Age-Prep assignma, which I also job-do, but one that is multi-fraught with dangerous emerguations, from nucliferation to the manyous close-brinking enviroclysms. Hopefully, with the aidsistance of leaders like yourself, you will soon be able to put the worscarios of the poli-military hightensives behind you.
For what purpose, you may well ask, are psych-sensors required for my profession? Magnificators are recruited from those with telepath/empathy abilities because they can thusly quicktermine the situatus of a world where they are called to arbitrate or adjudicate. While deepfeeling the plentious plights and problems attendant on such an orb, he or she can effectuate a parameteralysis better than a coldistic outsider, while still possessed—in the practitional sense—of an independent’s objectivity. And, in charting the players on such a world in distress, a psych-sensor can discermine the sincerely conciliatory (the shalominous) from the smoothly deceptive (the shaminous).
This so-far barely covers the tipberg of giving you an accupicture of my roletivities during the past 300 years. I’ve been on-duty interspaced to over seventy worlds thus far, on well over forty of which I’ve been requordered to somehow de-wheel a juggerstate, or go against the gain (of a greedster class), or rightaway start diploshuttling between continents about to use doomstone weaponry.
So, to summ, whether it’s a worldwide civil war, or continents squaring off, or a planet-colony impasse no one can solvulate, it has to be turned over to a Magnificator. And if it’s an especial roughsled, and others have bailed, the call is made to Troablo Tetrov—y-truly—the seniormost Magnificator in this region.
But usually not before it’s a horn-locked tooth and tong match, white-eye to white-eye. If they’d just call me earlier, I might only have to bell the cat, but the whatcur usually means I need to beard lions in their den. (This is a position that I am sure you can associate with, Mr. De Cuellar.)
But here on Anturia, which is a world we hope to give membership to sooner rather than later—for among other reasons, to help you save your ecosphere—most of our work is undercover. (The Service Corps has been transtationed here since 1911.) We first must surreptitiously survey the countries and cultures, the lorestores and religions, and determine the scientific progresstage that has been achieved. Over the coursetime of decades, we measure, analyse, infiltrate, quietly guide, and occasionally intervene (an example would be our actions at xxxxxxxxx Air Base. We also make lotsnlots of tables, charts and graphs, something else that a man in your position of bureaucratic highthority is well acquainted with.
Awaiting a positive resolution,
Tro
By the end of November of 1989, the plans to have a joint news conference chaired by the US, the UN, Russia, and Europe (with France at the lead of that group) were still being finalized. On the ship, and at our Belgium HQ, we were at the equivstate of DefCon 3. On November 30, President George H. W. Bush was on his way to meet with the Soviet leader Gorbachev in Malta. High on their agenda was cooperation on the “alien question,” and preparations for the release of formerly classified material.
In a very tense meeting of the High Command on The Pearl, it was decided that we had to intervene; it was just too early for such a massive (and potentially traumatic) revelation. Word was sent to Mr. de Cuellar, who was in New York, that we required an urgent meeting, one that could not be postponed. We gave him an address near the Brooklyn Bridge, one that his limo would pass by anyway on the way from an event to the heliport on Governor’s Island that he would be using.
Complicating things somewhat was our decision—the reason for the specific Brooklyn address—to combine his temporary “abduction” with that of a woman who we had to pick up anyway (for reasons I shan’t go into). Manhattan pickups were always problematic, and it was thought that it would be more easyvenient to do them both in one fell swoop.
We gave de Cuellar an address near the Brooklyn Bridge and promised him that he would have a meeting. The part we didn’t include was that it involve him being taken aboard one of our ships. But what promised to be an awkward conflation (simultaneous pickups) turned into—as the youth today are wont to say—a real clusterfuck. De Cuellar’s limo had four other cars with it, and we ended up taking several additional people, including a top Canadian leader. The others still in the motorcade were stunned into a short sleep.
Not having time to do a proper degermification on everyone, we left most of them in the holding area near the bottom-chute and dropped off de Cuellar, the woman and the UN chief’s two bodyguards (those three so he would be less alarmed) at a nearby isolated beach. There we stressed to Mr. de Cuellar the importance of holding off on disclosure. He was in a semi-state of shock, but understood the things we were saying to him, which also included a strong admonition about the planet’s ecosphere.
The whole thing took less than fifteen minutes from sitting in their car to sitting in their car. The others woke up and thought they had momentarily dozed off.
Mr. de Cuellar proceeded to mount an offensive in our regard, contacting President Bush and others and urging them to call off the plans for disclosure. This was accomplished. For this and his many contributions to world peace, Javier de Cuellar must be acknowledged as one of the truly great human beings of this generation.
And then came the letters to a UFO magazine, referred to in the first section.
(Letter #1)
6-5-91
Kissimmee, Fl.
Dear Aileen, [she was the Editor-in-Chief: A.P.]
After some-several meetings of the repras of the various participants in the plan being conducted on this world (which is, simplanation, to introduce your race to its larger family) we have conclusioned to establishate in a more marked manner.
While there are still many who are not readyceptive to our presence, we wish to upspeed our factuality to those who are. It is, however, our designed intention to allow some continuance of the uncertainty that has been a char'istic of our gradualation thus far. While some have wondered as to this methique, it is many-ways advisable overstead forcing a radchangerous realityization on the population. It has been my experience (and I am several times older than the oldest among you) that our fifty-year plan, with its unfolding progresstages, is psyc’ally better for the people as they come to terms with the newception.
There is also the matter of the stability of your stockmarkets, banks, gov’ments, socialtutions, andcetra. These are highly valuable assets and, mostpart, will continue as such; their wellbeing is high among our propercern. We sofore calcuplan an inchrement toward the eventualbe, which we envision as a friendly massceptance.
As a means to this end, we have decided to contacticate a portion of those who are of the open mind to us, proving our verifacity with such things as the pre-telling of dates for “sightings” activity. This will elicit the requisite credibility among the subject-focused, and allow the next level of communication to commence with earnest. Also, it is our planalysis, this foretelling “on the record” should lead to a ripple of attention in your mediastablishment, further broadbasing belief.
The first set of these dates is hereby set as August 8, September 1, and September 9 of this calendar. Look to the skies and accept in your hearts that the Peoples are as one. Do not be dissuaded by the stories that you hear of abuses by some portions of the arriveteam. Abuses there have been some, but more of misunderstandings. Much of what looks to be abusive is merely an emergency genetics program which is being conducted to save not only another species, but is as well insuring the continuation of your geneterial—as a contingency to cataclysm. You none of you realize how close and how often (and how still brinking) you as a race of husapiens have come to disaster: nuclear war, ecovironmental ruin (forsample, if the ozone layer gets much worse, you have sterility), that asteroid we had to deflect a few years ago, and otherings not-to-mention.
I suggest that you make some authoritation of this letter (notarize, etc.) and give it to someone of trust in the radio business, or such, then make certain to isssue it before the said time.
There are reasons for the wordism I am herein of usage, some to do with what we can compromisingly stupe to while maintaining effectism. Also which, besides being sslow to us, it has become hackneyed and desiccated by modern times misuse (commercial purveyment, politicism, etc.) and nearly bereft of natural impact. Also-add, in the times to come, you will easily know from whom you receive comq, for reason alone of the languistic style. This will protect you from joaxers.
Peace and protection,
Tro
There then ensued a backforthing of letters, published in The Missing Link, along with responses from the UFO group’s “Associates.” These responses were mixed, with several of the group’s members very suspicious that the writer was perpetrating a hoax on them. A more detailed presentation of the exchange, including letters two thru five, can be found at words-of-tro.blogspot.com.
Letter #6
High Over S. Florida
September 1, 1992
Dear Associates,
After much consideration, it has been decidiated to allow further the passage of time before we so directly make our contact with any group. The originated plan (before my attempted upspeeding) was for a late 1990s target-time for full openness. We will just return to those earlier parameters.
The information which I have provided to you will serve as a useful gauge-guide during this interim. As well, we may have one of the Primors (a regular human) handle the publication of some of my writings, but this has not yet been clearanced.
Altho I counted my vote against the resolution, it was without enthusiasm, as I see a dearth of readiness in the populace, distracted by so many things (screen entertainment is still so new to you). Moreover, and more to the argupoint, there exists a state of confusion, disarray, divisiveness, and unrealistic arrogance on the part of the majority of the subject-focused. The responses from “The Associates” sadly proved this. (Appropriate experiences will be provided some of these people at a soon opportunity.)
Too few are of the ilk of Aileen and Phyliss, and even Aileen was shakesuaded to suspect me to be a human gov'operative.
As to my rushful initiatives toward your People (in the finalysis, somewhere between a mixed success and a failed venture) I can only defend myself by saying that there existed a .50 chance of it accomplishing. Much is at dangerstake by an overly llong delay in the establication of our cooperative union. And perhaps to add that a soft conservapproach is not the real Troablo Tetrov. Besides also to remember that time is short, and I have used most of my years.
Apparently, the accurate predictions of the ozone status, the November meteor, and the crop circle eventings was not enough “proof” for the dull-witted among you. You might desire me to dance on the White House lawn.
But as for the crop circle initiative, I have become justified in my proposal of it. New polls show an additional 10% belief in our presence due to the agriglyphs, up from only 3.6% last year (after the first two years of our heightened activity). But I have learned much about how your mediastablishment acts as a heavy screen to real-world events.
Most of the questions in Robert J. Williams’s cogent and thoughtful list are answerable with information already provided in your present archives, including these letters of mine. Some others are matters of security/secrecy at this temporary time. The problem of course is to sort away all the material which is fallacious and disinformational.
For this you have your brain/mind, and your instinct/experience. What’s more, you have your spiritual perception. But I am told by the spirit workers that 95% of you have this mode in the “off” position 99% of the time. If this is true, it is the equivastate of doing office work with your eyes closed.
One thing which might be aidful during the next seven or so years is that I have found someone who might be acting as a liaison to your people. He is the person responsible for much of the new wordism (a base which I added considerably to) and is also the author of the alphabet system which I am including. I have given him some material to have published, which includes a manifold on this sector’s populated worlds, and an outlination of this planet’s history, culture, potentiality, andcetra. He has agreed to this responsibility, and only awaits our final decision to bring it forth.
As for this individual, altho he was only just recently inducted into Primor status, he has many fine qualitraits which recommend him for such a task. When he was brought to my presence, he spoke with a rare courage and idealism concerning this his native world—and lodged not a few complaints on its behalf. Altogether an impressive stalwart—one you can be proud of. Please accord him a higher degree of respect than I received, as he not only deserves such, but tends to act quite excitably when not thusly treated. If a positive reception is not forthcoming, you may lose this person from your precincts, as I have offered to let him travel/apprentice with me—which he has thus far declined. [Note from A.P: This person, Maxwell X. McCoy, had his trackative impla-unit removed in 1994, and has been out of comm since then. We regret any misunderstandings that may have led to this precipitous action and, on behalf of the Service Corp, I entreat him or anyone with information, to please contact the author. This can be done thru the publisher.]
Also-mention, the work with the Primors will continue apace, as will the reentrification of the Integrants into daily society. As for the genetics project, it is nearly finished, and will soon reduce to spot-adding and stock-maintenance. Much work will of course be going on in the area of hybrid training, but most of that will be conducted on-ship or at the bases on your moon—at least until this world is fully out of its several dangerstates.
As to Donald Nelson’s statements concerning language sounds, and the shortcomings of your current alphabet systems, I must agree. The many illogicalities act as an inhibitor to the educational process itself. All civilized races eventually advance to a pure’ficient languamatics, as will Anturians [aka Urthians—A.P.]. I could show you some of our native systems, but they would be next to meaningless to you. The sectorwide alphabet which we use in the Corps (Astanian Standard) is at presentt regstricted from dissemination to non-member worlds.
What I will present to you was devised by the local husapien mentioned above, and is in fact quite close in appearance to the alphabet of my top assistant’s world. The major difference is that this system uses four shapes instead of three, and hasn’t as many variations (double dots, wave lines) within it. I have spoken with the creatoriginator of this alphabet, and he agrees that it could/should be expanded to include also the other resident sounds found in language. He may contact Mr. Nelson in that regard.
As formatted, his new matrixual (called Alphynew) could be used as a transcultural “second alphabet,” allowing for facilitive comm between the many difvarious peoples of this planet who have their own methiques. On this subject, I should preseminate the fact that your world should be thinking toward the developation of a planetary language. It seems that the best way mightlikely be to use an upgraded English, with some/many of these new words that I’m employing, plus an infusion of a few thousand additional words from the world's other tongues.
I believe that this is all I will say at presentt. You may on occasion hear from me, but do not live with that expectation, as I just as likely won’t. (It may be re-prohibited by regrules from the higher quarter, or I may be called to one of the bubbling elseplaces of this starsec.) But trust that I will be following affairs among the “UFO Clubs,” and directing operatives at any given time to effectuate some or another situation.
I will, as a leaving-away present (and to reward the clear-minded) provide to Donald Nelson not only the ecliptical location—as per his boldistic request—of the last two planets in this solar system, but a more efficient alphabet system, which he also alluded to. A less detailed version of both of these will be allowed for Missing Link. During the years of the coming interim, this will give you people something more to chew upon.
Peace and Protection
Tro
* When you hear report of a triangular craft, with corner lights, you will know that I was on the scene. [Some of the “staged” sightings we produced were in Belgium—near our permanent base—as well as in England and Phoenix, Arizona: A.P.]
** The location of the undiscovered (by you) spheres: The tenth planet is located 11.7 below Anturia’s (Urth’s: A.P.) ecliptic, and the other will be seen at a radical 33.8 degrees.
Sedna was discovered in 2003 at the exact location Tro “predicted” for it. Sticklers might say that the prediction was for 11.7, and Sedna is currently listed as 11.9, but that’s accounted for by the strong gravitational pull of the second planet during the intervening years.
It will not be that long before the appearance of Nibiru, at 33 degrees below. This massive planet enters our solar system about every 3600 years, even tho its actual rotation is around the brown dwarf binary companion of our sun (as the most outlying planet in that solar system). I’m restricted from much comment regarding Nibiru, but I will mention that its location is the basis for the “33 degrees” of the Freemasons, as this is part of their secret store of knowledge.
Also, again to head off the sticklers, a “dwarf planet” called Eris was discovered in 2005 at 44 degrees above, but this was not mentioned, as it is scheduled for Sector Byways Commission demolition, due to its orbit being an interference with certain comets coming thru the Oort cloud. I’m frankly surprised it’s still out there.
Afterword
What’s always been oddly curious to me is the extent to which most people are incurious, and merely accepting of everything in life as “the way of the world.” They slide thru life, never seriously questioning the so-called wisdom of religions and philosophy, of politics and parents. They wonder little about the myrillion speckled lights in the starry realms. If they were transported to the Land of Oz, they would never seek out the Man Behind the Curtain.
I know I’m proscribed from telling much on this still-delicate subject, the ancient gods, whom the Sumerians called Enki, Enlil, Marduk, and Inanna, and known in other times and places by other names, from Neptune and Ra to Zeus and Ishtar. Regarding the latter, how many of you have ever wondered, let alone investigated, the meaning and symbolism of the statue in New York harbor, or the lady with sword dressed in robes on money. Or, even more salient, do you know the identity of the statue atop the Capitol building of your government in Washington DC—itself a city designed in a code based on the ancient knowledge?
As for me, I am cognizant of the fact that there were many men (and women) more intelligent than me, but what I had above most of them was an innate curiosity, the insatiable desire to know the whys and wherefores of how life was being conducted. What was the reason, I wanted to know, and the reason for the reason, and the precedent for that, and who decided, and how did they benefit?
Ninety-some percent of my countrymen here in the States are totally bereft of curiosity, thinking only about their job, their next meal, their next sexual experience, the night’s TV schedule, the new video game, the latest gossip at their workplace or neighborhood or in the celebrity circles.
But, from my earliest conscious moments back in Ohio in the mid-nineteenth century, I’ve pursued as a singular goal the causes and origins and destinies of things. This has led me down many avenues and across many boulevards, thru many portals to experiences and dimensions unexpected, to travel to all the continents and most of the countries on this globe, and visit several dozen planets among those starry realms, and even to be, here and there, myself The Man Behind the Curtain.
So, surveying now where I have been and what I have done, I am filled only with one thought and summary conclusion: Regardless of what body I inhabit, I am still young in this universe, and my journey has just begun.
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