ouroboros

up yours, Up Yours!

Without further ado,
let me introduce you to,
the six who,
make up the friendly crew.

They are three couples:

Fractal B fractaland Fractalla B body,

Fractal E fractaland Fractalla E emotion,

and Fractal T fractaland Fractalla T thought

but more about that later.

They, like us, are all kindred, but without, as of yet, progeny.
Here they are in succinct capsules...

The B’s are both nantronauts.
They are just back from a local mission to repair a few wayward HoneyDomes in and around Uranus,
but that is another story.

Both are short, plump, a bit dim, but o so jolly and affectionate with one another.
A moment or two in their company and one senses an immediate rush
of physical and sensual pleasure radiate from within and without.
Like being in the presence of infancy, it is impossible to be in their company
and not have the emergence of an involuntary smile.
And Lady B’s laugh lights up the joy bone in all who hear its gurgling, infectious jubilation.

The E’s are both Tale Spinning exhibitionists,
or what you would call actors.
They presently have small roles in the making of an epic visual Tale Spin
tentatively called
Will and Thanatos, The Final Daze.
A striking, handsome couple who, with their melodramatic mood swings,
provide an entertaining, highly charged atmosphere
wherever and whenever they make an appearance.
I especially enjoy when they plunge in and out of a state of operatic moroseness.
To witness such overwrought loco-commotion is like being in the teapot with its tempest.
And inevitably and inexplicably, as sunlight bursting from behind a dark cloud,
their mood will shift back into a brilliant rainbow of exuberant lightheartedness.


The T’s are both theoretical linguists.
They are taking part, with millions of other linguists,
in a massive and exhaustive overhaul of the Homo Marcion language.
The powers that be have decided to remove a few symbols,
what you would call letters, from our language.
Why?
Don’t ask. I don’t have the faintest reason why.
The powers that be claim,
like plant life,
the Homo Marcion language needs, from time to time, pruning.

Tall and thin to the point of reaching the outskirts of a bony, angular emaciation,
the T’s dazzle one and all with their verbal dexterity.
Both share deep, furrowed rows of parallel lines on their foreheads,
caused no doubt by the presence of their ever critical raised eyebrows.


With these brief intros done, let’s eavesdrop on a conversation 620 years in your future.
You’ll be hearing from us real soon...

END OF TRANSMISSION 31

ouroboros2