It's the year 6066 in the final century of the soon to be extinct Alpha Centauri Outpost. Unearthed from the ruins is the journal of one soul who watched his planet spiral out of control into a consuming madness of doom. Slowly, a portrait is painted of greed, myopic mania and a lust for death.
It is an Odyssey into Insanity.
Friday, June 08, 2007
I think I met the White Rabbit today.
I think I met the White Rabbit today. Or at least our modern version of it. He had been late for a very important date. I asked him why and he said vehicle trouble. You could see the rage steaming off his forehead. The Impertinent Car had stymied his Precious Plans and the thought of such a thing happening revolted him to no end. Things Such as This don’t happen to a Man Like Him. Without his Important Work, the world would stop running and Dire Consequences would unfold. So I asked what exactly the trouble was and he replied he ran out of fuel. Fortunately he was too busy with his own consternation to notice my shock and stifled laughter. With a straight face I asked why didn’t he just refuel. Like a parent lecturing a child, he clearly recounted, “I was late!” I inquired if he did not consider the possibility he might run out of fuel before he could reach his destination. He said that wasn’t something he wanted to think about.
I wonder what else he doesn’t want to think about.
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