TITI
CHAPTER 1
“That this thing should come and park itself at the bottom of our lake is, without a doubt, the single most important event of our time. But, that we should insult each other over it is downright stupid! This morning’s meeting of the council was a disaster, and ambassador Mieanph was out of line. The whole idea of draining the provider must have been conceived by a drunken man.
This is a tentacled crossroads, with too many options. Damn if its clear. And when the fog of politics comes down, all one can do is dig, sleep if lucky, suckle a nipple, pinch a nipple. Feel that gripping image. That moment from way back when, the dearest ones drenched, hiding glasses. Shake it off. The book of mules, ney, the right way, proper. Stick to anchor art, green lifesaver. The council will do what it does.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 19 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
“Ah, perpetual hunt, ongoing search, never ending quest…and obstacles? Why talk about obstacles, too many to mention. And now I hear talk of impending war against the tribes accross the lake. What a mess!
The diving team brought back new reports. They were able to get inside the chambers. Still collecting data. One item though, was left on my desk for me to decipher, but I must admit the symbols are unlike any I’ve ever seen. No reference. Pages and pages of them. Manta Pux has been developing a new decoder he thinks might help me.
Ria woke up in a sweat again. More nightmares relating to The Great Splash. Third night this week. She refuses to take her Inducers. Alternatives. I’ve heard of a medicine woman who lives deep in Fleeks. Tales of nectar potions with healing powers and effects of regeneration, an elixir of sorts. I will seek her out when I go investigate these reports of ‘A NEW PROPHET BORN OF THAT DAY.’”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 238 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
CHAPTER 2
“Academy. My studies in Electropology did not help today. The back panel of the unit was easy enough to detach, dismantling the thing was a different matter, though. After six hours, I had numerous parts on my workbench. A good start. No, as to its workings I still do not have a clue. It is a small device, the crafting and design of a make alien and wonderful. Alas! Salt water is merciless. Rust, corrosion. Eight months submerged.
The ministry is impatient. The engineers overworked and the press is thirsty. I’m hoping to gain a better understanding of their symbols by trying to understand their machines. I’m a fisherman. Various decoders work day and night attempting numerical permutations of an infinite likeness. Who knows how long. I have this feeling, call it intuition, that their search is pointless. There’s too much art in their lines and shapes, too rich and deep to be decoded by the non-organic. Not even Miracle Workers can touch this!
My office is a stack. Material. I found reference in legend, a cave in the outskirts has symbols which, although varying in stroke and curve, have several similarities worth investigating. I will leap to it tomorrow.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 426 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
“Being exiled is not such a bad thing. I get provisions delivered on the first of every month, and I’m not deprived of my art. I was able to bring my instruments with me and I get fresh supplies of paper and charcoal whenever I ask for them. Books are available. I have a screen but no means to communicate with anyone. My only contact is Ral, the boy who delivers my supplies. He’s quiet and thorough. Seldom forgets my requests, and, since I no longer have need for an eloquent tongue, or idle chatter, our exchanges are usually kept to hello, and goodbye.
It is an island. But the sort of island one would build a vacation house in.
Tomatoes are planted along the fence, radishes and carrots trail the backdoor. There’s a large plum tree in the backyard, and old rusty swings, once the playthings of someone’s children, move to the coastal winds and sing a metallic song through greater part of the day. There is not time. Can’t keep track of time. My shoulders are burdened no more. Time doesn’t mean anything once you drop your weights. I did my part. I’m a ghost. A ghost on vacation.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 742 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
CHAPTER 3
“I reached the Chamber at 7:15am and after preparing my daily caffeine, resumed my studies of the symbols. I’ve catalogued 3,017 so far. I’ve written numerous notes relating to each. I’ve broken down patterns and began associating their instructions, or my interpretation of their telltale, with the chamber’s mechanisms. Before I activate anything I must know its workings. Fortunately, the ministry has given me full authority to conduct research in the manner I see fit. I have a small staff working at Building 3, transcribing my notes and creating luminaries of the symbols. Manta Pux and his assistant are the only ones allowed in the Main Chamber.
It takes me a good half hour to walk the tunnel leading to the ship. MIN-23. Since the underwater expansions were approved, more and more veins. Shops next! I managed to create a 500 meter radius, very few have access to this area. The lake is not what it used to be. The nectar has changed everything. I understand the attraction.
Ria is at her sister’s and reports there’s looting over waterline. They don’t want underwater life, or ‘laking’ as some have begun to call it.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 385 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
“See through gauze, gaze through gauze, a door knock. Timbre broken, looking at the number 5 in green. Hours into it, paper now glistening, days, months. Figures to phaser. Plastic grows. I see the curve of the page and I understand the tilt of my eye. I feel the need to go to the small room upstairs, the one with the sowing machine, the one with the smell of tobacco and the opium cots. The ministry is self-sustained.
My right is to my right again. Vein pop. The belt, a snake for Polly to play with. I ask for, and get my usual, no questions asked. Vera Vermin is a gracious hostess!”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 422 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
CHAPTER 4
“Tavernakle with Grass last night. He, spouting tales of three-breasted women, commandants of the past. Nurturers. In power. Him saying: ‘what an elegant way to control!’ Regulators. Did not need birthing to produce milk, it flowed abundantly. ‘The ministry could use some sort of leverage!”
I told him of a dream visit to the woods, of seeing toned furred creatures dancing and singing in a clearing. Cries and bursts of sound mangling each other into a fantastic rendition of all-knowing force. Song. Such abandon! Their laughter and exuberance were infectious. I sat on a limb and watched the show. Grass asked what species they were…no answer. No knowing. Akin to the beasts in B’s paintings. Breeds of otherworlds? Sleep state, I know, yet they were so real!”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 111 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
“16 stadiums, each sitting at least 20,000, stand unused. 43 churches, 89 factories, 117 housing buildings in this prefect alone which, for various reasons sit unoccupied, sealed, owned and operated by bureocratic ghosts who have no need for them. We charge time to the homeless problem. We review the homeless. I’m almost done with my proposal. I plan to present it next month.
Oork is sick today. ‘Tunnel easy is life not,’ he spoke through his thick woods accent, ‘the dislike compression my ears and hard to food is come by. Thank.” He said as I handed him a Benta box. He’s one of a special breed, which in the streets they call hoppers. Homeless elders who once inhabited the woods as hunters and now live under bridges, under buildings and in the tunnels. Anywhere sheltered and dark. Their rugged, disheveled appearance, the strange, piercing sounds they interject in their speech, their pale and withered eyes -result of life in Fleeks- provoke fear and mistrust in most. They avoid people and people avoid them. They’re harmless though. Deeper in need, and most of them, like Oork, getting on in years, crowded with scars.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 300 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
CHAPTER 5
“Velvet and dirt line the ground. We tread above, 20cm to float. The field sustains us. There’s a chill in the air, and rustlers ping the sky with movement and sound. Shopping at Rex, to lunch at Blooms. Sit and read for an hour. We found a way to silence, temporary as it may be. These days we communicate like children do. Cloud-shaped lake. No duck pond. Veritable.
We visit Lett Stadium and deliver bread at the gate. Open: we are welcome. Salutes. We bow. Smiles are inside. We marvel at the progress, walk the perimeter. Matron nears and presents us with a bag of blue matos, “grown in the midst, Minister,” blushes “for you and the wife.” We open the bag to release the sweet breath and beam a thank you. They have constructed bamboo ladders at various points, set up flash bulb spots at entrances, lantern repositories, transposed the tree symbols onto stone, guides for the players. Ria clutches my hand and nods to young twins in matching garb, painting a lake scene up on a terrace wall. They sense us, look down and smile.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 892 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
CHAPTER 6
“One extends first the index finger, followed by gelatin, then substance. The rubber is tied around firmly. Careful not to tear the fold. If in need of assistance refer to the instructions. Remember: never pull the string. Once the substance begins flowing, relax. The sounds you’ll hear, possible visions, nausea onset…avoid paralysis. Participants have reported taps into areas of the brain. Visits of equations. Formulas riddling in patterns, dizzying…torrents of numbers.
My experiments within parameters. The cot, sheets washed, illumination: candles. Contacts notified, schedules set. Ria does not entirely approve but understands my quest. Supports my need to report. Ari is here in case flushing is needed. Her studies in medicine and nursing license have revived me on two occassions. The doses are hard to measure. I advance. The conjuring will bring new insight. Into that realm. Notes abbreviated. Temperature set.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 478 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
“Nefertiti is smitten. She paces the balcony and gazes unto the sloping grass as if he were to make, to be…an apparition. No saddled beast will bring repose to her heaving. I must not interfere. My daughter. To each their pain. To each their poison, all I can do is be a base.
She receives communiques. Her favorite words. Lately, addressed from the Pantheon. I told her he moves too fast. She believes she can catch him by standing still. Not a bad theory. But –
Ria and Ari spent many hours in the yard baking. Bricks and sheets of metal boiling hot. Sisters. Twins. My wife Ria cuts her hair, Ari wears it long. My Sunday to pace through the house and observe the family. Confectius is sprinkling powder on greenpies, the logs in the pit burn. Cat sleeps.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 512 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
CHAPTER 7
“We speak a different language. Our colors are reversed. This is not a problem but it is used as an example, a grievance. From embassy to presidency, his gain of power will mean funding.
Mieanph washed his hands clean. Orix unknown. Even after presenting documentation and Orix’s head preserved in koth but still, packed in the same velvet box it was delivered in, the council demanded “solid proof!” Bribery. Favoritism. Wealth of fat. Must call on maidens, in symbol, succubi awake.
We need a new strategy. Machine adaptations. I will arrange a meeting with our engineers. Scenarios? Believe. Trust not 3-headed snakes. Perhaps Vera could serve in some capacity.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 97 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
“Received communique. The passing of a dear one. Rooted so deep as to give life. So distant and forlorn, the passing of time. The great expanse not to travel on foot. Shock? I’m parsing through the surge…the emotions so tangled and numerous: which takes precedence?
Crazed with the sound of noon explosions, midnight bombings were dreams of the PERIOD. When, more than once, through narrow paths, hungry and destitute, confused and angry, forced to learn a new language. Abandon your dear ones, you don’t have a choice. You with genes of an ancient pool.
Will trek to that land. I must. Lit a candle and in spirit tried to make amends, though no amends were needed. I feel you through other dimensions now…I mimick your typing, this passion for coffee and nicotine and the spear of words to word a spear.”
FROM KOR’S PRIVATE WRITINGS, Page 32 – PRIME MINISTER OF TITICACA
CACA
CHAPTER 1
“7/7
Dear Nefertiti:
Winged, wiggling monkey, dodging bottle caps. Target, from Earth. Friends. Not hate. This incredible and complex game. These undefined definitions that become clearly defined with age. To feel something. Yes, must feel something.
The paper trail is wet, Titi. The pages dirty with mud and soil. That is why I’m here. My hands alert, and my mind clasping. Hard to detach. I sleep in it, bathe in it, sing to it. It is more than an apparition. This red liquid, bubbling nectar pond. My open eyes swollen with vision, needing to take it all in. So much of this is coming from a deeper, richer place, a place cleared of boxes. By the way, did you remember to turn off the storage lights?”
EXCERPT FROM: “TITICACAMAN LETTERS” BY NEFERTITI LABLANC
“The spread of nectar throughout the provinces brought about an incredible streak of prosperity. For 200 hundred years good fortune prevailed. T’s rule was empowering. Hunger, poverty, crime, bigotry, terminal diseases, and suicides, practically disappeared. It was as if evil had been bottled and transformed into little, tiny, very, ultra, super-small flowers, from which came the most extraordinary scents, and a strange luminescense that turned pastures into pools of sparkling lights. These micro-flowers had a healing effect.
Tunnels leading to the bottom of the lake were built at various spots, and access to the dome was available to all. The citizens indulged in mind, sex, and most of all, art. Systems were aligned. Commodities and common good were communal concerns. All leaders, all bartering. Harmony things, pink flushed. Caterpillar bond. 200 years. Average lifespan: 150.”
EXCERPT FROM “HISTORY OF TITICACA” The Elementary Edition BY VERVEL EENKS – Volume III, Chapter 7: “Bred not in captivity”
CHAPTER 2
“They come, riding fog, thirsty mules. A new breed with eyes on their arms, moving like hungry hunters, not yet poised to sleep. Inspecting valleys, terrain shifts, ambitions of the electric. Boasting blades and breathing machines, with ivory handles, and sharp edges.
‘Hares and boars: targets for today.’
‘Retractable springs under hooves make it possible to leap. Mechanisms are easily accessed through a panel resting between the mule’s ears, modifications can be made while riding. Leaps cover a span of up to a mile, though these settings are reserved for skilled riders. Not recommended for beginners, or persons with heart conditions. Apt to crick.’
– Item Description – From the Mule’s Box
Some say one could leap and touch clouds, all in the mule’s diet and proper spring adjustment. Reports of mid-air flipping mules have come from various parts of the empire, and numerous accidents have been recorded. Leaping mules will not enter the woods.”
EXCERPT FROM: “ANIMALS & LEAPING” Page 63 – BY MANTA PUX, Electropologist
“Decapitation was the preferred mode of execution. The ruthless prize of power. The long sword was considered honorable, and anarchy the supreme law. War. Permanent fires, sunless sky, the lake a pool of soot. The only bodies seen on its shores were headless ones. A sacrifice of ignorance to a spirit in shock. Magnetic nets and Terkel shields were used as protective devices against germ attacks, and Lie-Translators were mandatory. Curfews and checkpoints were still in place but impossible to enforce. Ziplock Tubs were used for bribery. More and more citizens fled to outer lands, some to the mountains, the braver ones entered the woods.
The forest of Fleeks became a sort of sanctuary, sacred, neutral, but nonetheless, dangerous ground. The trees stood as sentinels, their branches protectors of a word, the inhabitants claimed. In there, hunters were referred to as treehoppers. In there lived a different force. Invisible to some, electric to others, empowering by contact and respiration.
The woods were a dark place. All shade. Luminous symbols painted on trees in the Vils dynasty served as the only guides. Sound became intrinsic. The many perils newcomers faced were easily dealt with in two month’s time. This sense became acute, an amp.”
EXCERPT FROM: “FLEEKS” BY VERVEL EENKS – Chapter 4: “Neutral Ground”
CHAPTER 3
“5/14Nefer:
Carcass place. Burning boiler, dancing apparatus. Finally got through last night. Fresh instructions, purple paper. Hours spent cleaning up the shore. Human parts strewn. About. The stench is staggering. Helpers faint, some vomit. It is a slow process but we accomplish. Aiming: month’s time, expecting it to stretch. It had to be done. Millions of wars are being waged every second. This one was one more.
Noting good things, starting to feel a change. It is hard to explain. A newfound clarity of sorts. How is it that among the hundreds of people exposed to this human pudding, I remain unaffected. My experiments with the extract are showing results?
Thanks for sending the skybox, I’d been missing it. My dome will be the more pleasant for it. Think of you…come.”
EXCERPT FROM: “TITICACAMAN LETTERS” BY Nefertiti LaBlanc
“The founding of LeapMech led to a frenzy. Mechanisms were being produced at astonishing rates, quickly overtaking in sales all individual-target transports. Soon, the streets were buzzing with the sounds of spring propulsion. The crowded expressways? Ghostly vacanct as citizens found, or created new shortcuts to commute. Autovol industries was consumed by LeapMech. New partnerships. New feats. New laws. Cosmetically, cities began to change. Structures grew platforms. Traffic from building to building.
Leaping stations were created. Aluminum slabs with vantage points, which people used, but mostly for recreation.”
EXCERPT FROM “HISTORY OF TITICACA” The Elementary Edition BY VERVEL EENKS – Volume II, Chapter 2: “LeapMech”
CHAPTER 4
“10/11: As for Mieanph, he is plugged in the edge. Just black velvet box, the Orix head, the private secretary who, today was sent. Before he lets out the cloud of Glanm, in addition, as for him, five basins of the Ziplock, 1 because every day was sent. That it requires? The kiloters of surrender, 200 of the seashore; Agree to flowing out the lake, the poison breathe. Word goes everywhere fast. When being these ways, the diplomacy which is done again to define. ”EXCERPT FROM: “TITICACAMAN LETTERS” BY NEFERTITI LABLANC
“Titicacaman carried the remote control device of the worker of miracles of intermediate class, MW600, wrote the pantheon which has the dog which lays idle sour glance. As for him, the walking which looks at the floor, defiant crowd? It is: ‘As for me namely so, no? It can obtain, my pants, as for me which looks at those? As for the Wan it sees?’ For crowd him booed. He bent, like the wild monkey indicated the makings which it turned. The people deceive. Stop! That arm which he increased in order to become silent the Throng. The Shhh! Delays the MW600, the button was pushed. As for this the noise, whose is slow from crowd…you panted, induced the beam creaking of the wood.
Great power the unleashed way as for that you felt. In regard to rising fluttering. Hundreds, small-sized electro- bats which are discontinued from the dome, took flight namely the wing which was opened with fast fall. Fearfully is, and others the spectator: ‘Titicacaman! You who is something and are done?!’ As for the Titicacaman gust, it flew through the bat chat which the room can be amused with formation central.”
EXCERPT FROM: “FLEEKS” BY VERVEL EENKS – Chapter 7: “Folk Tales”
CHAPTER 5
“‘The it is the it is to rise to the air, and the stealth of the speed which groans, sweet smell doing. Collapse that, urinate, designate the acid of all fibers to the net of virus. Release the magnetic grasp of the enemy of the lake as fog condition it advances. The petal which ‘designates the lake as the slave above this, jumps the fish which has navigated.’– Excerpt from motivational speech by General Krux
The rage at Kahtern stands out. Fulcrum. 2 years, gigantic measures facilitated, a magnetic net over the lake, forms it: inaccessible. Those who tried to remove it zapped a deadly charge. Those, who tried to burn it, its efforts, for, to, frustrated. Not to ever burn, a blanket, ‘out of service,’ impenetrable. The lake became a deserted mockery. A glass to greed. So, it came to, acres of forest land were stripped and appropriated. Dwellers and treehoppers were pushed further in or out.”
EXCERPT FROM: “FLEEKS” BY VERVEL EENKS – Chapter 6: “Kahtern”
Kamger: “Sounds in Fleeks like feasts thrown daily. Heard new beings roam around with a step all their own. Exalted.”
Titicaca Daily: “These new beings, where did they come from? Are they dangerous?”
K: “We think from the object at the bottom of the lake. Where they are from originally? Who knows. They’re loud cacklers. Mostly heard on the western line. So far they have not posed a threat.”
TD: “What do they look like?”
K: “Well, hard to say, what I’ve seen has been through night goggles and from a distance. Fur all over. Glowing eyes, sharp smiling teeth.”
TD: “Why do you think they are in Fleeks?”
K: “We’re in the process of investigating that, so far we know their activities are akin to ceremonies.”
THE TITICACA DAILY – LOREN BOX’S BOX (Excerpt from interview with Kamger – Gatekeeper)
CHAPTER 6
President Mienph:“The person secretary-general, the president, the representative, and the woman and the gentlemen you distinguished. As for us which bring sorrow in many citizens of the meeting, and our worlds where attack of the terrorist brings sorrow in my country. Yesterday, we remembered the false life which is taken, terrible morning. Today, as for us there is no hallucination of protection of other life and it turns to the urgent obligation which does not have fear. We achieved many of last year and the other side. However in us, many there is, and the other side in order to do. It is displayed here, it confronts entire fear swaying, it connects many nations, the people appreciate.
United lake withstood with desire and island war, desired and continued in the world where it moves to justice, opposition to fear old pattern it escapes. Peace of the lake will and wickedness must be destroyed, every human, never, for the second time, the establishment member solved. Being different from the league of islands, us, consideration speaks from many, because it drew up the guarantee, national assembly, more than the request 
which is decision. After formation of the dictator of the lie and treaty and the squandered life which is broken, us it lifts up to the standard of dignity of the human who is shared by, entirely, protecting the system of guarantee entirely.
Today, these standards and this guarantee are challenged. Our responsibilities to dignity of the human and the sickness which rages are challenged in accordance with the destitution which is durability. Hardship is large, our responsibilities clear. Being the place where it is needed desperately, in order to bring the prosperity and trade extending and the medical care which it brings the lake reaches to the world and the people in help of supply, raises life, it has connected. As a sign of our responsibilities to dignity of the human, the lake returns to shadows. (Applause)
This constitution is improved, joins to delegation sufficiently in order to advance human rights and allowance and study. Our common guarantees are: religion dispute ancient race, but the opposition, Titicacaman, which is not avoided and is challenged. In the middle island, and Kahtern, as for peace for either side, which is not free for both sides, it is not possible with not to be. Lining up, the standpoint which has lived and is entrusted became independent, peace you guarantee to democracy. Like Kor’s republic and all other people, the person function does their interests which are worthy of government, hears their voices. When we in fairness pursue the wide-ranging solution to opposition, simultaneously it continues to encourage my nation in order to walk party everything to responsibility.”
PRESIDENT MIENPH’S ADDRESS TO THE UNITED ISLANDS COUNCIL: The lake returns to shadows
CHAPTER 7
“444/17Dear Nefertiti:
To tell, can not, how glad he is here to help. He has become my voice in the carnal, my presence public. His devotion keeps me alive, your gown keeps me dressed. Nightly sounds of typing, fumes and juice to fuel the engine. Clocks doubled up in speed…a stomach. Image yours, father’s balcony…don’t wait. The Pantheon builds and feeds itself. My one. You will see it someday, city of cities!
Will try to visit tonight, though nights, these ones, healthy air, fresh, temperatures right, not to pass. They aid development and tracking is essential. Diet steady? Cling to dream. It helps. The stones, the grey, from corner to corner in this massive temple. The runs are to take the breath, the leaps to tweak the jaw. Lovely.”
EXCERPT FROM: “TITICACAMAN LETTERS” BY Nefertiti LaBlanc
“It is known Vera Vermin assisted Prime Minister Kor by providing information in a clandestine fashion. Both leaders were known to frequent her dens at various times throughout the period in question. It is also known Ms. Vermin instructed certain employees on the art of coaxing and rewarded their participation, particularly an entertainer who in the books is referred to as Mistress Val, a favorite of president Mieanph.
Through photographs and recordings, by belt extraction, through altered administration of doses, Ms. Vermin, provided Kor with valuable details relating to the opposition’s plans.”
EXCERPT FROM “HISTORY OF TITICACA” The Elementary Edition BY VERVEL EENKS – Volume IV, Chapter 2: “Vera Vermin’s Dens”
MAN
CHAPTER 1
“They say he eats bees and that is why he’s so jumpy. Some say he has a fold of skin that looks like a cow’s tit coming out of his forehead, and that he never cleans himself after defecating, that he doesn’t need to.
I’ve heard stories of women who claim he visits them at night, in their dreams. That he puts flowers around their breasts, and writes, in beautiful script: “You are my Nefertiti” on their bellies. He always wears the same clothes. He owns a large lake. Some people call him the invisible doctor.”
EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONE: “The Mysterious Prophet” – BOOK OF TITICACA
“He faced the buzz of the crowd, biting beans and peeling artichokes. He disrobed and bade them remember the Virginal Tongue, the first word. We got some wonderful shots but, unfortunately, his staff demanded we destroy the film. Our questions about the lake? Unanswered. “How’s the fishing?” He wrote a book about it. And, who are those fantastic creatures who follow him? They’re not entirely human I can tell you that much!
Inventor, salience seeker, nectar-taker, liberator. In person, apt to disappear. Impossible to interview over the phone. Earlier this month, he was seen parachuting into the most secluded forest area of Fleeks. Instrument maker, ignorant scientist, who is this Titicacaman?”
THE TITICACA DAILY – FLOR VILS (“People and Places” Column)
CHAPTER 2
“Even when familiar to everyone in the broadest strokes, upon closer attention an artist’s career might offer notes of considerable interest. We discovered as much on a recent afternoon that found one of your favorites in an expansive mood.
Raised at the southern tip of a centennial scream by parents of distinct backgrounds (his father was a piped-in click-track, his mother the keening of a half-released brake), Titicacaman was apprenticed at a tender gauge to the quick-fading echo of a dropped penny. Mingled chants and shuffling greeted his public debut as an opening jar of waves, dogs paddling inward from its perimeter to bark at a passing steamer. Like many a flat rock and bowed record before him, he skipped conventional schooling to enroll in a culvert of shattering paper and folding glass. There he made key discoveries in the archived notes of the bass staff, soon published in the official organ of the Orificial Organ Brotherhood. A minor bridge carried him over striped bovines and through wind-shuddered chain-link into the field of open-palmed schoolyard percussion. Subsequent years, as every child knows, have found him working with time-blackened leaves, Lilliputian chickens scratching worms from their holes, and excess brain of uncatalogued varieties. Asked for a final word for readers, his arguably anomalous choice was hello.”
THE TITICACA DAILY – S – BY YOEL MITH (Entertainment Section)
“13 creatures formed a circle around an object. They became a shield, a shelter, blocking the object from view. Curious, I approached the circle, the creatures hissed. Meekly, I returned to my spot. These beings were a strange breed. Mostly human, they stood and moved like humans do, but they had feline traits, a curvature of the spine, and raptor eyes. They were mostly naked except for leaping shoes and a strange sort of armor covering their vital parts. Their arms were entwined, locked together in a strong stance. Straight. Their eagle-like eyes wide open, hardly blinking. Why were they guarding this object?
Waited. Curiosity gnawing. Impatience told me to gain a vantage point so I released my springs and leaped. I flew over them, circling slowly, telling myself I would only peak, get close enough to discern. The aerial view showed me the object was curled in a fetal position. Looked like a body. I tried to get closer, but the creatures would not let me. I returned to my initial, distant spot.
“What is it?” I asked with a shout, cupping my mouth so they could hear me. Silence. I asked again: “The object, what is it?” Stares to silence an earthworm. A few more minutes went by, my curiosity was so great I could not leave. I found a shady spot under a tree and settled myself to see what, if anything, would unfold. The wall was still, sand peppered the ground.”
EXCERPT FROM: ACCOUNTS OF THE PROPHETS – “THE BIRTH OF TITICACAMAN” PROPHET BEEL
CHAPTER 3
“Cold feet, wash stones. Revolving eyes, a paradox of. Recite. Prime. Ye, who fade the fog into light, forgive. Transient fish. Bearable. May this day reach into eternity and bring back its rewards. Fruitful. Your absence is the void. A dirt hole, treacherous and hidden. Tucked away with the inhalings of the pulse. Ye who fade the denim and drip the tank, bring us our morning. Pack dream night. A pleasant countdown. Hairless body.”Litany #4 – BOOK OF TITICACA
“Since that ever-one day, in the sands, on the western fringe of Poklax. I saw the ships circling before the one descended. I notified the ministry and illustrated my vision. No mistaking. No believing. Hooked. I let them block my fingerprints and erase my name in exchange. Unloaded my possessions on hoppers. Cut my citizen card to bits. I’m on their employ. Tap their resourcesand send daily reports. Nothing.
Mornings and afternnons I spend at the desert patch of first contact. I extract nectar from the root, mix it with buds and hallucinate. I’ve seen nothing and it is the finest sight of all. Amazing silence. Reptile tonguing it. Nights are much too dangerous. Copters fly low, they bathe an ocean of light, their mission is a do-good, but the way they go about it is a violation, a nerve-prick. They will not let the sky be still. ‘What better place to find the truth?’ Their slogan reads. They spread their wiry, metal arms over the city like it needs a hug! No passsage too deep in their 100-vex radius.”
EXCERPT FROM: ACCOUNTS OF THE PROPHETS – “SENTINEL” PROPHET BEEL
CHAPTER 4
“The extent which note of the extensive mythological scissors, gold, and is the beautiful example in this one, and is lost, almost, it was played back, it is small. Some way where that sounds, the very, the hallucinatory of noise, always healthy collage of transfer, sound, appliance and voice improvisations, you find the percussion instrument, the rotary board, and many.
Those exceeding recognition frequently, when being tweaked appliance, before occasionally is disordered and, disassembling for the second time in form because for a while, it congeals. As for the school of the Shimmering of the blue rubber, make fish passing by the bright orange water, the loop of the mumbels of the wiggle and the scream tension of the noir of the illusion which echos, the wonder of the song adding the plant of the bird, is created to small engine power you desire by thinking.
From your body on the wood, floating was repeated, but high, escaping making form remember always, it sprinkled your death completely with ‘the Hellos’.”
EXCERPT FROM: “DREAM TALK” BY LOREN BOX
“It’s very hard to tell which story is true, and quite frankly, it doesn’t matter since they’re both extraordinary and make for perfect tea talk. It’s up to you who to believe: where’s your heart.
We’re at a point where propaganda posters and ‘TRUST-NOT’ sentiments are choking our very senses. I for one refuse to believe those malicious rumors. Stinging hate. And even if they are true, maybe there were reasons unknown to us? Besides, who are we to judge? Let’s bask in our need for drama people, but remember that, to condemn is to knock over your martini!”
THE TITICACA DAILY – FLOR VILS (“People and Places” Column)
CHAPTER 5
A CACTI MA TINA CACTI AM TIN
A CACTI MAN IT
A CACTI TAM IN
A CACTI MAT IN
A CACTI AN TIM
A CACTI AN MIT
A CACTI TAN IM
A CACTI ANT IM
A CACTI NAT IM
A TACTIC MAIN
A TACTIC MA INA TACTIC AM IN
A TACTIC MAN I
A TACTIC AN IM
A CACM TITIAN
A CACM AINT IT
A CACM ANTI IT
A CACM TINA IT
A CACM TAINT I
A CACM TITAN I
A CACM AN I TIT
A CACM AN I ITTA CACM TAN I IT A CACM ANT I IT
A CACM NAT I IT A CACM AT I TIN
A CACM AT IN IT A CACM TAT I IN A CIA MAC TINT
A CIA CAM TINT A CIA CAN MITT
A CIA CAN’T TIM
A CIA CANT MITA CIA ACT MINT
A CIA CAT MINT
A TITANIC MAC
A TITANIC CAM A MICA INTACT
A MICA CAN TIT
A MICA CAN ITT A MICA CANT IT A MICA ACT TIN
A MICA CAT TIN
A MICA TACT INA MICA TAN CIT
A MICA ANT CIT A MICA NAT CIT
A MANIC TACIT A MANIC ATTIC
A MANIC ACT IT
A MANIC CAT IT
A MANIC TACT I A MANIC AT CIT A MANTIC ACT I
A MANTIC CAT IA INCA MAC TIT A INCA MAC ITT
A INCA CAM TIT
A INCA CAM ITT
A INCA ACT TIM A INCA ACT MIT A INCA CAT TIM
A INCA CAT MIT
A INCA TACT IM
A INCA TAM CIT
A INCA MAT CITA CAIN MAC TIT
A CAIN MAC ITT
A CAIN CAM TIT
A CAIN CAM ITT
A CAIN ACT TIM
A CAIN ACT MIT A CAIN CAT TIM A CAIN CAT MIT
A CAIN TACT IM A CAIN TAM CIT
A CAIN MAT CITA ANTIC MAC IT
A ANTIC CAM IT
A ANTIC ACT IM
A ANTIC CAT IM A ANTIC MA CIT A ANTIC AM CIT A INTACT MAC I
A INTACT CAM I
A TACIT MAC IN A TACIT CAM IN
A TACIT CAN IMA ATTIC MAC IN
A ATTIC CAM IN
A ATTIC CAN IM
A MAC CAN I TIT
A MAC CAN I ITT
A MAC CANT I IT
A MAC ACT I TIN
A MAC ACT IN IT
A MAC CAT I TIN
A MAC CAT IN IT
A MAC TACT I INA MAC AINT CIT
A MAC ANTI CIT A MAC TINA CIT A MAC AN CIT IT A MAC TAN CIT I
A MAC ANT CIT I A MAC NAT CIT I A MAC AT CIT IN
A CAM CAN I TIT
A CAM CAN I ITT
A CAM CANT I ITA CAM ACT I TIN
A CAM ACT IN IT
A CAM CAT I TIN
A CAM CAT IN IT
A CAM TACT I IN
A CAM AINT CIT
A CAM ANTI CIT
A CAM TINA CIT
A CAM AN CIT IT
A CAM TAN CIT I
A CAM ANT CIT IA CAM NAT CIT I
A CAM AT CIT IN
A CAN ACT I TIM A CAN ACT I MIT A CAN ACT IM IT A CAN CAT I TIM
A CAN CAT I MIT
A CAN CAT IM IT A CAN TACT I IM
A CAN MA CIT IT
A CAN AM CIT ITA CAN TAM CIT I
A CAN MAT CIT I
A CAN AT CIT IM A CAN’T ACT I IM
A CAN’T CAT I IM
A CAN’T AIM CIT
A CAN’T MA CIT I A CAN’T AM CIT I A ACT CAT MINI
A ACT CAT IM IN
A ACT MAIN CITA ACT MACIT IN
A ACT AMCIT IN A ACT MAN CITI
A ACT AN CITIM
A CAT MAIN CIT
A CAT MACITIN
A CAT AM CITIN A CAT MAN CITI
A CAT ANCITIM
TACTICIAN MA
TACTICIAN AMMANIAC TACIT MANIAC ATTIC
MANIAC ACT IT
MANIAC CAT IT MANIAC TACT I
MANIAC AT CIT
CAIMAN TACIT CAIMAN ATTIC
CAIMAN ACT IT
CAIMAN CAT IT
CAIMAN TACT ICAIMAN AT CIT ATTICA MANIC
ATTICA MAC IN
ATTICA CAM IN ATTICA CAN IM
NCAA CIA MITT
NCAA MICA TIT
NCAA MICA ITT
NCAA TACIT IM NCAA ATTIC IM
NCAA MAC I TITNCAA MAC I ITT
NCAA CAM I TIT NCAA CAM I ITT NCAA ACT I TIM NCAA ACT I MIT
NCAA ACT IM IT NCAA CAT I TIM NCAA CAT I MIT
NCAA CAT IM IT NCAA TACT I IM
NCAA MA CIT ITNCAA AM CIT IT
NCAA TAM CIT I
NCAA MAT CIT I
NCAA AT CIT IM MANIA TACTIC
MANIA ACT CIT
MANIA CAT CIT
ANITA CACM IT
ANITA MAC CIT ANITA CAM CIT
ATTAIN CACM IMANA CACTI IT
MANA TACTIC I
MANA ACT CIT I
MANA CAT CIT I
ANA CACTI TIM
TITICACAMAN TITICACAMAN TITICACAMAN TITICACAMAN TITICACAMAN
FROM PROPHET BEEL’S SKETCH BOOK (Fragmentation exercise: mirror notes)
CHAPTER 6
“Crippled beast you don’t fuck me! Step back curdled spirit…witch of stupor, slob criminal…thief impaled. This is my ascent. Your clouds and venom hurt me no more. I’m immune. I’ve swallowed your poison too many times, the taste of it is candy to my buds. Foaming bitch your neck I will fuck. Bleeding cunt your hole I will sow so you breed no more of your faithless minions. You want war? This is my desert. These are my snakes, your hair. I’ll sink my teeth into your flesh and let go not until I rip it off. I will eat you fucking sloth. Never again will you gain entrance into my den!”FROM PROPHET BEEL’S BOOK OF POEMS: “CRIPPLED BEAST”
“Bells toll. I hear them, see them through windows. Incessant ringing for those cut. Those bleed. Them who, through no fault of their own defecated their last shit for a blind cause to greed the feeding fuck.
Brute. You call me out? I am here. I can be there. Wherever you please. Be. Forewarned. My blades are sharp. Sharpened to slice you. I will not retreat. Your feats are nothing to me. Your calls are those of weeds in rosegardens.
Brute. You who tread on my daily bread with muddy feet and fungus. Fool. You who smile and call me cute. I will. With golden locks and pink ribbons. Fuck you up. I will. With lace, and, powder, and, sugar, rip your fucking heart out. Brute. You who protect me knowing well your walls imprison, knowing well your voice is grating. Sing no more.
These lullabies you try to endear me with are love poems for the weak. You think I am your nation? Streak the me and I shall lion your fucking eyes.”
FROM PROPHET BEEL’S BOOK OF POEMS: “BRUTE”
CHAPTER 7
“The shells cracked patterns, creases of thirsty soil. Lamps and instruments to probe. I have answered their questions numerous times yet they persist. Who? What? When? Recite. Is it my duty? They seem to love paper. Minute details to rule. Checkboxes can alter a person’s life. A little X marks a scar. My claims brand me as insane. Their scope of vision, their understanding…so limited. There is only one dimension and it is called: power.”EXCERPT FROM: ACCOUNTS OF THE PROPHETS – “NON-BELIEF” PROPHET BEEL
“A miracle! A shine so bright most choose to keep in shadows, stuffed under rags, stored to forget. I have a framed image placed over my pyre. I ignite luminaries in honor, for to love is to be. My hero. Rescuer of my left arm, my daughters are yours.
I, as a socialite, indulge in words daily and as heiress, choose the word patron. My family’s tradition to uphold for it is the purest form. The way to grow. Bread and water to share, the very eyes puffed from shedding. Sleepless in elation.
Forgive, my readers. Today’s column is a manifestation, a naked declaration, an ode. I stay, you will feel my words, and brief, if but for a moment, brace your hand, raise your palm and read the future’s invisible words for they are scribbled on it.”
THE TITICACA DAILY – FLOR VILS (“People and Places” Column)