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Fred seemed offended. Only $25,000 for his life? He was sure it was worth more than a million.... I guess shallow people would do anything for a quick buck... he decided to hunker down. There is only more to come. Fuck the haters. You don't have the vision so you do not see. The storm has only begun. Bring your best. You'll need it. Fred's friends were beyond their imagination. You cant see quantum, let alone quantify. He was last seen praying to the lord for forgiveness for what was about to transpire.
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Fred was bouncing of the walls. So much so he couldn't even write the thesis out yet. Too much was bubbling to the surface. Quite literally. The little sparkles coming off of things held data. The more he focused on the sparkles the more he realised that he could manipulate them. Not only this, the little energy packets were responsive to his will. With multiple attempts, he tried willing the light packets closer to his eyes so he might see them in detail. What he discovered was far more than he bargained for. After three experiences of the same type, he concluded it was not his eyes playing tricks on him. The light held a numerical code in it! Just like that movie the matrix, except instead of green codes scrolling by, it was a red/burgundy code on a semi-transparent white glass or crystal.

It wasn't long after that before he was visited in his hotel room by visitors unannounced. But there was much more to that story and Fred still didn't have the time. He had spent all his time over the past weeks gather his memories, that and cracking a secret code that was ultra-secret and unbelieveable. With no former training, nor so much as a clue given to him, Fred remembered being motivated to follow his intuition. Nine years later... it payed off. He found what he was looking for, before THEY found him.

In the initial moments he was sure that his "proof" was all he needed to reopen the history books and rewrite this lost and glorious history. That was until he was working on cracking the hexagonal matrix of Metatron's cube, when suddenly he felt eyes on the back of his head... when he turned around to face the eyes of his uninvited guest, his heart slumped and his breath fell short... either he was about to be murdered, or things were just starting to get really, REALLY interesting...

The last known uploads from Fred Mudi's computer have been attached below. There was a note on his hotel room desk that read: (Images not complete... there is new data to intake) This is the start of a very epic time and space. Our heritage once buried and forgotten, has been given a new emissary of steely nerves, skilled hands and a heart of hope filled with zeal of a better tomorrow for us all. Excuse me now, my other worldly guest has beckoned me for council and studies.

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
I dont have time to explain. Multiple successful missions. The process is repeatable (for now). Evidence is in hand, I just need a day or two to process some of the data. It's no longer a theory. Houston, we have CONTACT!!!

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
As Fred slept, curled tight in the back of his orange Pinto, his new Tablet chimed with a message. Fred continued snoring in a deep, unconscious sleep.

From: unknown_dude:

"Dear Mudi,

The Armada is in position. Be sure to be present and aware. Guard your eyes and open your heart. Data transfer imminent."

Pen Devils

Aug. 19th, 2017 03:10 pm
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Wordsmiths and poets sit with pen devils
making lies up for the people, keeping it on the level
secrets in the lodge keep the truth within the bevel
no time for jelly spines, turning tail or turning yellow.
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
As Fred drove along he became more and more irate at the media debacle he was listening to on the radio. Talk about beating a dead horse! He wish he had some way to share with the masses a hard dose of logic. If he had a chance to grab some air time he would make the media outlets play three or four clips back to back. Sadly even then, he knew people would still spin it all out of control... He pulled the clips up for himself for review and a laugh. If you cant laugh at yourself or life, Fred figured you needed to seriously pull your head out of your ass and take a serious chill pill:

1.) Dave Chappelle https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kNSwuSQS8a8

2.) George Carlin https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PdtHZ_6oz9Q

3.) Richard Pryor https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AltWj4iAmno

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character - Martin Luther King, Jr.
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Fred came screeching into Angela's garage. With a slam of the brakes he placed the vehicle in park and got out, slamming the car door shut behind him. Letting himself into the house, Fred quickly found his package on the table. He took a long, hard look at it before he tore into the box. Inside the white cardboard box he found the black Alienware tablet carefully packed away in bubble wrap. He thought of unwrapping the package but then thought better of it. Instead he grabbed the entire box and stormed back into the garage. He opened the door to his orange Pinto and placed the box in the passenger seat. He stuffed his keys into the ignition, strapped his belt and closed the car door. With no regard for Angela's concrete flooring, Fred shifted the gears into reverse and slammed the pedal to the floorboard. A screech of tires and billowing smoke manifested as his vehicle tore across the garage floor, leaving two smoking skid marks on the garage floor. The Pinto was fully enveloped in tire smoke when Fred whipped the wheel, causing the ass-end of his Pinto to slide wildly sideways. For a moment Fred felt nearly weightless as the vehicle pivoted over the rear axle. He let a rather sinister laugh escape his lips and then grinned. For some reason he thought of the Chesire Cat when stomping down on the accelerator. The engine roared and gravel sprayed across the yard. A huge cloud of dust rose into the sky. He swirled the wheel left, then turned it right, and then brought it back to the middle as he desperately tried to keep his car centered. Upon leveling out, Fred reached to the dash and turned the knob on the radio.


Fred drove for for nearly an hour before pulling into a parking lot of a small park. He read the big red letters on the sign as he passed:

"Skimmer Park"
"Fire Danger: High"

He flew past the sign towards the shade of a couple of cedar trees. As he approached, he yank'd the lever of the emergency brake sending the Pinto into a controlled slide. He chuckled to himself as he skid to a complete stop. Fred turned the key and the engine sputtered a moment before dying. Fred's body felt like it was still vibrating while he lit himself a cigarette. He took a deep, long drag then began the process of unpacking the Alienware from its packaging. Placing the tablet on his lap, he took another pull from his smoke. Just then, Fred's phone beeped. He took the phone from the dashboard and swiped it open.

To: Fred Mudi

From: unknown_dude

"Glad you could make it. Go ahead and power up the device. When the text box appears, type in":

"Revolt and War in the Pantheon: A Lot Of Who, A Little Why, Some What, And A Hint Of When"

Fred did as instructed and finished by punching the enter key. The screen went black and two green circles appeared. Just as a look of confusion formed across his face, his phone beeped once more.

To: Fred Mudi

From: unknown_dude

"Good, now put your face close to the screen while aligning the green circles over your eyes."

Fred followed the instructions. Just as the circles crossed his pupils, the tablet unlocked revealing a background image of the puppets from the movie "Team America". The whole screen suddenly dimmed and another text box appeared. Fred rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Dropping his head, Fred let out a sigh and quietly waited. His phone beeped shortly thereafter.

To: Fred Mudi

From: unknown_dude

Ok, now press "Ctrl+J"

Fred did as he was told and the screen turned a fluorescent orange. Another text box appeared and his phone beeped yet again. Swiping the screen, he opened the messaging app.

To: Fred Mudi

From: unknown_dude

Now type in the following and hit enter: "01110011 In Cold Blood"

Fred groaned and proceeded to peck the sequence in. The screen faded to black before rebooting. Two minutes later, the image of Team America reappeared on screen; one by one, a plethora of icons loaded themselves onto the desktop.

Another beep and swipe.

To: Fred Mudi

From: unknown_dude

"Ok be careful here. Any misstep will lock us out from here. On the desktop there should be a black, red and white icon in the shape of a Chinese dragon. Click it open."

Fred double-clicked the icon and the tablet proceeded to boot up a small C++ Python application window. Fred stared blankly at the app. His eyes were drawn to the blinking green cursor on the black screen. His phone beeped.

To: Fred Mudi

From: unknown_dude

"Ok, now we have some fun. The Conglomerate will rue the day they crossed you Mudi. Dont touch anything until I say. I'm going to remotely take it from here."

Fred watched as the mouse pointer suddenly began to move on its own accord. The pointer moved over the Python App and Fred was stunned at how fast text began appearing on screen.

----- 041918: Packet Sniffer Initiated. Cray7, BPF Filter Rerouting to Port 88. Count Parameter Specification: 042018: CPython, IronPython, Juche, Jython (101), MicroPython, Numba, PyPy, Stackless Python, Taedong (666)

Cython, RPython, 항문 누출 7.02, 高科技講者 3.4

Influenced by
A51, ABC, ALGOL 68, AUnderground, C, C++, D, D++, Dylan, Haskell, Icon, Java Twelve, Lisp, Modula-3, Perl

Influenced by
Blowout 1.1, Bolo (4), Boo, Cern 2.2, Cobra, CoffeeScript, D, Dirty Dawg+, F#, Falcon, Genie, Go, Groovy, Haji2, JavaScript, Julia, Lil' Kim Ill, Nim, Overshot (3), Pizza+, Plough2, Ruby, Quant 77, Swift, Wachadoo 2.0, Xenophobia 1.16, ZetaRet001

LHS = sqrt(b2 * (b + 1) - (b + 1))
= sqrt((b + 1) * (b2 - 1))
= sqrt((b + 1) * (b + 1) * (b - 1))
= (b + 1) * sqrt(b - 1)
= b * sqrt(b - 1) + sqrt(b - 1)
= sqrt(b3 - b2) + sqrt(b - 1)

VX Heaven WW3.1

Execute in 2.58, ELF Freq 0.04, Delay URFUCT 5/5, Mandela Offset, F-Bombx3, KKK Killer 4.0, Nazi Killer 7.2, omni/end/reboot

with love: unknown_dude

The tablet's screen flickered red, white and black repeatedly for approximately 5 seconds before going blank. A couple of seconds later, the tablet shut down and then rebooted. When the desktop image of Team America had been loaded, a text box opened and the other words came in quick:

"Alright Mudi. It's all yours. I'll catch up with you soon. Dont forget your sunglasses, it might get bright out there tonight."


"It's cool, nevermind."
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Weak sauce. Good people, sloppy game. Braggarts spoil the whole barrel of apples.

Pit Stop

Aug. 10th, 2017 03:14 pm
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Twenty minutes out of Tahoe, Fredrick Mudi noticed the black Escalade tailing him. There was no need for him to panic. He'd simply reroute and drag his tail down a frivolous detour then attempt to confront the driver. Fred didn't really understand why he was being followed. He knew his phone was on and transmitting, so why waste the manpower, time and gas? He guessed he had become high priority asset now. Somehow, he knew he'd always been.
Although losing his tail in the concrete jungle of Reno was a bit of a thrill, the novelty soon wore off when Fred jumped out his vehicle at a red light and rushed towards the driver, who in a fit of surprised confusion, sped off over a curb as Fred approached. Fred smiled, with no discernable marks or plates, he couldn't tell if it was the military, The Conglomerate or some other shady organization following him. Regardless of the obvious dangers, in the long run, it didn't really matter to him. All that mattered to him was getting back to Angela and that damn tablet. There had to be answers in there - there had to.

Driving at night was always Fred's prefered way to travel. Usually after 11 p.m. the roads became free of any real traffic. By two in the morning certain points seemed as if the freeway had been built only for him. He enjoyed the smooth sailing and the room to breath. It was on one of these huge, lonely stretches of road around 3:33 a.m. that things had been solidifying themselves into something of a perspective for him. Fred and his mind seemed to be mending some pieces of his multi-puzzle together. Since his accident, he had been bombarded by so much new and foreign information he had little time to think about the timeline of his situation. With the help of his friends Angela and Zakari, Fred had established several of his memories as "real", unfortunately much was still missing from his recollection. He was particularly reminded of this as he traveled through the Sierra's majestic sequoias of southern Oregon. It was the the smell of wet dirt and pine needles that had envelpoed his nose. The smell triggered a key memory as the scent marinated in his nose's receptors and he suddenly found himself mulling over another space and time.

Transition into a place of desperation. Death, Terror, Abuse, Drugs, Prostitution, and Money. Lots of money. High gambits and frivolous stakes. A force at work inexplicable. Fred's head reeled. There was high technology, unidentified flying objects, injections and acronyms. Flashes of being strapped to a table and masked doctors donned in scrubs surrounding him. Pastel green walls contrasting as negative space. Scalpels and fear. Fear of being totally helpless. Subdued. Lashed to the gurney. And blue light. Why was the light always blue when they showed?

A sudden vibration snapped Fred from his thoughts. He pulled his phone from his pocket swiping the screen open.

To: Fred Mudi

From unknown_dude

"You're late. What the hell are you doing?"

Fred pulled his vehicle over and began to angrily type.

"Who the fuck is this? And what makes you think anyone even cares about my time frame? Who the hell do you work for and what do you want with me?"

A moment later the reply came:

"I'm trying to make sure you don't compromise yourself. Who I represent is a friend of a friend. I know you are confused and angry but you have to trust me. There is a lot going on that cannot be discussed over the wire. Secure the package a.s.a.p. you have a lot of work in front of you. Despite your discontent, you are more important that you realize Mudi"

Fred mashed in a response:

"You - whoever you are, are confused if you think I'll trust a stranger without a face or name. Fuck off"

unknown_dude: "Mudi, don't be stupid. You have been selected for a reason. Get the tablet if you want answers... we all want answers. What is happening is beyond anyone's full comprehension at the moment but you are the key to this. If you don't get yourself squared away and get this done, the consequences will reverberate through time. You want your memories back? Then get your shit together. Then I can debrief you fully once the data has been tabulated. Besides, don't you want to know your real name?"

Fred Mudi: "I do not appreciate your antics nor do I like playing games."

unknown_dude: "Again, I understand and empathize with your situation. This operation is above top secret and even through my encryptions, this channel is not safe to truly communicate on. Your answers are coming. Your priority is that tablet and you wont be able to open it without my help. I have calculated your E.T.A. and have arranged for Angela to be away from the house upon your arrival. This way you will have no distractions or confrontations on this job. Stop fucking around and get to work!"

Fred Mudi: "You fucking spooks are impossible. I'll be there when I get there and you better have some answers for me."

unknown_dude: "Patience Mudi. All things will be revealed in time. You know what you have to do."
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
To: Fred Mudi

From unknown_dude

May 15, 2017 18:06

You should study this outta Silicon Valley:


Also thought you'd like these:

Checkmait The Gods https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4Z04nS_D_I

King Piece In The Chess Game by Slick Rick

Published on Oct 14, 2012
"The Art of Storytelling" Album.

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
To: Fred Mudi

From: unknown_dude

Did you see this posted on April 15th?

btw... The tablet was absconded from a woman in Arizona by the Air Force's military police. Aiguo Sīkōng & The Collective obtained an exact reproduction/copy of the device. The only problem is your device will always be on. Even when the battery is "dead". So you might want to watch out for that.

Btw they can't unlock its encryption without your thumbs or eyes, so theres that too.

Also don't think about the thousands of secret scientists analyzing every move you make... that'll just make you nervous.

Safe travels


I'll send the cipher codes when the Iris scan is complete.

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Looking to his phone Fred shot up out of his hotel bed. It was 10:45 a.m. and the slamming of doors and muffled conversations from the hallway reminded Fred that housekeeping was due to hassle him out of the room. With a little more than a glance out his high-rise window at the streaming sun over the beautiful Lake Tahoe, Fred brushed his teeth, shaved and threw all his belongings back into his pack before heading to the elevator. As his finger pressed the Lobby button his phone chirped. Looking to the screen he saw it was another message from Angela. This time he actually opened it immediately. He read the message while he weaved his was through the hotel reception and lounge, making his way to the parking garage.

10:51 a.m.

From: Angela Frey

To: Fredrick Mudi

Hey there Fritz, I know I came off like a bitch last night but let's be fair, you've been a real dick by leaving me to worry like that. So with that stated, I'm done griping.

I wanted to send you something that might help you with your "quest". About a year ago you met an author on a train who signed and gave his book to you. You said he was part of that real story about "The men who stare at goats", you said he was a super soldier and helped the Marines/Army train in super-secret psychological operations and warfare. Well, that book has been in my bathroom for ages and I forgot all about it till this morning. On a whim I picked it up and started flipping through pages randomly. When the pages stopped, I read the words and couldn't help but think of you and your struggle. It made me rethink my words to you. I'm transcribing it for you now:

10:54 a.m.

From: Angela Frey

To: Fredrick Mudi

Chapter 10: Mana Personality. Written by Dick Miller

"The salamander bathes in the hot center of three fires and then retires into his burrow. When he is killed, he bleeds to death but his blood is a great medicine. It is probable that the three fires represent three distinct initiations by fire for the perfecting of the three components of man. - Mind, Emotions, and Purity. If solutio corresponds with water, coagulatio with earth, and sublimatio with air, calcinatio completes the elemental quartnity being attributed to fire. M.L. vonFranz interprets the salamander as prima materia, roasting in the fiery emotional reactions involved in the process of withdrawing projections.

Fire symbolizes libido, or psychic energy. It may come from sexuality. The three trials-by-fire are an image to express three stages in the transformation of consciousness 1.) autoerotic, 2.) personal-power seeking, and 3.) refined transpersonal consciousness. We can survive the ordeal of fire if we refine our search for our higher Self, rather than remain motivated solely by the ego. For you to be psychically "invulnerable" to the fire, means you have become immune to your former tendency to identify with your emotional reactions or those of others.

There is a basic exercise in psychosynthesis which allows you to systematically disidentify from your body, emotions, mind, and contents of consciousness (Frisk anyone? -Angela). You affirm that you value each of these, then recognize and affirm that you are a center of pure self consciousness, a center of will. This expansion of awareness leads to embracing a new expanded identity. One sacrifice to the fire is the co-dependant tendency to become over-invested in the emotional weather of others. You are no longer caught up in their acting out, caught up by their drama and intense affect.

Ideally this expansion is leading you toward peak experiences, self-actualization and cosmic consciousness. But you inhabit a purgatory of insecurity and disequilibrium as your old world view transmutes into the new. You need freedom to experiment with new modes of awareness and being. The salamander hastens to his burrow after refining. In much the same way, creative lifestyle changes incubate quietly within, then suddenly comes the illumination or creative idea. In between, others may mistake your appropriate introversion for depression (metaphorical dying and bleeding; emotional death... all emotions run out).

Once you synthesize your new viewpoint on reality, you discover a new sense of well-being and contentment. You can expect many rounds of this same process in life's perpetually changing circumstances. You break out of the old world view, go through the birth canal and regenerate in a new dimension of awareness. You have a new self image and many new potentials in life. Each time you go through the cycle you gain awareness and maturity. "

- Lots more in the book. Just wanted to motivate you Fred. Drive safe and stay determined! See you soon! xxx ooo - Angie.

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
While he was asleep, Fred Mudi's phone received a text from a blocked number named "unknown_dude" :

"Meet Corliss Archer, began life as a radio program devoted to the misadventures of a typical, All-American teenage girl not unlike Betty Cooper or Patsy Walker. Unlike the other two, however, Corliss has the unique distinction of being labeled a menace by none other than Dr. Frederic Wertham himself.

Corliss’ inclusion in the good doctor’s infamous Seduction Of The Innocent didn’t stem from the character’s involvement in radio, movies and televison, but rather a short-lived comic-book published in 1948 by Fox Feature Syndicate that Wertham cited as an example of a “headlight comic.”

Based upon the covers that adorned the book’s second and third issues, I can’t imagine where in the world Wertham got that idea …

Like many of the comics published by Victor Fox in the late 1940s, the seemingly wholesome adventures of Corliss Archer snuck in as many swimsuit or bra-and-panty shots as the story would allow. Despite the characters’ popularity in other media – a fact trumpeted on the comic’s very cover, by the way – Fox knew what his audience wanted.

In a weird coincidence, the issues that so offended Wertham were mostly written and drawn by Al Feldstein, who would later cause even greater consternation among “right-thinking people” as an editor, writer and artist for William M. Gaines’ legendary EC Comics line.

The Golden Age of Comics truly existed in a small, and very strange, world.

“The Homework Hoax” originally appeared in Meet Corliss Archer #2 (Fox Feature Syndicate, May 1948). The story is signed by “EKR,” but the Grand Comics Database guesses that Feldstein provided the script.

Page: 1-7 http://www.flickr.com/photos/m_burkhardt/7601781812/
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Fred had been through so many songs, miles, files and hotels that he had become exhausted. The Sheeba Inn he chose for the night had a rather professional style and grace to it and the view from the 19th floor was spectacular. His view was over the vast and mysterious Lake Tahoe. Even though the wear and tear on the casinos amenities had shown their age, Fred actually felt like a high roller for once. It was just too bad that all he wanted to do upon his arrival was sleep. He pulled back the covers and flopped onto the bed face first. Using only his big toes, he lazily made several attempts at at removing his shoes before succeeding. His body was trying to pull him into himself. His eyes fluttered closed. He was oblivious to the blue light striking his body only moments after falling asleep.

When the phone rang some hours later, there was a frantic woman's voice on the other line. Fred finally realized it was Angela Frey when she spoke something about his pamphlets he'd left at her house.

A: "It's about time! why haven't you replied to my texts or voice mails? You're a real asshole ya know? Are you ok? Where are you? And what the fuck are those pamphlet-paper things? You know all that conspiracy crap is gonna rot your head right? When are you coming back? Are you coming back? Are you fucking some other girl? Your such a dick, I miss you... hello?"

F : Um.. yeah... I mean no...

A: "Yeah" your fucking the girl?

F: No! That would be a real conspiracy dear. And no, I'm not banging anyone.

A: Where are you?

F: South Lake Tahoe.

A: Why?

F: Personal business. I just came from a meeting with an old friend in Ukiah.

A: What's her name?

F: Zakari Taniguchi is his name. He is a veteran friend of mine. I had made a pact to meet him back on the first of March and so I did. I'm working my way up to Portland in a few days. I'm sorry I didn't tell you nor pick up your messages, I've just been working though a lot of pain and mental blocks. Honestly I'm still trying to remember much of our friendship.

A: Friendship? You got to be kidding me! Friendship? Is your brain that glitched up? More like partners, pal. My God... it's worse than I thought.

F: You have no idea.

A: When are you coming back home?

F: I don't have a home. It's just an apartment and a shitty one at that. But I'm thinking a few more days out here before I hit the road. What have you been up to the last few weeks? Anything exciting?

A: I'm not one for small talk Fred. You need to bring your ass up here because you got lots of explaining to do! A package came to my door via FedEx addressed for you. I let it sit for a few days but you've have never gotten mail here and have been gone so long that curiosity won and I opened it. Inside was a computer tablet and a hand written note obviously written by a woman's hand. It's some cryptic message. Just a page of nonsense letters with a few recognizable words like "enclave", "psionic", "natives", "Nor-Cal" and "Lake Tahoe". So who is she Fred?

F: I don't know what your talking about. A tablet you say? What's the return address?

A: It says Aiguo Sīkōng. Ramstein Germany, NATO Allied Air Command.

F: ... No shit?

A: No shit. You need to get back here a.s.a.p.

F: Ok, ok. I'll head out tomorrow. I gotta sleep it out tonight.

A: And Fred?

F: Yeah?

A: Don't do that shit again.


Fred rolled his eyes. Another computer? He hadn't even started scratching the surface of the hard drive Gooch gave him. And NATO headquarters? What was that kid Aiguo up to? He just saw him a few days ago back in the California Starbucks, now the kid was in Germany? What the hell? Fred wanted to sort it all out but was too tired to think. As he drifted slowly back to sleep his last thoughts were of Angela Frey and her disgruntled tone. Now, not only was his pain mental, it was becoming surprisingly emotional. The feeling of heat pressed his cold heart. He tried to imagine the ocean and its waves before he finally gave in to sleeps sweet surrender. His dreams were of little gray men.

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Fred opened a file called "Boo"

"Look Ma! No Math!"

Published on Apr 14, 2017
Aug Tellez has been involved in underground secret operations such as human cloning, genetic engineering experiments, trauma-based mind control, and time shifting, From a young age, he was used for many of these secret government operations.

In this video I talk with Aug about "Inner Earth", heart energy, the Demiurgic soul trap system, time operations, the aurora borealis, and more.

Aug's YouTube Channel:

Aug's Wordpress Blog:

hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)
Fred's head was swimming and the air seemed oddly thick. His Pinto was catching the rays of the sun, heating up the dash. The heat radiated on his face. He adjusted the laptop screen, pushing it back away from the suns glare. If it had not been for the sunshine, the shadows of Fred's mind would have been consuming him. He couldn't understand these blocks in his mind and the missing memories were maddening. He felt he couldn't stitch himself together and was growing impatient with the stagnation. An overwhelming feeling to quit suddenly hit his gut. He felt he didn't want to participate in his own life anymore. Nothing seemed to make sense. Even though seeing his longtime friend Zak had given Fred a bit of clarity, even a touch of hope, all the Monks wise words of wit seemed to only stir the desperation in his soul. He glared at the screen.

And he glared some more.

Fred huffed out a sigh. There was no use in fighting it. His life was in that black box and if he ever wanted to find out who he was, or who he should be, he had to pull himself together. He scrolled a few pages further down. His gut churned some more. Suddenly he couldn't concentrate and didn't feel like reading. He didn't feel anything really, other than the gaping abyss in his soul. He thought maybe some music might help him relax so he scrolled back and clicked a folder called "Office Tunes" he selected the first track:

Twenty one pilots:

I ponder of something great
My lungs will fill and then deflate
They fill with fire
Exhale desire
I know it's dire
My time today

I have these thoughts
So often I ought
To replace that slot
With what I once bought
'Cause somebody stole
My car radio
And now I just sit in silence

Sometimes quiet is violent
I find it hard to hide it
My pride is no longer inside
It's on my sleeve
My skin will scream
Reminding me of
Who I killed inside my dream
I hate this car that I'm driving
There's no hiding for me
I'm forced to deal with what I feel
There is no distraction to mask what is real
I could pull the steering wheel

I have these thoughts
So often I ought
To replace that slot
With what I once bought
'Cause somebody stole
My car radio
And now I just sit in silence

I ponder of something terrifying
'Cause this time there's no sound to hide behind
I find over the course of our human existence
One thing consists of consistence
And it's that we're all battling fear
Oh dear, I don't know if we know why we're here
Oh my,
Too deep
Please stop thinking
I liked it better when my car had sound

There are things we can do
But from the things that work there are only two
And from the two that we choose to do
Peace will win
And fear will lose
There's faith and there's sleep
We need to pick one please because
Faith is to be awake
And to be awake is for us to think
And for us to think is to be alive
And I will try with every rhyme
To come across like I am dying
To let you know you need to try to think

I have these thoughts
So often I ought
To replace that slot
With what I once bought
'Cause somebody stole
My car radio
And now I just sit in silence

And now I just sit in silence [x3]
And now I just sit

I ponder of something great
My lungs will fill and then deflate
They fill with fire
Exhale desire
I know it's dire
My time today

I have these thoughts
So often I ought
To replace that slot
With what I once bought
'Cause somebody stole
My car radio
And now I just sit in silence
hextraterrestrial: Hextraterrestrial (Default)

[ A huge, bright orange, plasma ball suddenly appears in the sky. For all intent and purposes it looks as if it is a second sun. It slowly descends towards the earth, giving any observer a momentary sensation of rising. Others may experience this same visual with the opposite effect of momentarily falling. Either sensation is felt for a moment only, as the orange ball accelerates with blinding speed towards a small group of spectators. The orange light moved so quick and stopped so fast that some witnesses are too shocked and awed to do anything but stare, a few throw up their hands to protect their faces, a couple of others trying ducking into the dirt. Just as fast as it stopped, the orange plasma field drops, revealing a rather sporty and badass spaceship underneath! Later, most people will describe the huge craft as being totally silent. Others, with more acute senses, will say there was a very slight humming sound emanating from the craft, just barley audible. Part of the dumbfounded group begins to remember that they even have a body standing on two feet, remembering that they can walk, some muttering in a whispered astonishment, as clanking of metal is heard and a small hatch opens on the underside of the craft. A blue beam of light suddenly shoots out the hatch and to the ground directly beneath it before a small black object, looking like a book, gradually rides the beam down until it rests softly on a patch of yellow flowers. Still a bit overwhelmed, the group watches as the blue light turns off, the hatch closes with a clank, a loud electric cracking sound is heard and the craft rises at an angular momentum before pausing a few hundred feet up. The craft, keeping level, then begins to somewhat sway to and fro as without warning, something like fifteen or twenty hatches, flaps, panels, vents and small appendages extend and retract multiple times, dramatically varying the ships original profile. Variously placed lights and light panels brightly flash on and off, displaying every color of the spectrum. A few of the lights glowed with some type of unearthly neon light. Just as fast as it started all lights turn off and the multitude of flaps, panels and such, close simultaneously. The craft abruptly stops bobbing and swaying, then remains perfectly still. An awestruck bystander braves a step forward. At light speed, a burst of white flashes, the crowd all flinch at the sudden barrage of luminance, followed by an electric swoosh as the whole craft becomes enveloped once more in the liquid like, orange plasma. The orange ball rises at a steep angle so swiftly, the whole movement looked like a orange streak. Stopping on a dime, the craft pauses, then just as swift, it blurs into an orange diagonal dash, moving up and out in the opposite direction. Again leaving a tracer of orange light. With a final pause, the craft zipped up and out of sight before anyone could blink. Snapping out of shock, a woman runs over to where the beam of blue light had landed. She bends down picking up what turns out to be nothing more fascinating than a computer tablet. An Alienware tablet at that! Without thinking anything of it, the woman swipes the screen (unbeknownst to anyone, the swipe of the screen activates a mysterious app which invisibly starts executing 8,492 individual tasks; one of which was posting this writ @ dreamwidth to: Dorochet ). There was no password, so the screen booted up quickly displaying a text document. All the witnesses gather around the woman, all trying to ogle the tablet curiously. She gladly began reading the document aloud for the others to hear as well.]

Deer in the headlights human:

Salutations. In your tongue my name is Hex. I come from beyond the fishbowl. Your dimension and Earth are of extreme interest to my race and I. Unfortunately for many of you, if not most of you here, this is not your original timeline. Unfortunate because, not even our advanced alien sciences know how access your original dimension and time. In the Original Earth year of 2012, your priests of ritualistic occult sciences successfully summoned an antimatter deity. This being manifested in a dodecahedron prison of gold, platinum, silver and zirconium. The dodecahedron prison was surrounded by a high frequency field of electromagnetism in a bubble of plasma.
Under the ringed temple of Apollo in Switzerland, your scientists summoned an antimatter deity.

I have been in study and had been preoccupied with a promise I made to a friend. To a Legend still living. You know what friends are right? Are you sure? I have read much about them and have even seen them depicted in the tri-stereo-vision dramas (like your mundane monitors/tv). In our worlds histories and most glorious tomes, a friend is more important than any pixels on a screen. AI's attempts at cannon crafting and reality hacking was put on hold. Fine by me... others seem to be freaking out there isn't a hundred pages already. Do you know why there isn't a hundred pages yet? Because I was waylaid by a friend . I stayed with that friend for almost 4 months straight. In a tiny box of an apartment. I'd barley made it home for longer than a few hours per week.

Maybe you've seen me around the spaceport docks once or twice? Last I was there, I was attempting to deprogram, backengineer, then reprogram a first edition, twentieth century bot named Lady Rocket. I recovered it from an overgrown field of yellow daffodils amongst the dense thistle bushes. I didn’t know much about robots or mechs and I knew even less about human robotics or engineering. Lady Rocket was a true classic of the automaton industry. Although technically, by now, it was an antique. I began acquiring parts and accessories wherever I found them and gladly worked on her repairs. She probably belonged in a robotics museum but within just a few days I had seen a marked improvement in her overall appearance and stability, which oddly inspired me and made me feel good. Feeling good was something I had not felt in a very long time and all those foreign feelings stirred something inside me. It could not have been much more than two weeks before I fell gracefully in love with my Lady Rocket automation. People thought it was a bit odd I was spending so much time with a glitchy, old bot but it didn't bother me much at all. I loved the way she looked all stoic from particular angels. From other vantages, she looked so playful, cute and innocent. The bot had a few dented and crimped titanium panels, and few more scratches but with a little body wax, she shined up better than expected. Her scratches and dents blending with the wax making them far less noticeable. I loved its subtle quirks and bugs that I had not worked out yet. Things were looking up for Lady Rocket and I. She was in far better condition than when I had first found her and I was feeling a new sense of purpose. Within a few weeks, I was wanting to take it with me everywhere. It was nice to see how my code was slowly evolving as it integrated with the bots system. Not like some head over heels love, or some freaky fetish thing. It was more like puppy-love, you know? I couldn't help it, that bot was so dang adorable. Although an older edition, and a bit dusty, its computer programing was, and still is being used as the industry standard. Of course it needed some TLC and oil. I put my heart and soul into the fabrications. It was rather beat-up but I didn't care. It was a first edition and it was super sweet. I was doing all I could to patch and repair the various bits. I spent a lot of time, about 4 months I think, just trying to figure out where all the wires routed to the hardware. The central processing unit was an epic chore just to chart diagram it. Please don’t even mention the handmade Syrian circuitry system! . By month three, I had repaired a lot of the superficial damage just rewiring and had slightly upgraded its memory capacity. It was very unfortunate that she was hacked and then stolen from the ship.

The main thing I've been trying to understand are all the characters, muns and players of this multi-timeline, AU, cannon. I've been quietly getting to "know" as many peoples attitudes, experience, skill levels and style here. One of the first things I needed to do was build a team. Which, admittedly was far too belated (for reasons I care not to disclose here).

Oh how I do love it when sapiens put their ego before their wisdom. Do you know what being part of a team really means? Do you understand what regulations entail? Dose the term "Chain of Command" resonate with you? Did you happen to notice that the scales have shifted? What you ask for in Wonderland, you just might get.

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After a short distance away from the temple, Fredrick Mudi had to take pause. He needed to park and plan some logistics on his situation. He needed some mental reinforcement. Almost everything that Gooch had spoke to him had hit home; even if Fred didn't want to admit it. His gut was turning in upon itself and his heart ached behind his sternum. He had to stop moving, had to stop driving, stop thinking, stop doing - anything. He needed to just be still. Like Gooch had said, Fred was over-analytical and was now realizing how true it was. He was going bat-shit crazy, in circles trying to fill in the gaps in his memory.

It was mid afternoon, Fred had pulled over and was parked behind a small shopping center by some dumpsters. He was sitting in an orange, 1983 Pinto and was smoking another cigarette, he was taking stock of his life. More in particular, he was trying to sort out this year known as 2017. He turned the radio down while trying to think. A moment later he just shut the radio completely off. Even the soothing sounds of classic rock where now agitating to him. He sighed a heavy sigh and felt the weight on his shoulders momentarily relax. After exhaling, the world closed back in on him, forcing his shoulders and eyes down.

The spiderbot "Bootsy" was still crawling Fred's prearranged list of servers and collecting a file on the cloud. He didn't bother opening any of them. He just slipped the phone back into his pocket. "First things first" he said to himself. He hopped out the pinto and opened the back hatch. Rifling under some dirty clothes, a blanket and a tire iron, he found his laptop, closed the hatch and returned to the drivers seat. He opened the glove box and retrieved the external hard drive that Taniguci had given him and then booted his pc. He flicked his cigarette butt out the window onto the asphalt.

He couldn't get it out of his head. Someone or something had messed with his mind. The only clue he had was nothing more than a hunch and it wasn't very reassuring. Although it did make Fred realise that there had to be a reason for someone to erase (or was it more like 'steal'?) his memories. His second conclusion was that this was no hodgepodge operation. Selective memory erasing? That had to be a highly sophisticated and advanced maneuver. Likely the work of of some military or government operations. Someone like Hydra, or some other corporate front. What did Fred happen to known that was taken from him? Why was his whole life suddenly under a whole new form of self scrutiny? At what point did he stop becoming himself? At what point would "they" (whoever they are) take such actions against him? And why?

Between what Gooch had told him of relaunching their old company "Knight Tech” and the likelihood that the military had put a microchip in his head, Fred’s mind drifted towards all the possible threats to his life. He needed some protection, some reassurance. Ah, the smell of burnt black powder! It was somehow signaled and he could actually smell it for a second. A plethora of images came to him, a double barrel shotgun, a 9mm pistol, a fully mod’d AR-15, outdoor shooting ranges, the old Madrid armory, dismounted Baghdad patrols, and his favorite place to shoot in the mountains. He called that place Area 52.

Fred had to look under his laptop at the password again before pecking it in. He jacked the external hard drive into the computers usb port and waited for recognition. A single folder appeared. The folder was entitled "Do Not Read". Fred laughed a rather sarcastic laugh while clicking it. The widow burst open with a full screen of folders. He scrolled down a bit unveiling pages and pages of folders. He randomly opened a folder and selected a text document:

Initiates and the profane.

A.A. Sigillvm Sanctvm Fraternitatis

“Now ye shall know that the chosen priest & apostle of infinite space is the prince-priest the Beast; and in his woman called the Scarlet Woman is all power given. They shall gather children into their fold: they shall bring the glory of the stars into the hearts of men.” - AL 1:15

Scarlet Women

Babylon, Mother of Abominations


Oak King

Holly Tree

Dark Pan
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“A man is not called wise because he talks and talks again; but if he is peaceful, loving and fearless then he is in truth called wise.” - Buddha

Zakari Taniguci's graduation from the Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas turned out to be a rather casual affair. After a congratulatory speech and awarding honors to the most outstanding of the students, Fred was anxious to get moving. He didn’t want to be disrespectful to Gooch or his colleagues. It was just that there was a lot was on his mind and he strongly felt the urge to be doing something far more productive. All the same, he pushed his impatience as far back as he could and reminded himself that he was actually glad to be visiting Gooch. Fred had made sure to update his phones contacts while they had cake at brunch, lightly conversing with two other monks drinking tea at the table. Zakari was speaking to the other two monks. Anxiously Fred stood and payed his respects and sayed his goodbyes to Gooch before making a quick departure from the celebration. He had felt uncomfortable among the gaggle of Monks and strangers, so he expressed his intent to leave to the three Monks. Fred really didn’t even know how to tell Gooch goodbye. His mind was so far out in space that trying to revert into small, petty talk only suggested more friction and angst on the gears of his headspace.

“A proper goodbye is in order,” he looked up to Gooch’s face. “ and I hardly have the words to express my gratitude and respect for you…” he wanted to call the Monk by his old Army nickname “Red”, instead he held his tongue back, letting the last word ring out into a fade. He had just realized he didn’t want Gooch to even think about it in that moment, no need to bring his thoughts there, at least not today of all days.

“Master Sergeant Taniguchi,” Fred’s heels clicking together as he straightened himself, locking his knees. His left arm tucked into position and with his right he snapped a sharp looking salute. “having been appointed a Tibetan Monk of the Buddhists faith, do you solemnly swear that you will be a total badass, to support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic, that you will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that you take this obligation freely, without any mental reservations or purpose of evasion; and that you will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office upon which you are about to enter; so help you… Buddha”? The veteran Captain snapped a very professional salute and nodded towards Gooch before relaxing his stance, smiling.

Those words seemed to do something nostalgic in Gooch’s eyes. They filled with pride and light. Was that a twinkle forming in his eyes? The Monk instinctively let loose a wide grin as he took a few steps closer to Fred. Zak raised his right hand placing it on Fred’s shoulder.

“That was awesome Cap. I thought you said your memory was shot? You remembered the whole Oath of Commissioned Officers! I must hand it to you. I would have totally screwed that up.” The Monk said while removing his hand. “I guess we are both going senile in our old age! I probably forgot a lot of Army jargon by now. I have not thought about it for so long. I must have had to dump any rusty memories to make room for here.”

Abruptly Fred’s expression turned cold “As long as you don’t forget Bangkok"

The Monk’s head tilted a bit, looking rather quizzical. “Bangkok”?

As quick and as sneakily as feasible, Fred used a backhand to lightly slap Taniguci in the balls. Although Taniguci saw it coming and diligently tried to avoid the strike, but the Captain had connected. The sting of searing pain was immediate and the Monk doubled over, letting out a low and lengthy lament.

“Son of a…” winced Gooch as his his inner voice pushed up through the aching pain:

'Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.' -Buddha

What seemed to be a hundred different memories flashed before his mind’s eye.
The Monk actually started chuckling under his breath between the pulsing waves of pain. Fred hadn’t hit too hard. But we are talking about testies here. All it took was a slight tap to temporarily disable even the biggest of men. Even so, it wasn’t as bad as the Monk had made it look. But it still hurt. “Bangkok” was a notoriously mean spirited and dangerously fun game.

“Looks like your memory is going too” Laughed Fred.

Gooch couldn't help but reminisce and actually smiled back at Fred. Of course Gooch would smile. He would now have his chance at revenge and he would take it when least expected.


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September 2017

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