when me he spies,
away he flies,
for time will stay for no man.
in vain
with cries,
I rend the skies,
for pity is not common.
Look.
LOOK!

when we met first I promised you a secret to keep in your pocket, diddn't I?
A fine and shiny secret, passed from hand to hand through the years, master to pupil.
Diddn't I tell you what cities are?
Listen, then, for i'll tell it a second time.
here it is as I was told it once, but new-minted with each telling.
Our world is sick, boy. Very sick. A virus got in a long time ago
and we'e got so used to its effects, we've forgotten what it was like before we became ill.
I'm talking about cities, see?
human cultures were originally homeostatic; they existed in a self-sustaining equilibrium, with no notions of time and progress, like we've got.
then the city virus got in. No one's really sure where it came from or who brought it to us, but like all viral organisms, its one directive is to use up all available resources in producing copies of itself.
More and more copies until there's no raw material left and the host body, overwhelmed, can only die.
the cities want us to become good builders. Eventually we'll build rockets and carry the virus to other worlds.
Cities have their own way of talking to you; catch sight of the reflection of a neon sign and spell out a magic word that summons strange dreams.
have you ever noticed the word 'IXAT' glowing in the night? That's one of the holy names.
Or make tape recordings of traffic noise and listen to them at night. You'll hear the voices of the city coming through, telling you things, showing you pictures.
Sometimes they'll show you where they came from.
In waking dreams i've seen cemetery planets circling abandoned stars. Like mausoleums, silent and dead, every building a headstone.
That's what cities do...
But those of us who know the secret learn ways to unlock the power in cities. We make a pact with them and they give us gifts in return.
All of my teachings are done on this level of consciousness. That's why you can't remember where all the time has gone. Open your eyes, go back to sleep, boy. here endeth your lesson.


-Crazy old TOM O'BEDLAM
Down and out in heaven and hell, pt2.
the invisibles, say you want a revolution.