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Waterhouse Brain Sciences Institute.
Waterhouse!
Compton
But one of the Miasma’s perversities was that it made otherwise sane people like him—people who had better things they could have been doing—devote energy to arguing with completely random fuckwits, many of whom probably didn’t even believe in their own arguments, some of whom weren’t even humans.
Crazytown was repelled by facts and knowledge, as oil fled from water, but was fascinated by the absence of hard facts, since it provided vacant space in which to construct elaborate edifices of speculation.
“As far as I can make out, I am an emissary of sorts from another plane of existence.”
Odd thing to say
“Oh, don’t pout! It’s not my fault. This plane is made of different stuff, organized in a different way, and so none of my memories transfer over directly.”
“You would know better than I, Julian,” Enoch said, “but the upshot is that the best I can really manage is to try to help sort things out as best I can on this plane. Oh, I’ll have a grande flat white, whole milk please—I like to live dangerously.” Then he looked down at his hands, which were mummified in ice packs. “And a straw.”
Now we’re back in a situation where the people who have the power and the money can get what they want by dictating what the mass of people ought to believe.”
Later they knew too what it was to shit.
“Calling a meeting of the Societas Eruditorum?”
2702
I think it reasonable to assume that I was sent hither on a one-way trip from another plane of existence whose exact nature will forever remain mysterious to us.
!!!
amanuensis,
Amanuensis!
