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💾 Archived View for cosmic.voyage › Leaps%20And%20Bounds › isurzlikethis.txt captured on 2024-08-31 at 12:36:52.
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So it is. On I mean. & so & on. But not for too long. Here, I will
make you a promise, so as you can come some way towards trustin me
once you see I've kept it. I can keep a promise, a primrose, a man
of words, witch have away with me, unman of miney wordz. & I can
tolerate a compromise, so long as it is a good, fair one. This,
I believe, purrsunnally, is *why*, at least one *why* of the QEC
(what we know beta round ere as Tether). I know most peeps either
don't care, or only care about how, but without why ain't no wise.
The state is, or will be, one of compromise. That's fine, can be -
just don't want no deadlock. Och aye the noo. No way, no way but..
& so & so on. So, I've been told I do go on, but not that I can,
so here is my promise: I will work this week, & this week will be
my work. Week? I hear you sigh: yes, I am a stubborn old fool &
I keep up some rartherr antiqaintit hahabitz. According to one of
my most treasured heirlooms, today would've been Tiwazday. A Tryst
is twinelight, right, but the knot we tied, here, be phivephauld.
Witch is to say I'll go on ununtil Freyazday, then hohohold me
P E A C E . . . I done one too on mundane (sorry for the odd gl*
!ch) so here is the fire of the F R E E Z z z > > >

&) Like a crystal star I said, not forgetting we're all plain txt
What I mean is, well, complex. But literally the Bounds are like
A Geode, I call it, like a Bucky Ball, kind of thing, you know?
Biodome sort of style. Honeycombed green house, 'cept transparent
and the Leap is more like the House, the Bounds like a Garden.
Ixcept. Back on Earth, the relationship between the wild and the

	ahem* "cultyvayted" was unsame. Witch is to say: here Thee Wyldz

is !inside! the garden. Really hard to explain if you have nae
been this way. The wild *is* the way, you know? That, I reckon,
is what Tether is tryin to show us. That's part of why we broke
   offf, Thiir & Theez. We were kind of like a Cosmic Campsite,
right? But I got fed up with just being a fuckfest for horrible
people. In the old daze Our Party wuz great. Lots of Bumpkins
who really knew their stuff, checking out everybody's goods
& blending things together from the ground up. Love was love.
Then came "the fash". Certain stuff became 'new' and the rest
was apparently Old School. Well, we are fucking old school.
So that's one reason weave hadta cut loose, see?
Sorry if it doesn't make sense yet. I'll tri - keep t

&) I probably sound quite strange to you, bit unsophisticated
may beep? You should know you all, most of all of you, sound
such to me, too. Backwards, kinda. I can hardly believe some
of you are still using cryogenics! Don't make me larf!
Completely retardigraded! Poor little Mother Bear! You wanna
yooze Tether rite, rite? You do real eyes it connects to
The Source?! You can use it to gets yerselves a Source! Then,
well, you'll figure it out. That's Thee Wylds, and man, I'm
dew fur a dip. That's the sort of light our ship runs on, see?
What I called shitmoney before, what the kids call $hitcoin now
I believe? (By the way, some of you sound like yer usine the sh
ip's computer to write with? Don't! Seriously! That's a bad rd
Trust me I've been to the end of it: WRITE TO THE END) If my st
uff sounds kind of crude, packed with sort of shit jokes, then
well done, you are close to the metaphorealisation: we're at
work at the arse end of the Divine. That's a lot Gooder than
a lot of work gets. But let me say this, change tack: shitmoney
Sure it's a kind of UBI, but like the URUBI, if you get me?
Perhaps if I tell you one of our name for Thiir name for it is
H O N E Y . But they pronounce it more humminy harharmoney...
Also, I should say, it's okay to be confused, because that is
literally what this shit is: confusion is truth & it's what
Leaps & Bounds runs on. I am Thiir for Thiir, & Thiir is
Theez for Thiir. You see the way there's lots more Thiir
in that, yet tis all about balance? Well, that's how come
Odd trumps Even, and these are all ways of the way, the way
that wends through the Bounds, as the Bounds, how comes
we can Leap them. Seems a stream sometimes, a hedge at others,
often enough electric string... a useful thing! *Tether*

&) She woke up crying this morn. Says to me, Sorry, I'm making
such ridiculous sounds. They're not, I says, they're real.
It sounds like it's all too much for you. Thanks, she said.
Was too much for her, yesterday, the Source. It *is* too much,
of course, that's sort of the "point". But there's being
Ensorcelled, and then there's being bloody Bewitched, and me,
I can still tell which from which. Even though Source sounds
like Sauce, which is what you become when yer innit. Like a
caterpillar in its cocoon. You understand, then, the violence
of the butterfly. Let me explain one last thing today then:
if we sound kind of funny, out here, that's because we ain't
The Diverse, or whatever you calls it. Ain't no republic, not
really. A kind of common wealth, aye. We has Royalty. Are.
We are Kings and Queens. She's forgotten, or doesn't quite
bee- beleaf? Eave, it. I have not. I am paradox, beyond be
leaf... flowers. Grass. Um. Half and half, sort of:
We took the genome of the human and the genome of the honey
bee, and that's what most all of these kinds of ships is
made from, or phor, or whatever it is and is not. We have
three main classes of "Beeing". (More the birds & the beasts,
than the birds & the bees: Angels & Demons, if you get me?)
There are Birdonx. Lovely feathered wheels and waves.
There be the Unburdoned. (More on them in a min.)
And then there is Bunnages. That's what makes a Bumpkin.
Our word for Queen comes from the bees, which are most like
Birdonx. Our word for King comes from horses, which are
among the Unburdoned. And most of us is Bunnages.
Hares Leap, and Bunnies Bound. Each of us is phivephauld
like so. That's how come I can promise you a working week
strong enough to stick to without, um, sticky stuff.

I better leave it there, today, that's three, you see.
On Day Two. I guess I'll... remind me to ArkHive this,
the morrow.

All the best,
Leaps & Bounds.