Search Results for 'access'

“These old ezines and blogs are fascinating” remarked Periwinkle, passing the one she had just been reading to Daffodil. “Thank goodness some folks had the foresight to print some of them!”

“I know, imagine if they hadn’t. We’d have no artefacts for the collection. Well, we have all those flat discs, but no way to decipher them. Oh, did I tell you? Bignonia found something even older than the discs!”

“NO!” exclaimed Periwinkle “Do tell!”

“Yes, even older! Funny looking contraption, with two reels and a ribbon. An information storage device, so they say, although they haven’t discovered how to decipher it.”

“I wonder why we’re still not simply accessing that information without, well, without messing around with the physical contraption, you know?”

“Wouldn’t be any point in being here in the first place, if we weren’t going to mess around with physical things, silly” replied Daffodil.

There was no answer to that, so Periwikle didn’t answer. She continued to thumb through the printed pages.

Periwinkle and Daffodil sat together on the patio in the warm spring sunshine, sipping lemonade
and leafing through the papers. Bright white clouds in cartoon shapes romped across the blue sky,
and the birds chattered in the trees,
occasionally landing on the printed pages and cocking their heads sideways to read for a moment, before flying off to tell their friends, which was usually followed by a raucous group cackling.

“Dear Goofenoff” read Daffodil, “This one looks interesting Peri, someone here is asking for advice on a problem.”

“What’s a “problem”, Daffy?” asked Periwinkle. “For that matter, what does the word “advice” mean? Oh, never mind” she said as she noticed Daffodil rolling her eyes, “I’ll look it up in my pre shift dictionary of defunct words.”

“She’s asking the Snoot too, about the same problem. Oh, I think I’ve heard of them! It’s coming back to me, the old Snoot’n‘Goof team, they were quite famous in the beginning of the century, I remember hearing about them before in a Shift History discussion.”

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of them, but then, I’ve never been into history like you, dear. So what is this “problem” all about, then?”

“I’ll read it out to you, it’s way too convoluted to put in a nutshell. Lordy, they sure did complicate matters back then, it’s almost unbeleivable, really, but anyway, here goes:

Dear Goofenoff,

I don’t know what to do! I am confused about which probable version of a blog freind, let’s call him MrZ, I have chosen to align with. The first probable version was ok, nothing to worry about, and then I drew into my awareness the probable versions of MrZ that some of my freinds had chosen to align with….”

“Blimey”, interrupted Periwinkle, who was starting to fidget. “Is it much longer?”

“It’s alot longer, so be patient. Where was I? Oh yes:

“….and while that was very interesting indeed, and led to lots of usefully emotionally heated discussions, I started to align with their probable version, at times, although not consistently, which led to some confusion. So then I had a chat with someone who was more in alignment with my original probable version, although there were aspects of that probable version that were a little in alignment with the other folks probable version, notwithstanding. I suppose I was still in alignment with the other folks probable version when it came to my attention that there was another individual that might be aligning with a probable version, and my question is, in a nutshell, is it any of my business which probable version the new individual on the scene is aligning with?”

“Well, I can tell you the answer to that!” exclaimed Periwinkle.

Daffodil rolled her eyes. “Yes, dear, WE know the answer, but the point is, SHE didn’t know the answer at the time, which is why she asked Goofenoff.”

“If you ask me, she knew the answer all along” Periwinkle intuited. “What did Goofenoff say anyway?”

“He said:

Are you requiring a short or a long answer?”

Daffodil turned the page to continue reading. She frowned, and flicked through a few pages.

“What a shame, some of these pages appear to be missing! Now we’ll never know what Goofenoff said.”

Periwinkle laughed. “Well, never mind that anyway, have you seen the random story quote today? Rather synchronistic I’d say, listen to this bit:

Illi felt much better, and was sitting at the breakfast table, basking in the warm shafts of sunlight filtering in through the window, and listening to the birds singing in the lemon tree outside.”

‘No problem for that’, retorted mac Assar, ‘we bought one of these brand new head-fastener, “they help you keep you head on” the ad says!’ she continued merrily.

Pee hold his breath and his first thoughts about this kind of accessory; some customers associations were pitting against these head-fasteners as they were said to make you loose your head more quickly with age. The Alsa Meyer syndrome was wreaking havoc on the pea-ceful peaple of New Peasland these days and the medical corpse didn’t know how to stop it. But Pee would be there when she’d loose her head!

Silly broke the cone of silence by telling her aunt that her new head-fastener looked like a horse, which made Auntie mac Assar and Dolores laugh heartily, and made Pee blush forcefully.

‘Never say that to a lady’, said her aunt.

There’s something, er, fishy, about this here dead cow, Sanso surmised. He was still a little fuzzy after his peregrinations in the Dense Dimension. Suddenly he slapped his forehead and exclaimed D’Oh! This dead cow is no accident! He shook his head, as if trying to shake the cobwebs loose. The effects of the brocolli hadn’t worn off completely yet. I can’t beleive I chose the Brocolli from the ‘You Fool’ Jar instead of the ‘Thank You’ Jar. I should have realized, Sanso was still shaking his head, what the ramifications would be of choosing discounting instead of appreciation. D’OH! he exclaimed again. Really, I had no idea how far reaching and all encompassing the effects would be of that Brocolli choice. I suppose it’s no accident the vegetable in question was brocolli, either, with all those probability branches and probable florets.

Right then Sanso, Old Bean, pull yourself together, he told himself firmly. This here dead cow is a sign. He approached the dead cow slowly, sniffing the ether, in a manner of speaking, for clues. He recalled the Dead Cow Cult
from another elsewhen, and their affiliation with the Arduino
Time Travelling Internet Server, and wondered if there might be a connection.

The Fool Fog of Discounting, caused by the brocolli Choice, in Sanso’s head was starting to clear, and he began to access information. The Cult of the Dead Cow had merged with the Arduino Enterprise at some point, creating an offshoot called the Pirates Association of Time Hackers, otherwise known as P.A.T.H. They had been recruiting members from many times and places, and as usual, had attracted large numbers of teenagers.

One teenager in particular appeared to stand out in Sanso’s mind, a peculiar young man who went by the alias “Holy Cow”.

Oh My God! Sanso slapped his forehead again. (I really must get these AHA moments under control, he said to himself, rubbing his bruised head) It can’t be! Yes, it is! It’s Yikesy!

One thing led to another, as it tends to do, while Sanso sat meditating on the enigma of The Dead Cow. Random and seemingly disjointed images flashed through his mind, not unlike a random google had been back in the old days, the first being an odd word, Kogaionon . Accessing further information, Sanso discovered that it was an ancient Transylvaniun skull. The link between the dead cow and the skull was clear ~ it was a bone sync, they both had bones, there was no denying it. Encouraged, Sanso continued to meditate.

After some images of a battle at sea , presumably Trafalgar, Sanso intuitively felt, he heard the words “Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Wise words, he thought, and appropriate too. He popped these snippets into his indigo clue bag and continued to meditate. An image of a strange creature, half fish and half lion appeared next, a Merlion, which quickly morphed into an entertaining old movie playing across the screen of his minds eye, so to speak, in which someone who reminded him of Becky arrived in Paris during a rainstorm with just the clothes on her back ~ and interesting clothes they were, too! Sanso was glued to the screen, in a manner of speaking, and watched with amusement as a whole new wardrobe was delivered to the puzzled woman, followed by her mysterious benefactor: Georges.

Well, fancy Georges turning up again like that! Sanso was delighted. Perhaps Georges could shed some light on the mystery of the Dead Cow Blocking the Cave Entrance.

Sanso returned to his meditation and found himself eavesdropping on a conversation.

— Well, and Sanso, and Georges then, are they dead or what? How come Dory can see them?
— These ones are special, they have mastered the crossing of the Worlds, and can move through them. They move differently though. Sanso comes from a lineage of an ancient tribe of Zion, and had learn from them how to activate some portals, but only through the physical world of Dory, in their own time. He is not yet aware that he can also move through time as well, or even through other Worlds — worlds that he has no conception of yet.
Georges is more consummate in that art. Their meeting is not coincidental. You will see that.
— Thank you Grandad, it’s becoming a bit less confusing.
— Just flow with the story my little one, don’t hold on too much, or you will find it too difficult, and you will stop to find fun in it.

“Their meeting is not coincidental” Sanso repeated to himself, popping it into his clue bag. “Well, I don’t know about Meanings, but at least I have a new bag of clues now!”

“There!” announced Sharon triumphantly. “‘Ow was that, then?”

“‘Ow was what, Sha?” asked Gloria, frowning.

“I inspired ‘er, I got the message through!”

“That aint proper inspired channeling, you daft cow, that’s nonsense! Yeah, you got a message through, but talk about distortion! Blimey, Sha, that aint enlightened channeling, that’s just more rubbish!” Gloria said, disparagingly.

“I ‘ate to tell you this, our Glor, but it’s YOU what aint enlightened. That was me new Distraction Tactics, and if I do say so myself, it worked a treat.”

“Distraction Tactics? Aint she scattered enough already? It’s direction and focus what she wants, not more blimmen distractions!”

“You just aint getting it, are you, our Glor?” Sharon replied. “Answer me this, you enlightened tart, how’s she supposed to find any focus or direction if she’s pushing her energy in a hundred directions at once looking for meaning? Wait a minute, I tripped meself up there,” Sharon corrected herself, “What I meant to say was, why would she need a direction in the first place? She’s going where she’s going, and that’s direction enough.”

“Well you answer me this then, if the direction she’s going in is enough, why did she wake up disgruntled?” Gloria retorted, adding “Rude tart” under her breath.

“I ‘eard that!”

“Well? What’s yer answer to that then, eh?”

“‘Ang on a minute, lemme see if I can channel God’s Flounder fer some answers.” replied Sharon, closing her eyes, and starting to breathe noisily and purposefully.

“Oh fer Gawds sake, Sha, not that bloody breathing again. We all knows ‘ow to breathe already, honestly, it’s as if breathing’s just been invented or something. And not only that” she added “You’re dead, why are you breathing anyway?”

“Eh, good point, our Glor” said Sharon opening her eyes. “I’m wondering now if the dead are supposed to channel for answers, aren’t we supposed to HAVE all the answers?” Sharon was confused.

“Well I dunno about HAVING all the answers, Sha, but we’re supposed to be able to access them, aren’t we? Then pass ‘em on to the living ~ those what’ll listen, that is.”

“I think we’re making a mistake here, Gloria, but I can’t put my finger on it. Who’s our Oversoul anyway? Aint they supposed to be guiding us here?”

“I think we’re both focuses of the Great Flounder, our Sha.”

“Oh blimey” her freind replied. “P’raps we aint been dead long enough yet, to know what we’re doing, like.”

“How can you be ‘long enough’ if there aint no time anyway, that’s what I want to know.”

“Well there’s one thing I do know about being dead” said Sharon, brightening up, “We can ‘think’ ourselves anywhere at all. So whatddya say we go somewhere else and forget all this floundering?”

“Bloody good idea, where shall we go?”

“Oh dear, unlimited choices are so difficult, aren’t they? I don’t know where I want to go!”

“Follow me then, Sha!” Gloria suggested, and in an instant the pair of them were standing in a field in Dyffryn .

Ann wasn’t altogether sure what Godfrey meant when he referred to her new interest in continuity. Ann had always been interested in connecting links, yes, of that there was no doubt, but with so very many connecting links, and so many possible strings of connecting links, with so many possible divergences into yet more strings of connecting links, Ann really couldn’t fathom how anyone could possibly keep track of all those threads of continuity. Even a seemingly discontinuous assortment of unconnected links, once connected into a nonsense thread, became another continuity string. Furthermore, Ann continued ~ in a continuous fashion ~ to ponder, if everything is connected, then what, in actuality, was all the fuss about continuity? What exactly then WAS this concept of continuity? It seemed to Ann to be more like a string of barbed wire, or one of those flimsy but effective electric wire fences, boxing in the free flow of continuity, so that the objectively perceived continuity stayed rigidly within the confines of the preconceived tale. The inner landscape knew no such boundaries, although admittedly the inner landscape was far too vast to map.

Ann smiled to herself as she imagined trying to push pins into various inner landscape locations, tying strings from one to another, in an effort to map and label the inner continuity connections. Of course she was imagining it in a visual manner, because it was hard to imagine all those connections and strings being invisible and not taking up any space, and before long Ann’s inner map of pins and strings quickly resembled a tangle of overcooked spaghetti, perilously speckled with sharp pointy pins.

The image of the glutinous tangle dotted with sharp shiny pointers led Ann off on another tangent, but it was a tangent that soon became utter nonsense. Or was it, she mused. Perhaps it was those symbolically sharp pointy bits that in fact pointed out the immense variety of potential other continuity threads to choose from. Indeed, it could easily be said that having one of her characters dumped in Siberia in the previous story, painful though it was, was not unlike being pricked by a pin amidst the tangle of sticky pasta, a brilliantly effective pointer towards unlimited new directions.

Whichever way she looked at it (and Ann was aware that she might have gone down a side string) she simply couldn’t comprehend how anyone on this side of the veil could possibly even begin to understand the ramifications of the concept of continuity at all. Or how there could ever conceivably be a lack of it.

What was really intriguing Ann at this particular juncture of the experimental exploration of the story was the concept of the World View Library. This wasn’t unconnected to the continuity issue, far from it, it was all tied in (Ann sniggered at the unintentional pun) and connected. There were any infinite amount of potential continuity threads leading from, say, one persons desire or intent, to a particular world view in the library.

AHA shouted Ann, who at that moment had an ‘aha’ moment. Pfft, it’s gone, she sighed moments later.

Ann tried to catch the wisp of an idea that had flitted through her awareness. She had a visual impression of the library, endlessly vast and marvellously grand, with countless blindfolded characters dashing through, grabbing random pages or sentences, bumping into each other, snatching at phrases willy nilly, dropping notes along the way, and racing back out again into the ether. A stray thought here, a picture there, a name or a date, all on separate bits of crumbled paper clutched in the sweaty palms of the blindfolded characters as they rushed headlong back to their own realities to proudly share the new clues. Like magpies they were, snatching at anything that glittered brightly enough.

“I thought you said they were blindfolded?” interrupted Franlise.

Ann ignored the interruption, and continued ~ in a continuous fashion ~ to ponder the imagery of the library.

What the undisciplined purloiners of random snatches didn’t notice on their pell-mell excursions into the library were the characters in the library who weren’t wearing blindfolds. They smiled down from the galleries, calmly watching from above the mayhem that the news of the unlimited library access had occasioned, chortling at the scenes of chaos below. They smiled indulgently, for they too had first visited the library blindfolded, snatching at this and that, and racing home again to inspect the booty; they too had fretted and pondered over the enigmas of the incomplete snippets. Eventually (or not, it was after all a choice), they had bravely removed the blindfolds, slowed the mad race into a sedate stroll through the library, opened their eyes and looked around, sure of the way back home now, and not in a desperate hurry to blast in, snatch anything, and run back home.

After awhile, they began to realize that all the enchanting glittering jewels scattered around to catch their eye would still be there later, there was no urgency to grab them all at once ~ although, as Ann reminded herself, that too was a choice ~ some may well choose to be eternally snatching at glittering jewels.

Ann frowned slightly and wondered if she’d lost the thread altogether, and then decided that it didn’t matter if she had.

It was a choice, therefore, to remove ones blindfold, and stroll through the library ~ a choice to perhaps choose a book, sit down at a polished oak table and open it, a choice to stay and read the book, rather than ripping out a page and dashing back home. That would be one choice of continuity, a coming together of strings.

Ann wondered whether that would then be called a cable, or a rope ~ well perhaps not a rope, she decided, that had other associations entirely ~ but a cable, yes, that had associations of reliable and regular communications. There were always strings of continuity, then, strings of connecting links, between anything and everything, but when one stopped dashing about clutching at the sparkley bits, one might form a cable.

Or not, of course. Thin strings of continuity and connections were not ‘less than’ thick cables of reliable and regular communications. It has to be said though, Ann reluctantly admitted, that thick cables often made more sense.

She decided to hit send before embarking on a pondering of the meaning of Sense.

Franlise felt a change of energy and wondered if Dhurga was practising araiki movements. She certainly hoped so as she knew they were powerful movements and would help him express his intention. And when Dhurga expressed his intention and followed the flow of energy, the physical reality would match naturally and he would be provided for.

And Franlise firmly believed what was good for one was good for many.

She chuckled to herself upon overhearing Ann’s conversation with Godfrey in Noo Zooland. She had offered to proof Ann’s writings in order to give her easy access to the writings. It seemed prudent to leave the odd typo in order to allay suspicion .. after all she was only a cleaner.

Harvey, I am lost. Completely and utterly lost. I can’t even remember my own name. I have vague recollections of giving away some piglets and little elephants, but …. her voice trailed off miserably.

Harvey, saddened to see his friend so upset, put down the four poster bed, and gave her a hug. Damn it, he couldn’t remember her name either. Didn’t she just tell him what it was recently … Lilac?

hmmm no that doesn’t sound right.

Well, it was a pretty name. He would call her Lilac.

Lilac, embarrassed by her display of emotion, laughed and rubbed away the tears from her eyes. Anyway what does it matter? Most of my friends have gone from here now. Apparently they have gone on to the “Ninth World”, and here I am still bungling around in number eight. What is worse, there are parts of this world I no longer seem to be able to access, including memories which are precious to me. Lilac reflected on what she had just said for a moment. Well they would be precious if I could remember what they are. I popped through the portal to Nine when I found my friends had gone, but I couldn’t make head nor tail of it.

She shuddered in horror at the recollection of the strange land she had found herself in. She remembered a woman, an artist she had called herself, with a crazed look on her face, trying to unravel a ball of string which seemed to go on endlessly, and all the while rambling in such a way that made no sense at all to Lilac.

Never mind, Lilac, I am still here, said Harvey kindly. I can’t make any sense of this place either. I don’t think it matters really. Here, I know what, hop on this four poster bed and I will teach you a few proxy dreaming skills. That will cheer you up!

“Is there a probable Becky still at the Serendib Facility ~ in-the-rural-mountainous-central-region-of Sri-Lanka-in-the-2030’s ~ Godfrey?” Elizabeth hurriedly included some background information in her question to appease her publisher, the erudite and enigmatic Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

Elizabeth was amused to note that erudite was almost an opposite to rude, but as Elizabeth could vouch for, neither was mutually exclusive, as Godfrey was clearly equally at ease exhibiting both ends of the rude spectrum. But I digress, she said to herself, turning her attention to Godfrey.

“Elizabeth,” he said with a frown, “At your request I have had installed all manner of information retrieval systems, both objective and subjective, and yet you will insist on asking me questions instead of accessing the information yourself.” Godfrey shivered, attempting to wrap his velvet smoking jacket closer round his spare frame. The rich claret colour suited him perfectly, but it was clearly inadequate against the bitter cold. “Put another log on the fire, Liz, it’s colder than a witches tit in here today!”

“Don’t be rude, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth with a sniff. “I’m too cold to move, you do it. I’ve been absolutely frozen ever since Al sent us all to the South Pole. As a matter of fact, there’s been a cold snap all over the globe, which is why” she continued “I am trying to get us all out of there and back to Sri Lanka! We don’t want to start another Ice Age, Godfrey, this has to stop.”

“Ah, those were the days” smiled Pig Littleton. “I remember it well. It all started when Aunt Jeanne du Bappe was writing her book and wanted more ice for her G&T. Somehow it all escalated out of control, and before you could say Boo to a Goose, the whole place was covered in glaciers. A few million years later, when she’d slept off the effects of the gin, it was just beginning to thaw…”

“Dear old Jeanne, where is she now? I haven’t heard from her for…er, aeons.”

“Oh, she’s in fine fettle, got a job in The City you know. They say she’s quite something in The City these days, got quite a name for herself in Design & Communications.”

“Has she now! She’s done well for herself then, last I heard she was tiling kitchens in New Venice.”

Pig Littleton snorted. “Aunt Jeanne du Bappe, tiling in New Venice? Don’t be ridiculous, Liz, you’re getting your timelines in a twist. I expect that was one of her protegée’s, Aunt Jeanne’s been in The City for —well…”

Godfrey was uncharacteristically stumped.

Elizabeth wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to tease her old friend. “For how long?”

“For a very long Now”

“Well, I must say, that’s a fine thing isn’t it, to start an ice age and then bugger off to The City while everyone else freezes their tits off” said Elizabeth, blowing on her hands to warm them.

“You do realize, Liz dear, that every time you mention the word Cold, or Frozen, or Ice Age, you are increasing the potential of the Ice Age in the Probability Pool?”

“Godfrey, the Probability Pool has frozen over. We’ll be skating right over the top of it instead of dipping into it, if we don’t start a thaw soon!”

The Alienor Dimension, Georges and Salome

Dory (in our current timeline/space reality) meets Georges in a cave in Madagascar during her trip.
Georges doesn’t explain much, but we get the feeling that, though human, he’s a Traveler, crossing bridges through dimensional veils.
Sanso, who we happen to meet at times, is supposedly another type of Traveler too, but apparently happier to cross earth-bound space veils rather than time or other-dimensional ones.

Georges is closely linked to Salome. They are involved in the Alienor Dimension, another parallel universe, which was initially used as the set of the first story bits and in which they are involved at some historical points of importance.

The Alienor dimension is composed (as we know now) of a central sun named Alienor, and a few planets.

One of these planets is the Duane, which is a planet similar to Earth, except having easier access to magic, and having dragons, where the characters of Malvina, Arona, Leörmn, Irtak, Badul, Tomkin etc. are supposedly living. A map of parts of that planet was drawn somewhere in the archives.

There are two major historical plots occurring; one in a time parallel to our own, with Malvina, Arona, Badul’s explorations etc. And another, occurring what we would call centuries earlier, with Lola and her dragon, and the Yellow Princess Atiara story-arc (see Araili’s notes).
Somewhere in between, many years before Arona’s timeline, there is a subplot with Franiel, the monastery succession, the chalice and other magical artifacts. As far as we know, it ties to the other epochs thanks to Madame Chesterhope and Vincentius’ story.
Madame Chesterhope is, we found out, known to Georges in his youth, when he first met Salome. Madame Chesterhope is originally from our dimension (Earth, around 1800s something?) but has learned how to travel and is thus able to move through dimensions, and has a few special powers, presumably thanks to artifacts she gathered along her trips.

Another twin planet is the Murtuane, where there are giant eagles (counterparts of dragons), “mermaids”, zentauras (zebra-centaurs), green-skinned people, and purple beaches. This planet remains to be explored more in depth.

The third planet, the Phreal, is rarely spoken of, as its vibration was changed before even the first epoch, and is no longer ‘seen’. Guardians, a special race of this Alienor Dimension with great mastery of the energy manipulation powers are involved within most of the historical changes, and in this one in particular.

Malvina’s explorations are linked to those of her two “sisters”, each paired with a dragon. Initially she’s a healer, but recent developments have made her change locations a few times in space/time, and those alterations have inserted probabilities in the “past”. She has known Leonard, who is also a Traveler and who is linked to Franiel’s subplot.