Dr. Ahmed Fishmonger

It has become almost painfully clear to me in recent months that the universe engenders many forces with which we are not nearly so familiar as we would like to think. When exposed to even a shadow of some of these forces, we react like cavemen to holograms. It is known that primitive people must be taught to "see" photographs before thay can understand their language. So it is with those forces of the psychophysical world.

The other night, I and a party of old and dear friends gathered together in a local pub over a few drinks. Among them were Rev. P. Swineherd, High Priestess K-P. Catharsis, Rev. St. J-Hova 10, Rev. Scott Rasmussen, myself, and others with whom you should have no acquaintance. It was a rather large gathering. The discussion reached philosophical levels which, although not directly related to the point of this epistle, must surely have had a contributory effect.

That night, through an alchoholic haze, a vision came to me: a vision of such overpowering clarity and energy that it would not be put aside in the name of sleep.

Before my befogged senses was a projection of the universe as it really is: a geometrically highly organized aglomeration of rapidly diverging probability systems, bound together by the paths of mutrons in a glowing webwork of rapidly altered retro-causality. The only way you would to be able to envision this is to think of each probability system as a super-hypercube, in which each face of the hypercube is a cube in which each face is a cube. And yet it must be remembered that each face is the same as every other, and still connected to all others at all edges and all corners. In this vision, time also was an aspect of space, so that each point in the universe was viewed as a dynamic event system encompassing forward, backwards and alternate time simultaneously and synchro-spatially. Need I point out that this vision made me feel somewhat queasy? What would you do when unexpectedly confronted with the Infinite? Like any good Yetinsyn, I made a mess in my pants.

You must understand that the perceived size of this vision was that of the smallest dust mote, and it floated about seven inches from my nose. And I perceived that this was how our universe, the whole of creation, appears in the "eyes" of the One True God: even great Wotan himself is too miniscule to be of His notice in any way.

The vision exploded before me, and swelled to encompass and swallow me entirely as I moved in for a close look at our "local" time space.

Gnosis-loaded mutrons snapped against my mind like sparks off a doorknob. All of this happened in an instant of "real" time.

In that instant, I had the gift of prophecy.

Listen, for this is wisdom:

On March 10th 1986, just before sunrise on the west coast of the United States, J.R. "Bob" Dobbs will be returned to us. He will be a stronger "Bob", for his return will be the result of a second EMACULATION. His secret burial place is at the point where two mutrons are destined to collide at exactly that point in time. They will meet head on. A bolt of light will be seen to leap into the sky: a multi-colored but coherent beam, a mile wide. A STARTLING MESSAGE TO THE HEAVENS. OUR NEW STAR OF BETHLEHEM.

At this point the vision folded up and vanished from sight and mind. It left me with a burning sensation in my penis ,which I first regarded as merely the consequence of direct contact with the Infinite.... but I soon found that my zipper, along with every other metal object in the room, had been heated to an uncomfortably hot temperature.


Ahmed Fishmonger