February 28, 2004

  • Outside the pleasure dome it’s calm.  I’m now in a field called the Plain of Napalm. It’s precisely featureless and lacking even shifting shadows.  It’s the kind of place where you start walking in a straight line and end up instead in circles.  There is an unseen sponginess here, a near manifestation whispering: “Remain and banish all desire.”  I could.  I almost could.  Except that I sense that this inanimate sponginess exactly desires that.  My desires would no doubt disappear, but only because it would inorganically suck them out of me.  This place gives SpongeBob SquarePants a bad name.  It’s time to transpose consciousness, I guees.


      --nfp, still reporting from Oblivion

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The End of Days

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