Quantum’d Kitties. Meet Bubbles, the Long Lost Shoggoth. She vanished into thin air aeons ago, during the second Gallant Shoggoth Uprising, nobody knows how, or why or where, and has now reappeared equally abruptly. She seems to be in perfect physical nick, if a bit dazzled and quite unable to tell where she’s been all this time or what she’s been up to. No worries. She’s been made welcome, given tons of Smarties, assigned to the female tribe and “twinned. with Grumpy, to offset her exceptionally cheerful temperament and somewhat temper Grump’s cantankerousness. Entangling entities seems to be Bubbles idea of match-making and a favourite hobby of hers. Oh, well…
Update 13/10/15 1. It’s National ShoggothHood Week (or two weeks, if the fancy takes us), proclaimed to celebrate the Return of the Native (Bubbles), and all things Shoggothic. Here’s an invite to the first of the many shindigs that will take place in and around my garden for the next seven days -or twenty, if the spirit grabs us. There’ll be food and drink and interesting substances and music and song and dance and beautifully staged tableux vivants -and even tableaux mourants, look you! amongst which not only the now universally acclaimed The Defenestration of Ben Bernanke but the never before seen in public The Spontaneous Combustion of Henry Kissinger. Everybody’s most welcome, except for politicians, banksters, lawyers, transnational CEOs, Bildebergians and other people of that ilk. Come join us and raise a cup or two to groovy protoplasm in particular and hackers, pirates, whistle-blowers, System Irritants and other awkward creatures in general.
2. National ShoggothHood Week seems to be prospering and expanding. Here we can see Bubbles being taken to meet the Celestial Tadpole in her beautiful Peripatetic Cluster, or Cloud 10, as it’s know amongst the discriminating space jet-setters.
Me, I’m taking a small break from all these wonderful excesses to meditate. There’s no bliss more blissful than contemplation of the Great Mother of the Six-Petal Wibbles. Here’s how you do it. Find a quiet spot and bunch of friendly Sneakes (that’s right, Sneakes; very sneaky snakes) to act as cushion for your fat ass and custodians to your fragile vile body. Invoke the Holy Optik Chaos. Drain your mind of all mundane stuff…and watch the pretty Wibbles float out of the dimensional hole produced by the combination of your propitious set up and your great need to forget, be it only for a short time, the horrors of the incoming American election, the ineluctable TTIP and the fact that the Xmas frenzy has already started. Happy dribbling!