Vanilla is a product of Lussumo:Documentation and Support.
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“The Giants who formed this world into its sensual existence and now seem to live in it in chains, are in truth the causes of its life & the sources of all activity...”It is a television.This stark truth is revealed to me in a way that is immense, yet counter-actively insignificant. I feel cynical, but then, who would feel otherwise in this place? Oh yes, I should probably tell you about it—my location, I mean. It’s probably important to you, since you're not here, and therefore, can't see it. As such, I will grace you with my own description: I am in a desert. This is my first time in a place that is not man-made, but I do not mind–well, that is a lie. In fact, it is a two-part lie. First, I doubt anywhere I have been is truly man-made, due to the fact that man came from nature, just like the rest of nature is, and therefore anything man-made is all natural. Second, I mind it terribly much. I do not like this place at all, and I find myself muttering many uncouth words that I would otherwise be shocked to hear myself speak. I suppose I am justified.I said that this desert was not man-made, and I lied; this must be expounded upon. The desert seems man-made, almost artificial in nature–certainly not a real desert by any means. Of course, one reason it seems man-made is due to the fact that the desert is only about twenty feet long and twenty-feet deep. If I recall correctly, the average desert is a lot larger, and doesn't have cactuses painted on the walls. Cactuses? Cacti? Cactuses. You see, there are several rather nice cactuses painted on the three walls around me, and clouds are painted on the ceiling (though they manage only to remind me of real clouds, for true clouds flit about the skies with a finesse that these impostors can only dream of achieving).(Do clouds dream?)There is a nice, grand cactus in the middle of the desert, and slightly to the left—stage left, I mean. I have some experience in the stage, you know, for I spent a short stretch in London on one. I played the part of an extra in Shakespeare’s Hamlet. I got to kill him, too, but nobody enjoys talking about that part of the play.Anyways, the cactus. It is a nice cactus, as I said, and grand, too. I said this as well, I believe. Yes, I did. If I knew better, I would probably call it something else, but for now, I will proclaim that it is a saguaro cactus. I say as much, and no one corrects me, because I am right, although I might be wrong and nobody corrects me simply because I am all alone in this desert, this man-made desert.The only downside to such a cactus is that it has to be made of paper mache. You see, when someone makes a desert, they—out of necessity, you must understand—must take shortcuts that the various deities who sculpt natural deserts (wind, rain, and all the others) try to avoid at all costs. One of these is the creation of cacti; man cannot make cacti unless said cacti are made from paper mache. Another shortcut, which I briefly mentioned earlier, are painted walls.It turns out, much to my surprise, that when creating an artificial desert, man cannot place such a vista anywhere, or any other scenery of the kind: He has to put it on the walls. Oh, yes, he can make a rock, but anyone can make a rock if he tries hard enough. I made one once, you know—but that was out of paper mache. No, when it comes to real plants, real life, and real scenery, nature wins every time. The one thing where man beats nature is in the realm of air conditioning. Man cannot create distance, but only the illusion of it, just as he cannot create space, nor can he create nothing. Still, air conditioning is triumph enough.
@WillCouperThere. Happy now?Yes.
You'd be a very amusing getaway driver. We could nickname you .. but I'll leave the nicknames to Spiral.
I'll drive, but I still get to be Clyde. You can load the guns-