User:Expositor Albrecht "Joey" Loophaus, FES: Difference between revisions

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I, Expositor Albrecht Loophaus, Fellow of the Eschatological Society of Black Earth, Wisconsin, have been living the same half hour for some three years now.  
I, Expositor Albrecht Loophaus, Fellow of the Eschatological Society of Black Earth, Wisconsin, have been living the same half hour for some three years now.  


The minibrane which has me enmeshed in a type-40 chronal loop manifests as my personal study. At eternal present, my world is comprised of one hard-backed chair for working, one puffy pre-Calamities love seat for relaxing, three shelves of books, a Barrone stilt desk, an Ambergris Corporation lapslab, high-pile red wool carpeting,and a window looking out on a frigid white-noise void. Oh, and there's a door: it opens on a frigid white-noise void. So I don't open it.
The minibrane which has me enmeshed in a type-40 chronal ring manifests as my personal study. At eternal present, my world is comprised of one hard-backed chair for working, one puffy pre-Calamities love seat for relaxing, three shelves of books, a Barrone stilt desk, an Ambergris Corporation lapslab, high-pile red wool carpeting,and a window looking out on a frigid white-noise void. Oh, and there's a door: it opens on a frigid white-noise void. So I don't open it.


It's not as bad it might seem. I'm always comfortably between meals and evacuations. The air's only barely too warm and can be rapidly cooled by the expedient of slightly cracking the window. The books are informative and blessedly resistant to memorization - but so dry, dry, dry! I'd kill myself in an instant if it meant, on starting the next cycle, that I'd wake up with a couple of paperback Jack Daw mysteries. I used to play human-rules Zness on the lapslab to relieve my boredom, but I grew depressed when the high scores kept resetting.
It's not as bad it might seem. I'm always comfortably between meals and evacuations. The air's only barely too warm and can be rapidly cooled by the expedient of slightly cracking the window. The books are informative and blessedly resistant to memorization - but so dry, dry, dry! I'd kill myself in an instant if it meant, on starting the next cycle, that I'd wake up with a couple of paperback Jack Daw mysteries. I used to play human-rules Zness on the lapslab to relieve my boredom, but I grew depressed when the high scores kept resetting.
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I am deprived even the variation of insanity. Madness requires malformation of brain as well as mind, and my neurological architecture resets every half-hour. And yet I retain my memories: the quantum aspect of experience is immune to type-40 effects. A pity, an irony, that I can't remember the exact mechanics from my Temporality and Psyche classes at the Sydney Expository. And chronal loops are nowhere to be found in these hateful books.
I am deprived even the variation of insanity. Madness requires malformation of brain as well as mind, and my neurological architecture resets every half-hour. And yet I retain my memories: the quantum aspect of experience is immune to type-40 effects. A pity, an irony, that I can't remember the exact mechanics from my Temporality and Psyche classes at the Sydney Expository. And chronal loops are nowhere to be found in these hateful books.


Thanks be that I've somehow gotten the legacy wireless working on the labslab. How, I don't know; another item lost in that educational lacuna. But I've made stable contact with a collaborative history of the post-Calamities years, and what's more, what I write seems to be immune to the chronal loop. It's possible that I've discovered some weakness in the minibrane; a crack that, if worked at and enlarged, could spread across the whole structure and collapse it, spilling me into the darkness beyond realities and extinguishing my memories.
Thanks be that I've somehow gotten the legacy wireless working on the labslab. How, I don't know; another item lost in that educational lacuna. But I've made stable contact with a collaborative history of the post-Calamities years, and what's more, what I write seems to be immune to the chronal ring. It's possible that I've discovered some weakness in the minibrane; a crack that, if worked at and enlarged, could spread across the whole structure and collapse it, spilling me into the darkness beyond realities and extinguishing my memories.


I'm all for it! ''Crescat scientia''.
I'm all for it! ''Crescat scientia''.

Latest revision as of 18:53, 3 December 2012

I, Expositor Albrecht Loophaus, Fellow of the Eschatological Society of Black Earth, Wisconsin, have been living the same half hour for some three years now.

The minibrane which has me enmeshed in a type-40 chronal ring manifests as my personal study. At eternal present, my world is comprised of one hard-backed chair for working, one puffy pre-Calamities love seat for relaxing, three shelves of books, a Barrone stilt desk, an Ambergris Corporation lapslab, high-pile red wool carpeting,and a window looking out on a frigid white-noise void. Oh, and there's a door: it opens on a frigid white-noise void. So I don't open it.

It's not as bad it might seem. I'm always comfortably between meals and evacuations. The air's only barely too warm and can be rapidly cooled by the expedient of slightly cracking the window. The books are informative and blessedly resistant to memorization - but so dry, dry, dry! I'd kill myself in an instant if it meant, on starting the next cycle, that I'd wake up with a couple of paperback Jack Daw mysteries. I used to play human-rules Zness on the lapslab to relieve my boredom, but I grew depressed when the high scores kept resetting.

I am deprived even the variation of insanity. Madness requires malformation of brain as well as mind, and my neurological architecture resets every half-hour. And yet I retain my memories: the quantum aspect of experience is immune to type-40 effects. A pity, an irony, that I can't remember the exact mechanics from my Temporality and Psyche classes at the Sydney Expository. And chronal loops are nowhere to be found in these hateful books.

Thanks be that I've somehow gotten the legacy wireless working on the labslab. How, I don't know; another item lost in that educational lacuna. But I've made stable contact with a collaborative history of the post-Calamities years, and what's more, what I write seems to be immune to the chronal ring. It's possible that I've discovered some weakness in the minibrane; a crack that, if worked at and enlarged, could spread across the whole structure and collapse it, spilling me into the darkness beyond realities and extinguishing my memories.

I'm all for it! Crescat scientia.