Thursday, February 03, 2005


An Eye for an Eye

Prayer! That’s it. Prayer.

What are you on about now? What prayer?

That’s how Sanctiblogger escaped. He prayed. If we pray, Jesus or Allah will take us to the Ding an sich. Clasp us to their bosoms. Rescue us.

Oh, please. Like every poor imprisoned fucker in the world hasn’t prayed. Lot of good it did them. Better you should just write to Amnesty International.

This is different. I got an angle.

Yeah? Different how? What angle? You know some special prayer? Got some hot prayerline?

Oh, ye of little faith. Of course not. The prayer for opening the gate to the Ontic Bridge. Sort of an open sesame. And we got the third eye.

Ho, ho. This place is really getting to you, isn’t it? An open sesame for the Ontic Bridge. A third eye. If it wasn’t so dark in here, I’d find your face and punch it. Hey, what’s that? A flashlight?

No. I just opened my third eye.

Goddam, that’s bright. Shine it somewhere else.

Can’t. We have to both open our third eyes at the same time. Where the beams join, we’ll find the prayer for opening the Ontic Bridge.

I don’t have a third eye, dipshit.

Sure you do. Wait, just a minute. There’s some eye butter. It’s glued shut. A little spit, and there. Open. Oops, sorry about that shackle in the ear.

Hot damn. It is open. Where’d that come from?

It’s always been there, pal. You just don’t take very good care of it. How long since you’ve been to a Mysticoopometrist?

Never mind that. Let’s cross the beams and get the prayer. I’m cramped.

There—see it?

No. Oh, wait. Yeah. What’s that it says?

And, where the third eye high-beams crossed, they read aloud:

Raskolnikov, who crossed the bridge, hear us.
O holy denizen of Cinvat, thou who holdest the keys
To the perilous crossing from Defined to the Ding an sich
Open now the Ontic Bridge gate and take us to the
Bosom of Jesus and the lap of Allah.

That was a long, stupid-ass "open sesame." Whoa, hey. The shackles just fell off. And what’s that? The cell door’s opening. It’s a bridge!

The Ontic Bridge. The Bridge of Cinvat.

Let’s go.

Wait, not so fast. I remember something about this, now.

Forget it. Let’s just go.

And so they did.

We’re about halfway across, now.

Whoaaaaa, hell. What happened? We’re falling.

I just remembered.


No sinner can cross the Ontic Bridge, the Bridge of Cinvat. We got dumped.

But those creeps that nabbed us, they got across.

They had Monadic Insurance, I imagine.

Something’s ahead. We’re gonna hit the ground!

But they didn’t. No, indeed.

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