Act 2

Suddenly, what seemed at a distance like a fantastic woolly mountain with its peak dissolving into the darkness above, materialized in the intimate space directly to the side of the group. The light from a passing purple fireball lit up its sharp angles and shrubs clinging to its surfaces for their dear life. Before long, a side of the mountain starter to split and eventually cracked open, separating a smaller rock from its gigantic mother. The rock shimmered and vibrated and floated closer to the group. It emitted neither sound nor smell, still, some powerful sensation radiated from it. It was both, mesmerizing and comforting.

Seeker. What a beautiful construction. No, uhm, a creature. What is it?

Ima. That’s Crystal, my assistant.

Crystal started producing sounds. As if it was learning to speak for the first time, it made chirps and clicks.

Ima. They are trying to speak human that they have forgotten a while ago.

Gradually, the sounds became separated into distinct discernible syllables. The Rock started clicking like a Kalahari desert native, then burst into a mesmerizing song spanning an astounding vocal range from the highest coloratura soprano to the deepest bass.  Finally, something like Helloooo ricocheted around the open space.

Seeker. Hello, your Majesty.

Crystal. Oh, you can call me Crys. Nice meeting you, Madame.

The voice was fabulously deep and velvety, now and then reaching the lowest possible notes of a Russian basso profundo. For a few moments, it even sounded as if the Rock was, indeed, speaking Russian. Everything around the Cave shimmered and chimed as if the underground space was filled with an infinite number of chandeliers and wine glasses.

Seeker. Nice meeting you too, Chris, I am truly shivering with excitement and anticipation.

Crystal. It’s Crystal, not Christian. Crys.

Seeker. Uhh, OK, sorry, I did not mean to offend you.

Crystal. Or, dear, don’t worry about it, Your Preciousness, it is impossible to offend a rock.

[Laughs quietly but the Space vibrates and flickers in tune with the lows and highs of its laughter].

Ima. My crystalline assistant is very young and impetuous, they will have to learn not to behave as a human teenager, eventually.

Seeker. When were you born, Crys?

Crystal. 15 Nisan 3761 anno mundi, in Jerusalem.

Seeker. Oh. So, a teenager, hah?

Ima. Well, from my point of view, yes. [Laughs]

Seeker. Were you there during the Crucifixion ?

Crystal. Yes, but there were lots of crucifixions happening, my friend. Those were difficult times for Judea. My mother worked as a doctor at the local morgue’s woman’s section, where they determined if a person was dead—which needed to be reported to the rabbi as soon as possible so they can be buried on time, according to the law— or that he or she could still be resuscitated. I sometimes went there with my father or grandma to bring her lunch if she worked late. I still have nightmares about the place.

Seeker. Did they bring Jesus to that morgue too?

Crystal. I don’t think so. If this apparently extremely popular preacher did get executed near Jerusalem at this time, he left no trace of the event. Do you believe the story?

Seeker. Not really.

Rock starts spinning and morphing, waves run over its surface in all directions. The Cave reverberates and brilliant shapes, woven from the continually twisting strings, zoom by, passing though solid objects and people. A man runs out of the grassy table chamber, screams and jumps in excitement.

Ima. That’s Narinder Singh Kapany, the inventor of fiber optics.

Seeker. Isn’t he still alive?

Crystal. Or, we have lots alive people here. Very much alive!

Seeker. This place is so, so unbelievably exciting! One can conduct some amazing thought experiments in this Cave.

Ima. True enough. Though it takes plenty of imagination, mental resilience, and even courage to direct those thought experiments here.

Seeker. I want to call this Cave Prostor.

Crystal. That means grand open space, I recall. What do you wish to accomplish with this quest? What do you seek to find?

Seeker. My greatest desire is to understand. I was raised to believe that deep understanding of an issue generates solution and may lead to change.

Ima. What exactly do you want to understand?

Seeker. [Hesitantly] Well, everything. . .

Crystal. Everything?

Seeker. OK, everything within the limitations of human abilities and confines of her cultural heritage; and all that is necessary to affect a positive Change, the tiniest amount of change than can produce a sweeping transformation.

Seeker. I wish to explore bringing together dialectical materialism and Platonism.

Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz. Oh, no, you wish to reconcile them—which, in itself, is a noble pursuit, das gnädige Fräulein.

Seeker [bows and laughs]. Frau, Your graciousness.

Ima. Marx and Plato would make an interesting combination.

Seeker. You are making fun of me. Hah?

Ima. I am not, child, believe me. You may be used to sense a personal attack when there is none. When you were little, sarcasm was often used against you as an emotional assault weapon, but now, as an adult, you should practice trusting people.

Seeker. [Giggles]. Trusting people and magical creatures, right? I’ll try, your Majesties, I will.

Seeker. Most of all, I wish to know how we, humans, create our world, our cultures and civilizations. Who may be entrusted to fashion the Story of the world? Who can tell it to me, to my children, to other people’s children and grandchildren. Who either has power over or respect of their social group that they are allowed to create cosmology. Do humans construct their own myths and universes as a group, practicing group-think or are certain individuals somehow chosen to do so? In particular, I’d like to explore how the Science being produced.

Edward O. Wilson. Human beings are absurdly easy to indoctrinate—they seek it.

Seeker. Ouch.

Seeker. Twenty first century cosmology is being drafted before our very eyes. To witness this development is as fascinating—and as frightening—as finding oneself placed centre-stage as a spectator of our current grand political extravaganza unraveling in real time.

Crystal.[shows a grand spectacle, with dragons, of ancient Chinese celebration]

Lee Smolin. Social thought is influenced by our cosmological ideas and vice versa. (

Ima. Yes, they do. The ancients saw it as the congruency between grand macrocosm and personal microcosm. The twentieth century western cosmology was largely defined by both, the abstract precepts and the personal beliefs of the practitioners of theoretical physics.

Crystal. And by the gigantic catastrophe of the WWI, which destroyed the nineteenth century world in one big bloody bang.

Seeker. I believe the cosmology of the present century is shaping in the wake of some major late last century scientific and political events. Those are, firstly, the massive failure of theoretical physics to create a unified theory—mainly the collapse of the promise of the String theory—tells you how dependent we have become on theoretical physics. Especially important is the fact that this failure, which swept through the careers of a whole generation of the workers in the field, is devastating for physics. Secondly, the massive global postcolonial uprising, which is taking place both at the centres and the peripheries of the old colonial powers. And, finally, the rise of many accomplished feminist intellectuals, who are riding the wave of the ongoing economic and physical emancipation of women from the shackles of the patriarchy.

Arundati Roy. [T]hose who have learned to divorce hope from reason.

Seeker. The grasshoppers.

Crystal. Many of your comrades point to the powerful ideologues of the neoliberal economic policies as the main movers and shakers in the modern world.

Seeker. Yeah, I know they do. Point to them, I mean. Hey, what would Karl say?

Ima. Perhaps, rather, these accomplished feminists academics are riding the wave of their rising expectations of the actual emancipation. Whatever it is they are riding—this weaving into the global social fabric of their individual threads streaming from the vastly different economic, social, religious, geographical, and cultural points of entry is very impressive.

Seeker. Perhaps, these new feminists thinkers will be able to put together a coherent new cosmology, and, in particular, a new philosophy of science.

Lee Smolin. [A] theory can be fantastically beautiful, fruitful, for the development of science, and yet at the same time completely wrong. (book, p.45)

Seeker. I would like this new Womanist cosmology to be completely right!

Crystal. Some feminist philosophers, notably, Maralee Harrell, indicate the present urgent need to produce more scholarship in the area of feminist philosophy of science.

Seeker. Yes, so far we have had men doing both, the physics itself and the interpretation. Such is the power structure of our society at the moment. Not everyone gets to construct the Creation Story.

Ima. For the sake of the success of your learning Journey, we need to figure out what exactly we are dealing with here.

Seeker. Yes, your Majesty, let us start with the basics.

Ima. You have quite a load of various schools of philosophical thought to process and to make sense of.

Crystal. This is exiting! [Rock is spinning around and (picture of something from ancient science) can be seen inside it]. Shall we start with the Greeks?

Seeker. [Laughs]. Time is of the essence, Rockie! By the time we sift through all this history, I’ll be an old woman.

Ima. Yes, Time. The concepts of time and space have often been the focal point and the point of departure of human attempts to understand the world. We can start with those.

Seeker. Also mind and matter. The ideas of science and philosophy get percolated from their practitioners via public intellectuals and the various media all throughout the public sphere.

Crystal. But seems to me these ideas often percolate, as you say, by way of some peculiar meandering routes.

Crystal. [shows some geometrical forms]

Seeker. To me, before we get to trace all the human thinking avenues, before we  perform the archeology digs along those meandering and, at times, torturous paths the surviving ‘isms have taken in order to actualize— right here and now, in the current public and intellectual space—we must consider the fact that, presently, everything of value starts and ends with Karl Marx. If there were one thing I was able to understand from the Das Kapital, it was that the ceaseless movements and transmutations of Matter are neither chaotic nor senseless, but always form stable historical and spatial patterns during their homogeneous state—however long or brief the latter is. These stable patterns are constituted of the internal relationships of a complex system’s parts. And I hope that this Journey can affirm my hunch that the number of all possible patterns of the material formations in the universe is rather small, while that they are structurally rather simple—as there must be only a few ways in which parts in a complex system can ‘fit’ together in an energetically feasible way. These patterns—or forms—are not something that has a priory existence somewhere outside of the physical world, as Plato had proposed. Furthermore, even though they are immaterial and relational, they are neither mental nor ideal, but are real and objective. Naturally, your Majesties, I would like to investigate the philosophical meaning of those parameters, real and objective, permeating through my uber-domesticated, mad, poststructuralist, post-lingocentric, post-postmodern world. Although I don’t believe in magic, your Greatness,

Ima. I know you don’t, my musical child.

Seeker. I do believe in the interconnectedness of everything.

The History and Peoples of the Great Steppe

Eurasian Steppe

The flat route, called the Eurasian Steppe, extends all the way across the continent, from Moldova to Manchuria. Over the millenia, great masses of nomads walked and rode on horseback back and forth along its grasslands and savannahs. The story of these movements is central to the history of Europe and Asia.

As one can see from the map above, the border between Europe and Asia is all but imaginary. It is represented by the two red lines on the map: the long vertical one goes along the Ural Mountains and the short horizontal one crosses Anatolia somewhere between the Black and the Caspian seas. Closer up, the Great Steppe is broken up into the Russian and the Mongolian-Manchurian ecoregions.

Mongolian eagle hunter with his Golden Eagle
Mongolian eagle hunter with his Golden Eagle

The story of the Steppe has never actually being properly told. This corner of our blog is dedicated to the history, ecology, culture, food, and songs of the great Steppe.

Grasslands of the Mongolian Steppe
Mongolian-Manchurian Steppe with yurts in the background

 My Night Quest—Journey into the Unknown

Moon Goddess

That night, I woke up with a familiar start. My heart was pounding unevenly, like a jailed bird trying to break through the cage of my ribs, it was hard to catch my breath. I put my hand on my chest to quiet it, so it would not wake up those who were sleeping.

I put on some clothes and went outside. The night was heavy. There were no stars in the sky or in that place one would expect to find the sky; it was difficult to discern its outlines. The earth and the sky were joined in that warm, fluid, pungent, dark substance that was probably air, as I was inhaling it, in spite of it being so heavy and thick. Instead of slowing down, my heart raced, and my skin, tantalizingly prickled by heavy air, transmitted a few waves of ecstasy. The waves left three zones of tingling expectation in my body: one in my mouth, one in my nipples, and one in my genitals. This often happened when I was excited.

I left my clothes behind; I knew that the Journey had begun. I sprung up and started swimming through the thick fragrant night air, occasionally landing back on the soft ground and pushing against it with my toes, the joyful expectation increasing with every stroke of my burning arms.

I landed back on the ground when I sensed the proximity of the Gate. Although I could see more clearly now, my eyes were still unreliable in such deep darkness. The Gate was immense; I could not see its top or its sides.

Here are the gates of the pass of Night and Day, and a lintel and a stone threshold enclose them. *

A small group of people of indeterminate gender was gathered near the entrance. Two of them were slowly pulling the Gate open. I was disappointed that there were no chariots. I expected one!

The mares that carried me as far as my heart could aspire were my escorts: they guided me and set me on the celebrated road of the God who carries the (man) of knowledge. . .

A beautiful, tall woman approached me and introduced herself as Maya.

And the Goddess graciously received me, taking my right hand in hers, and she spoke and addressed me thus: ‘I greet you. For no evil fate sent you to travel this road but Right and Necessity. You must learn all things, both the unwavering heart of truth and the opinions of mortals in which there is no absolute trust. But nevertheless you will learn these things too—how what seems had reliably to be, forever traversing everything. But come, I will tell you—preserve the account when you hear it—the only roads of inquiry there are to be thought of: one, that it is and can not be, is the path of persuasion (for truth accompanies it); another, that it is not and must not be—this I say to you is a trail devoid of all knowledge. Only one story, one road, now is left: that it is. And on this there are many signs that, being, it is ungenerated and indestructible, whole, of one kind and unwavering, and complete.

Here are the gates of the pass of Night and Day, and a lintel and a stone threshold enclose them. *

A small group f people of indeterminate gender gathered near the entrance; two of them were slowly pulling the Gate open. I was disappointed that there were no chariots. I expected one!

The mares that carried me as far as my heart could aspire were my escorts: they guided me and set me on the celebrated road of the God who carries the (man) of knowledge. . .

A beautiful, tall woman approached me and introduced herself as Maya.

And the Goddess graciously received me, taking my right hand in hers, and she spoke and addressed me thus: ‘I greet you. For no evil fate sent you to travel this road but Right and Necessity. You must learn all things, both the unwavering heart of truth and the opinions of mortals in which there is no absolute trust. But nevertheless you will learn these things too—how what seems had reliably to be, forever traversing everything. But come, I will tell you—preserve the account when you hear it—the only roads of inquiry there are to be thought of: one, that it is and can not be, is the path of persuasion (for truth accompanies it); another, that it is not and must not be—this I say to you is a trail devoid of all knowledge. Only one story, one road, now is left: that it is. And on this there are many signs that, being, it is ungenerated and indestructible, whole, of one kind and unwavering, and complete.


I bowed and inquired about the chariot and the light (I still could hardly see anything). The Goddess chuckled, but stopped when she sensed my embarrassment.

“The horses are too fast and the Light is too bright,” she said in a low velvety voice with an unfamiliar accent, “We cannot use them for our purposes. You will have to use your skin and your songs, my child.” As she let go of my burning hand, my heart began to slow down and beat more regularly, but each beat felt deeper, sending seismic waves through my hyperactive body, forcing it to pulse to the same rhythm as my heart. I no longer felt overwhelmed and frustrated, but the feeling of ecstasy intensified.

By that time the Gate was fully open, and the lanky androgynous forms, as naked as I was, floated towards us. They encircled us and we all moved inside. Yet another disappointment awaited me, however; instead of moving along the surface, we traveled downwards. When I looked back, the entrance no longer appeared to be a gate; instead, it seemed I was in a cave. Its opening was oriented towards the sky, which was full of huge glittering stars. Maya touched me lovingly and my disappointment dissolved; I knew there was a reason for everything. The unexpected brightness of the starry sky blinded my eyes; it took  some time to recover my vision.

Here I cease to tell you my trustworthy argument and thoughts about the truth. Henceforward, learn mortal opinions, listen to the deceitful arrangement of words. For they determined in their minds to name two forms, and that is where they have erred. And they distinguished them as opposite in form and set up signs for them separately. Here the ethereal flame of fire, gentle, very bright, is in every direction the same as itself and not the same as the other; that other is opposite—unknowing night, dense in form and heavy. The whole arrangement I tell you so that a mortal mind may never confound you.


The narrower bands are full of unmixed fire; in the middle of them is the Goddess who governs all things.


First of all the Gods She devised Love.


As we went further down inside the earth, I realized how absolutely quiet the night had been so far. An orchestra of sounds slowly began to penetrate the heavy silence as we approached the underground world of the Unknown. There was something else, too, something that I could not quite identify—the very unusual sensation of intuiting the shape of the colossal chambers through which our group was floating. These sensations came in pulses, they penetrated my mind and oriented me in space in spite of the lack of visual clarity.

The underground space appeared to be separated in variously shaped chambers. Some of the chambers appeared to be very much like ordinary rooms, filled with extraordinary things; others were more like outdoor spaces, like forests meadows and riverbanks. Occasionally, a chamber looked as if it were being viewed through a microscope or a telescope or even  a moving camera—the size of the objects was so unexpected.

Throughout, there was continuous motion and activity: splendid crystals formed right in front of us. I touched them, to complement my dim vision; enormous balls of liquid fire, that neither burned nor blinded, twirled around, expanded, shrunk, and occasionally exploded.

To be continued

*ancient Greek mythical poetry



Medicine Herbs used in Ayurvedic medicine


  • delicious medicine
  • a powerful systemic anti-inflammatory agent
  • the best vehicle to deliver nutrients & medicines
  • stimulates weight loss, reduces serum LDL cholesterol and triglycerides

Ghee is a food substance that has been used in India for thousands of years in cooking, skin care, local therapeutic applications, and massage. According to this medical tradition ghee is a yogavahi—a catalytic agent that carries the therapeutic principle of medicines directly into the seven dhatus (tissues) of the body and accelerates the bioavailability of these medicines. When ghee is prepared by the Ayurvedic practitioners, sacred ancient chants accompany each procedure.

Ghee is produced from milk, cream or butter by slowly and carefully heating the selected dairy product until all the milk solids and water are removed. This conscious, loving, and meticulous preparation makes ghee distinct from a simple clarified butter. Since nearly all the milk constituents and water in ghee are eliminated during preparation, what’s left behind becomes a pure butter oil. Unlike most vegetable oils, the butter fat is a saturated type of oil; its structure lacks open unsaturated bonds and therefore does not get chemically combined with oxygen to form harmful rancid compounds.

Ghee by itself is a very valuable medicine. It is rich in antioxidants and acts as an aid in the absorption of vitamins and minerals from other foods, serving to strengthen the immune system. Scientist have discovered that ghee has one of the greatest healing components for the human body. It has a high concentration of short-chain fatty acid called butyrate, which has been shown to possess antiviral properties, inhibit the growth of cancerous tumors, and greatly enhance the energy production by mitochondria.

Many people are afraid to consume ghee because they fear it would make them gain weight. Nothing can be further from the truth! Butyric acid can not only prevent but even reverse the harmful metabolic effects of a high-fat diet, including the weight gain. Ayurvedic doctors state that ghee as medicine improves memory  and “lubricates” the connective tissues thus making the body more “flexible.”

Ghee Preparation

The ghees that are infused with medicines are called Ghrita. Ghrita works because ghee is a remarkable carrying substance for medicinal herbs, minerals or Superfoods infused into it. It serves as an ideal delivery system to a target organ—which is a crucial step in attempting to obtain the maximum benefit from any drug formulation. Being a heated oil, it readily captures the plant’s fat-soluble and water-soluble phytochemicals. And, if careful procedures are employed, the volatile essential oils can also be captured by ghee. In fact, ghee dissolves and retains a much larger proportion of a herb’s components than alcohol tinctures, infusions or vegetable oil macerations. This makes ghee the most efficient herbal preparation on the market.

Use of your prescribed ghrita is exceptionally simple. One tea spoon is taken daily, typically by being spread on a toast or put into meals. Even the worst-tasting medicines have pleasant tastes and aromas when prepared in ghee.

Rapid Ageing in Washington

Our popular Terra-based correspondent, earthly body inhabitor, Boris Ridgeoff,
met with a terrible fate on January 20th, while travelling to and from Washington, DC, the capitol of the USofA, a powerful country at west side of our Attachment Planet. Boris went there on assignment to investigate the local deviation of the Charles-Augustin de Coulomb’s law, F=kq1q2/r2), observed by our FarSide of the MoOn spy telescopes. The Coulomb’s Law deviation apparently resulted from an alarming lack of overall charge neutrality of the human to human interaction due to the preponderance of negative charge among the truly enormous crowds there. Our Selenic quantum-algorithm-simulating Mother Of All Computers (MOAC) has calculated that the crushing surge of -e particles, emanating from the podium, has disrupted the equilibrium that has been held on the planet Terra since it had first coalesced into a rock 4.54 billion terrestrial years ago.

It was later observed that the George Simon Ohm’s Law, V = RI, was not upheld during that day either, even though both, the median distribution of the Voltage (V) and the Current (A) appeared normal, but the Resistance (Ω) was futile! The latter phenomenon quite possibly further disrupted the local Charles-Augustin de Coulomb’s law compliance as well.

Due to all these unusual and disturbing electrodynamic surface events, Mr. Ridgeoff was subjected to an extreme acceleration-deceleration force of wildly variable magnitude and direction. This resulted in accelerated aging of his already stressed to the tilt protein-wired journalist body. His before and after photos are seriously disquieting. Mr. Ridgeoff will have to decide now if he still wished to remain in his present state of Terra-bound organic decomposition or comeback home to the MoOn and get his new fiber-reinforced awesome feminoid physique.

Boris before the Inauguration
Boris After the Inauguration

Hillary Clinton Considers Emigrating to MoOn

Today loonies were very excited by the new revelations that Hillary Clinton—bitter, enraged, despondent after her unexpected election loss last year— is considering immigrating to the MoOn. As reported to us by her personal aid, who wished to remain anonymous, Clinton has not decided yet if she wished to visit our silver Rock alive and in her own body or would rather throw herself off a cliff and get post mortally transformatively reincarnated into the ultimate fiber-reinforced Super feminoid. A powerful former first lady, senator, and secretary of state will have to learn that structure of the social fabric in the Land of the MoOn, especially on the Far Side, is quite unlike the one she has been accustomed to on her corrupt home planet. Loonies do not have the so-called “representative democracy,” thus she will not be able to run for an office, as there are no offices or elections here. In due time, however, as her age will have advanced and she will have gained some selenic wisdom, she may be recommended to join the Lunar governing body, the Supreme Authority of the Selenic Safta Yishuv (SASSY) as an Apprentice Oracle.

It’s not yet clear if her hubby is going to tag alone, but he might be seduced by the all feminoid planetary environment.

Ivanka Trump Kidnapped

On September 21, walking home after the Young Professionals Sukkot Dinner at the Shul of their Lubavitch Centre on 2110 Leroy Place in Washington, with their phones still turned off, Ivanka Trump and her husband were kidnapped by several heavily armed people, of unidentifiable gender, dressed in white and wearing It masks and hemp clothes. At first, when the power couple so suddenly vanished, people guessed that they just decided to skip Washington during the hard times ahead. However, as it was later revealed, the true story was quite different.

Trump and Kushner were found and rescued a long time later, right after the midterm elections of 2018. They appeared to be doing quite well, though Ivanka’s head was completely covered by the traditional Lithuanian headscarf and she was wearing flat shoes, while Jared was wearing Old Norse kyrtill and brøkur. His hair was so long that it completely covered his shoulders while his beard covered his chest.

Subsequently, it was disclosed that they both converted to Dievturība, which explained why Ivanka no longer had to shave her head, as required by the strict rabbinical law, but only shave her armpits, legs, and maybe something else if she so desired, while her husband didn’t have to shave at all. It was revealed that they were kidnapped by a small band of Forest Brothers, Lithuanian WWII partisans still waging guerrilla war in the Scandinavian forests from time to time, and stealthily transported by horse carriages to a Lithuanian village, Kretinga, a place in which, naturally, no one even imagined to be looking for the First Daughter and her hubby. Kushner was also seen carrying a tattered copy of the Snorri’s Edda manuscript.

When asked about their ordeal, Ms. Trump reportedly said she missed her kids and her parents a lot and is very SAD to have disappointed her daddy so much. When asked if she and Jared were suffering from the Stockholm syndrome as they seemed to be willingly accepted the religion of their captors, who were known Nazi collaborators, Ivanka stated firmly, “I will not be distracted by the noise.”

Immigration to the MoOn

Ever since this blog was introduced into the terrestrial cyberspace, we  have been inundated with the requests for more information about the process of immigration to the MoOn. The Immigrant Visa Programme for Humans and their Attached Species (IVPHAS, not to be confused with IPHAS: the INT/WFC Photometric H-Alpha Survey of the Northern Galactic Plane) is handled by the Ministry of Selestial Affairs (MSA), Immigration Division.

The potential applicants are naturally of two distinct kinds, those who are still alive and those who had passed away. The latter category is much more numerous. Preferential treatments, followed by a speedy reconstruction, were granted to the dead earthlings by the special Committee for Historical Revision (CHR), a powerful lobby. About 75.33 per cent of the CHR revisionists belong to the Historical Materialism branch of historiography. CHR grants the Special Status visas to the terrestrial humans who have proven to be extraordinary in their achievements. As an artifact of what the selenic anthropologists call the phenomenon of the Extreme Historical Inaccuracy of the terrestrial written and oral traditions of record keeping, these humans are predominantly the DWM, unfortunately. This category, however, straight off the bat excluded all the celebrated generals, kings, and various tribal leaders who had gained their historical superstar status by leading other men into legendary wars and battles. Many of the latter have used the best undead lawyers to achieve selenic reincarnation and escape their predicaments in the underworlds of their particular religious variety. Naturally, most of those who, during their terrestrial lives, had been baptised into the various types of monotheism, were trying to escape the clutches of their respective gory hells. However, their applications were routinely discarded without even being examined. There were some loonies, we must add, who were greatly troubled by this discriminatory practice, as they claimed that the historical deeds of these military leaders were entirely gender-based acts and that being reconstructed into fibrous feminoid bodies, followed by a few years of intense muliebrity rehabilitation, would completely eradicate their sociopathy. Nevertheless, those protests have usually fallen on deaf ears, so to speak, (N.B., actually, loonies do not have ears; this earth-bound colloquial expression is used strictly in its common signifier-based language whereas loonies use a metalanguage algorithms, see more on this in our next week’s posts).

The following, is an official announcement by IVPHAS that concerns applications for permanent residency from the relatives or guardians of the currently

cryogenically-frozen human terrestrial subjects. IVPHAS spokesloonie announced last week that only the applicants who had been frozen by the process of vitrification using solid carbon dioxide would be considered. Furthermore, the applicants must submit the 120 pages notarized proclamation, they have received, that their cryogenically-frozen human a) will automatically agree to be epigenetically-reprogrammed into a fibrous-bodied Jewess and b) for the rest of her lunar existence submit to the Supreme Authority of the Selenic Safta Yishuv  (SASSY).

Donald Trump Announces Plan to Switch his Party Membership to Democrat

Loonies, the humanoid species presently awake on the Far Side of the MoOn, were all abuzz today, Sep. 10, digesting the breaking news from their Attachment Planet, Terra. As first reported by Boris Ridgeoff, our Terra-based correspondent, the American president, Donald Trump, has switched his party membership.

Speculation abound, as various commentators rushed to comment and the oracles rushed to predict the future of American and world politics and the overall chances of survival of the  current terrestrial civilization. The selenic AI operators were put into function overload mode in the push to transcribe all the commentaries into the loonies’ native language, Pathon n-2.    The following is a transcribed report of the breaking news by our special correspondent, Lunatic Ridge.

At an unannounced and unexpected rally in Panguitch, Utah, before a cheering crowd of what appeared to be the majority of the adult population there, and flanked by his entire family, including all of his grandchildren, president Donald Trump took the crowd by surprise when he announced he was switching political parties—again—going back to being a Democrat.

The 45th president of the United State of America told his bewildered supporters, “Today, I will tell you, with lots of prayers and lots of thinking, and lots of cable news watching, I can’t help you anymore being a GOP President. So, tomorrow, I will be changing my registration to Democrat. I want to be popular with every American”, Donald continued, “not just with the bunch of losers, like yourself.” While the crowd of supporters and a nearby small pack of protesters appeared to be stunned and began the process of digesting this announcement, the president’s security detail grabbed Mr. and Mrs. Trump and his family members, and whisked them away.

Moscow Celebrates Her 870 Birthday!


To commemorate the date, on September 9th and 10th, the city invites its visitors to enjoy over two hundred free city tours. Today and tomorrow, the major Moscow museums will have free exhibitions. Scheduled the tours and museums plan to showcase the cultural, literary, and architectural accomplishment of the city’s past and present residents. Visitors can join walking, biking, and skateboarding tours that allow them to see the city through the eyes of Moscow’s celebrated and beloved (though, at times, persecuted or murdered) poets, artists, writers, and architects. The city invites its visitors and inhabitants to stroll though the oldest historical neighbourhood and learn about the turning moments in the lives of the inhabitants this very old European city. The parks and vast city squares will host dancing and athletic pageants and concerts.