SALUTATIONS DEAR READERS!
We have much to discuss!
Earlier this week two skeletons were unearthed from beneath a Lincoln Oak on the Green by Hurricane Sandy. Furthermore, this is Halloween Week and today is All Souls’ Day and the Day of the Dead - in light of these facts it seemed only natural to speak once more with an old friend of THE TURDY POND: Mr. NIGHTRAVEN MURDERCLAW, the centuries-old Lich who resides beneath the Green. He is a harbinger of unspeakable Doom, and we spoke to him earlier in the year about Occupy.
TURDY POND: How are you, Nightraven?
NIGHTRAVEN MURDERCLAW: I AM AS I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN, SINCE MY ESSENCE WAS TRANSMUTED FROM THE PUNY SPECTRE ENCASED IN FLESH YOU CALL A SOUL INTO WHAT I AM NOW. WHAT I AM NOW IS WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN, EVEN BEFORE I WAS CHANGED. TIME IS NOT LINEAR, MORTAL. I AM AS I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN. IF YOU MUST ASK YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND.
TP: Well, you seem to be contradicting yourself a bit, but okay. Great. At least you’re talking.
NrMc: YET YOU DO NOT LISTEN.
TP: I’m going to change the subject. As you’re no doubt aware, two skeletons were unearthed on the New Haven Green earlier this week by “Superstorm” Sandy’s toppling of a tree. We all know that the Green was once a burial ground, so it seems as though this was just a freak occurrence. Bodies are down there, and it seems only natural that a couple could get tangled up in -
NrMc: WERE I CAPABLE OF LAUGHING, HUMAN, I WOULD BESEECH YOU NOT TO MAKE ME DO SO.
TP: So then am I to understand there’s more here than meets the eye?
NrMc: HAVE YOU LISTENED TO NOTHING I’VE TOLD YOU? HAVE YOU NOT EARS? HAVE YOU NO APPREHENSION? WHAT MEETS YOUR EYE IS LESS THAN COULD SATE A FLEA’S HUNGER. BEHIND EVERY SURFACE BRIMS TRUTHS AND REALITIES YOU CANNOT FATHOM.
TP: But what of the bones?
NrMc: I HAVE TOLD YOU.
NrMc: MY MASTER BIDS MY PRESENCE.
TP: But we’re right in the middle of an interview, Mr. Murderclaw!
NrMc: VERY WELL. YOU MAY JOIN ME. ASK YOUR QUESTIONS AS WE TRAVEL.
it was at this point that i understood. the lich took me with him. i felt myself leave my body, and when i was lost from it i felt it die as if by some unknown sense. i felt myself in the presence of the lich, though i could not see or hear or feel. i knew only suffering and an abstract sense of movement. i could not know it the way i know our world, but after what seemed like weeks i knew we had arrived in his realm. i knew. he spoke with his master then, who bid him do awful things, things i shall never repeat. oh god. oh god. oh god. i shall never repeat them, but i will not need to. the rest of the interview as follows took place via a grotesque telepathy on our journey. redacted are my wails. after his master was finished with him (why he did not torture or obliterate me confounds me; could it be that murderclaw protected me from his master?) i felt myself thrust back into my flesh. the lich was gone. the M*A*S*H that had been on in the background while we spoke before our journey indicated that only moments had passed. his reward sat congealing in a paper bag.
NrMc: I HAVE TOLD YOU IN THE PAST, MORTAL, THAT THE DEAD SHALL BE RAISED. THIS IS THE BEGINNING. THE BONES UNEARTHED BY THE WHIPPING AETHER ARE ONLY THE BEGINNING. THE DEAD SHALL BE RAISED. THE LIVING WILL BE BURNT TO CINDER.
TP: Where are we?
NrMc: YOU WOULD NOT LISTEN SO I AM DEMONSTRATING. THE BONES ARE THE BEGINNING ON YOUR PLANE, BUT WE HAVE BEEN PREPARING FOR EONS. MY MASTER SEEKS MY PRESENCE TO MAKE FINAL ARRANGEMENT FOR YOUR WORLD’S END. YOUR WORLD’S END AND THE ASCENDANCE OF MINE. OF OURS.
TP: Who is your master? Is it Satan? The Morningstar?
NrMc: THE MORNINGSTAR IS A FICTION. MY MASTER IS UNKNOWN TO YOU. YOU SHALL KNOW HIM SOON. ALL OF YOUR KIND SHALL KNOW HIM.
TP: See, I’m seeing a contradiction here again. Before you said that linear time is an illusion, that you are as you have always been, and taking that for granted, isn’t your speak of prophecy and imminence a bit moot? If things are as they always have been, aren’t they what they always will be? How can something come to pass if all of time is a singularity? How is it that the dead “shall” be raised? How is it that I “shall” know your master?
NrMc: IF YOU MUST ASK YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND.
TP: Well now that’s a cop-out, as far as I’m concerned.
NrMc: MUST WE PARSE THE NATURE OF TIME WHEN YOURS AND THAT OF YOUR WORLD IS FINISHED?
TP: See now, you’re speaking in linear terms. I’m confused.
NrMc: I SPEAK ONLY IN TERMS YOU WILL UNDERSTAND.
TP: Give me some credit here.
NrMc: THE DEAD SHALL BE RAISED. THIS IS THE BEGINNING. THE BONES UNEARTHED BY THE WHIPPING AETHER ARE ONLY THE BEGINNING. THE DEAD SHALL BE RAISED. THE LIVING WILL BE BURNT TO CINDER. THEN THE CINDER WILL GNASH. THE MASTER IS CLOSE. DO NOT SPEAK. I SHALL RETURN YOU AFTER WE ARE FINISHED. NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN. I DESIRE NOT MY REWARD.
TP: You don’t want your -
NrMc: SILENCE! THE MASTER!
Well, there you have it folks, the “deal” with the Lincoln Oak Bones. Don’t forget to vote on Tuesday.
EDITOR, SEER OF THAT WHICH CANNOT BE UNSEEN