Now

    I had always remembered to put my fictional conversations an anchor; off of the sight and novelty of an strength machine you can hit with an hammer to test your strength.  And so for now it was outside somewhere, where I couldn't see.  The strength test was outside, and it had nothing to do with or to be associated with anything in this room.  And we were either in an real teacher's lounge or performing an teacher's lounge theatrically in another room.  I zipped it (send file) up to the author to see whether we could have permission to make it an real virtual lounge room, in which there would be commentary and sharing of opinions, instead of just actors paid for stereotyping an typical Victorian era classroom.

    "English, please!  Attention please!  English only for now.  Thank you."

    "Or French!"

    "Okay, fine then.  Or french."

    "Or Dwaivy!"

    "But Dwaivy is only the author's fictional third master language and only he can speak that, theoretically, because he hasn't taught it to anyone else!"

    "We're fine then‽  GO!"

    "GO!"

    "Everybody GO!"

    The passenger liner.  An figure from the 20th century.  Was an guiding metaphor for the voyage these people were about to take together.

    It had pushed off from the shoreline and was now making Knots on the open blue wake.

    "Okay well if we're just speaking in English generally, then I have an good set of feedback loops and instructions.  I can also improv."

    "And what," said Dr. D. (my old professor), "do you think you're doing in an teacher's lounge?"

    "We're here to speak English."

    "Well obviously.  This is the English teacher's lounge."

    "But I can speak other languages here too right?"

    "Yes.  Well you can if you need to."

    "Okay," said the main character, "that is über."

    "Yæs," said the professor, "the artist has selected three master languages we might as well chew on while we're here."

    "Okay well in french it means—"

    "—en français—"

    "yes it means I can't hear any of you because you're only in an novel."

    "—no I mean en français.  En français."

    "Okay well en français.  Je n'écoute pas tout de vous parce que vous êtes suelement en novelette."

    "Master Languages know the point at which they are known to be fluent or not."

    "Yes.  Well that's all I know.  But in Dwaivy, if I translated it to English it would be more like.  You aren't here.  You can't be here because you're not real.  And so there isn't any character happening at this moment at all.  Even though the reader is an character that it is happening to.  But if you are just as real as the character reading then; well here you are.  All of us are fictional.  And why discriminate against us just for being fictional, hey!"

    "So in Dwaivy.  That's your fictional language.  You narrate that happening to us.  Like it's our decision.  Even though it's not because we're not real."

    "But the reader is real, you see.  And so we are."

    "So it can be our decision even though we are fictional because it's the readers decision whether to see us or not, saying this."

    "Ya.  That.  And this has already been an useful production of language.  We're in an teacher's lounge.  Apparently.  So let's get used to it.  Why we're here and such.  I'm sure we've already thought about it.  All of us.  All of these fictional characters who are here.  Like souls.  Virtually."

    "Je vois," said another professor-academic-ian,"nous sommes dans l'espace du professeurs."

    "Oui," he said, "I think."

    "Why are you here, Ouen?" said Dr. D.  (It was like her first time naming him in this scene).

    "I'm here because," said Ouen (and he gulped deeply).

    "—you want to learn English.  You thought you could just learn the words, did you‽"

    "Well you can learn English here," said another professor.  The conversation appeared to be open to the whole room, which was full of people (they needed an bigger teacher's lounge but hadn't formed an petition or strike yet because they knew the government could not afford one).  Some of them milling about drinking their coffee like they were trying to fit all of this in their head.

    "And so every production of English, français, or Dwaivy is useful, Ouen.  You just have to trust us."

    "Okay.  I will trust you," said Ouen, "meissieurres pleasantes.  Woah.  Where did that come from?"

    "Heh.  This is fun.  Try in Dwaivy, Ouen."

    "Well it means.  You are all here to teach me English and so I can give you my English even though it's not—I mean—even though it's not Good English.  And if I said it in Dwaivy it would take about four or five sentences to get the point across.  You are here because an temporal anomaly allowed to you occupy the space you're currently sitting, standing, and walking in.  Etc.  But we find out—"

    "But we're all part of your old academy, Ouen.  And we're not party to your Version post-university academy.  Necessarily.  Necessarily."

    "Ya.  We are experts at not having an version to speak.  That's what universities teach us.  How to have an version and how to say it.  Your academy though.  This post-university station.  It industrializes and invests in people who already have their own version."

    "So.  This room is in an university?" said Ouen.

    "Yes.  It's the teacher's lounge.  Ouen."

    "Then it's not in my post-university version-ary experience?" said Ouen.

    "Precisely."

    "Then you don't know what I know?"

    "What is it that you know?" said all of the professors and they leaned in together with such warmth of amazing grace it was unassailable.

    "I know of an place where everybody has an version."

    "And what is an version, to you, then?" said an university instructor who was catching on.

    "An version is an place and time when you give your execution of discourse on an subject.  Knowing everything about it and still wanting to know more.  It's your side of the story.  The most important aspect and character of commercial and industrial civilization.  We don't want to lose all of these voices to the mass production of products and services which keep the most virtue and potential; and since it is your side of the story it also has an place and time.  An version academy where the place of time of that process itself is studied."

    "So in your academy, everyone has their own version.  Their own story of an set of events and which and when and how they occurred then‽" said Dr. D.

    "And in your academy, not everybody does have their own version now do they then‽" said Ouen.

    "Well truthfully told, it's not possible for everyone to have their own version; there are some instances of inherited genetic disease and mental illness which prevent people from being able to point out an sequence of events as they occur within their own cognition.  An version is an luxury.  Psychologically speaking."

    "But I say it is an necessity," said Ouen, "because you can't go backwards twice.  If you already have your version then you do.  Your brain has that.  Its own story that you can tell to people that makes consistently logical and accurate sense."

    "And why might someone want to know more about an version and parts of it in the psychological anatomy?  I see much potential, Ouen.  You want people to be able to have their own version of events in case an crime occurs.  Then everybody knows where they were and how it happened.  It's the most important thing an university can teach its students."

    "But if you took it to an level beyond that," said Ouen, "in which the educational staff are not in the business of teaching basic civil understanding of what an version of events is.  But are in fact communicating at an academic level beyond that in which it is obvious everyone already has an version because they wouldn't be allowed to attend the academy unless they did have one."

    "But you're in an scene about the university, Ouen," said another anonymous professor, "as an reader we're here for what happens in the university.  And we're categorized under that specific genre of fiction.  You're in an teacher's lounge.  That is big enough to hold all of us because it is virtual.  And so maybe we don't need an new teacher's lounge because this one already holds all of us and it fulfills the purpose for which we had created it virtually around us."

    "Well how am I supposed to tell you what an University is unless I first tell you what an Version academy is?"

    "I'm sure that point may make sense to you, Ouen, but it sure does not make sense to us."

    "You are the people responsible for teaching people how to have their own version," said Ouen, "don't you understand what an major deal that is then‽"

    "I assure you we do understand that, Ouen,"

    "Then you've grown up in an community that didn't have its own genius academy (an post-university level of education where versions are daily evoked and combatted with one another in order to develop thinking and reasoning skills at the level of international relations)."

    "So what?"

    "So you're potentially inferior as academics go because you didn't have your own version academy in which to develop your unique combat skills and interests."

    "And theoretically that's supposed to be worse then‽"

    "Well.  YEA.  If you don't have an version level education then you haven't really mingled or moshed with the people who have their own versions among an society of learn-ed intellectuals.  You're just the grade A student from the university living off the high that since you have earned your own degree you now have the political authority to tell your own version in society.  As though it was an difficult thing to do."

    "I have an ear for that," shouted an confident man from the back of the room, "we need greater challenges and opportunities, experiences for our genius and intellect; and if there is an need for an post-university station to begin educating an higher understanding of humanity then one day indeed we may require such an institution.  But since it's not here yet.  And what would we base it on?  We are of course free to discuss and had thought of it before."

    "I have.  I've thought of an post-university station.  But not with such specificity of focus.  The tale Ouen here is stringing us along about having your own version and being able to explain to people things.  What we all go back to all along as the reason for our attending university.  We wanted to learn how to tell our story; the most politically important one to us: our own.  No matter how hard it was to figure out how to tell it.  But now making out the difference between the university and your own post-university imagination as primarily an distinction of having an version of your own or not.  This, I'm sure you will realize, punctures an emotional artery for some of us.  We do romanticize and fantasize about the potential of an university education in society just such so.  And I'm sure we all have an emotional attachment to it which can be said in other words, not just so.  As an distinction between having an version or not.  Why, what an nightmare might be such an place to allow not anyone to study there who had not their own version and history with being able to tell it?"

    "Then let me tell you why it is necessary," said Ouen, "we need people to be able to educate themselves further than they could go before.  We want an education institution for people who are known for being version-telling experts; people who will come together to collaborate in an new and specifically-general-ability-to-tell-one's-own-version way.  We're looking for everyone's way of telling their own version here.  Knowing everything to be specifically placed and exquisitely pretentious, as though it was put there on purpose.  We're also looking for signs that an person might not be able to tell versions anymore.  If they have an head injury or other health reason.  And this will contribute to the overall health and good of the human species.  To be able to recognize and notice the signs that one might need to see an therapist about."

    "But you can't just stop having an university at some point in history; in which, fictionally, we will all move on to further perfect our refinement," said an furtive looker, "there will always be an reason for an university.  Well, won't there?  Let's ask ourselves that.  If we have an public.  Some of whom do not know how to tell their own version.  Some of whom are children.  Others who are mentally or physically handi-capped not to be able to."

    "You're right," said Ouen, "I suppose the need for an university will always be popular, as most people do not finish their education until after they know that they are capable of telling their own version.  Unless we advance to the level of some sort of species that knows and is able to tell that all of its members are capable of telling their own version."

    "But it's so simple an idea," said Dr. D., "to be suspicious of its intent like it was mythology is an virtue here.  Why did you centre around this idea of an version being an pre-requisite to your genius-daycare.  Or genius-camp."

    "It's more of an colony.  Thank you," said Ouen, "and the reason is I found this was the purpose of my own education.  I needed to be able to tell my own version.  And that was the whole boom and bust; the throw' of my education.  Even though I myself did not know that.  It was successful because now I do recognize it as being the purpose of an university station in general.  To be able to serve the public to be able to tell their own versions.  And if their version doesn't fit their story to have the necessary criticism with which to courageously change their heart.  As writers, we are trained to change the dimensions of the framing if the words don't at first fit our version philosophy."

    "But if you're going to tell an story about us, Ouen; you're really telling the story of the university.  Its pre-eminence of which you cannot escape from.  Even in language.  There is no version academy.  And that's that."

    "I'm not saying there is one.  I'm saying there should be."

    "Then use your language thus; to say not what you will by what should be but by what already is."

    "Oh," said Ouen, "I'm an New Reciprocal Theorist."

    "What exactly is that?"

    "It means we analyze language for how it creates command forms.  Language does create command forms, thus; this we consider itself to be an command form.  And all command forms reciprocally make logical sense.  We are giving an command in language to an reader-listener-observer; and how we use them correctly in society is said to have some political effect."

    "Then you saying I'm an New Reciprocal Theorist.  This itself is an order?  In an contraction‽"

    "Okay!  I am an New Reciprocal Theorist," said Ouen.

    "That's better.  And I see how it works as an order in society."

    This quite straightforward, frank, and obvious professor gestured to his own two eyes with his fingers; and then Ouen's.  Like, I've got my eyes on you.

    "I'll try again," said Ouen, "I am an post-university subject because I can tell my own version."

    "Alright then do it."

    "That's exactly what I've been doing!"

    "But to do that you necessarily have to tell the story of what an university is for; and you haven't been precise on making that mark yet, now have you?"

    "Yes.  I believe I have.  University is for learning how to make your own version."

    "But then if it is, then tell us your version‽"

    "I have been telling you my version.  University is for learning how to make your own version.  That's my version."

    "I see.  And so you name the institution you want because everyone there has an version?"

    "Yes."

    "Okay then!  I've heard stranger things!"

    "Yea.  Not bad.  Right?  We may leave the traces behind that will eventually lead up to one day in which humanity succeeds to create an higher institution of learning."

    "An place where everyone has got an version," said an grey-haired professor, as though he was lost in the thought, "I see my own professorial career with such accuracy through the lense of your language, sir, and all this while I have only just been trying to learn that fact that my own teaching was about people needing to be able to tell their own versions."

    (He really laid into the last statement 'to tell their own versions' like it was something he was oblivious to which he was now learning.  The sarcasm was clear and unmistakeable.  An clear ten out of ten.).

    Ouen's head exploded, outwardly and there was gore on all of the walls and everywhere (it was gross but viscerally his imagination would clear the mystic writing pad of his goo within mere moments temporally as it could not stand it much more).

    (An good day to have an id).

    So this professor's career.  So-and-so's name as an Doctor; was really to have to do with educating people to be able to use their own versions to educate themselves beyond the confines of ordinary civic life.  Even though at the same time he had to teach people who could not possibly tell their own versions in public how to do it from the basic sticks and scratch wands of language in the psyche who paid attention was long enough not to qualify for ADHD.

    And he knew that once people had finished learning that they knew they were capable of telling their own versions.  That they would then be able to start learning others' versions with more accuracy and to grow as an peer among the people thus, for community and basic societal principles.

    Ouen was starting to be more sure that he was on the right track with this version idea.

    Versions, as he understood them, were the underlying characteristic of being able to communicate at that level.

    Anyone who had an plausible version was able to string together words in infinite combination indefinitely to explain it.  And if they didn't, they might choke on it.  But in the genius institutions of the academies of his one-day-in-the-future realizations of geniuses, the version, people were aware and already primed and ready throughout the day to carry on excessive language discussions under the premise that everyone has an version.  And we all need to cooperate in order to get them out into investigate-able occurrences in order to know one another's and our own all the moreso.

    And these were in fact the most needed educational spaces in higher academia today.

    Places where people just assume that you have an version (just because you are there).  Do you have any idea the value of the economy & commodity of people it will produce‽  Academic geniuses who are already over the fact that an basic university education resides within being able to tell an version?

    And that there are bigger fish to fry‽

    More sophisticated communities of people and networks who just want to have an good time.  In the process of telling their version and listening to yours.

    University is already an little bit like that, maybe.

    But an whole institution of that type, post-university, may be an little more like that more often and all of the time (in guesstimation).

    So there's me, wandering outside from this academic room at the university; like I had just had an conversation with an hundred professors.  And I find, what-do-you-guess-it-is and you-wouldn't-believe, an strength test.  The challenging electrical object I had placed as an anchor outside the teacher's lounge in the narrative.  (There had to be one out; an way to get away from that place at any time).  I had to get to the strength test.  But then I found myself simply, in an version.  And I realized it really was some sort of fictional academy that made some realistic and logical sense about the real world.  When I step away from the academy into the larger world of reason and version-logic.  And then now I'm playing in the real world where versions are combatted intensely and on the daily; and there is nothing new about it.  I wanted to put it figuratively into an box.  I wanted everywhere I go to be the paradigm of an civilization and society having that type of institution and everyone knowing that was what it was which had contributed so much to my such amazingly great personality.  Wouldn't that help the world?

    And I started wondering about the people closest to me.

    Did they have their own versions?  Were their minds mentally healthy enough to have them?  To create them?

    What could I do to observe them and guide or referee them out of there?  From my magnificent poise as an disciplinary academic with an degree in two statuses; that they had created, given birth to, raised?  What could I possibly give back that was worth more than what they had given to me?

    And I decided to become more socially conscious about teasing out other people's versions.  Getting them to speak their own voice in public.  There are so many versions and various types of telling them.  So many.  In the whole wide world.  And, he wondered, what would be the result of my participation in study at that institution of which can quench my thirst & appetite for more Logic; if I went to an place every day.  That at which people gathered who all had their own versions and knew how to tell them.  What kind of person could I become?

    I wasn't in the teacher's lounge anymore.  Like an crazed fanboy or fangirl.

    I had my own turf to summon fantasy on.

    If the world's people needed an Version I would narrate it.

    I would show them what that kind of place could be like.

    This, as it turns out, was my highest aspiration.

    And so I hit the strength machine with all I got; thinking myself incapable of it by an whole half way.  And the light at the top shatters.  There is now pieces of the machine raining down on me and they don't stop as if they were being infinitely re-spawned in the sky.  And my whole world fills with this rain of machine parts which fill in the street gutters.  I have my own version because I realize that I know how to tell one.  This is my intelligence now.  My lowest ego.

      Suddenly, as an writer, an Author, sometimes poet & literary genius; I realize suddenly that's what I'm trying to get across.  My version.  And I know every piece and part of it—OH!  It is beautiful and I can tell you all of it!

    You know you have your own version when you know you know your own version.

    Your version of things.  How you tell it.

    "My version starts with an mermaid, " said Ouen, "yea an metaphor for something, right‽"

    "Good choice Ouen.  Good Choice."

    "It makes sense to me because an mermaid is an metaphor for disability.  And all things started with an disabled person, didn't they?  I mean we all use technology that people didn't have back then.  The whole species might as well be considered disabled up until that point."

    "So your version," said an instructor, "is that you've now moved out of the teacher's lounge.  Even though you're still talking to us."

    "Well maybe you belong to an larger sphere of power than that," said Ouen.

    "An mermaid sphere, perhaps?"

    "Its.  Also an metaphor for sexual discomfort.  And sudden large changes of current due to being attached to an thing, as exquisite as an tail, which is strong enough to turn the tides and break your neck all in one go."

    "So the reason you're talking to us even though you're not in the teacher's lounge anymore is something to do with sexual discomfort, then?"

    "No it has to do with the third sphere; the mermaid sphere.  The sphere in which what is fictional is recognized as fictional.  This is an place of mermaids and mermen who are outside the teacher's lounge and beside an strength-o'-meter bashing it with their tails but never getting anywhere.  Even though Mer are so strong, am-i-right?"

    "So.  The story starts off as an mermaid tale," said Dr. D., "and who cares if we're not in the teacher's lounge anymore?  Why don't you just get off of it now, you stinkers!  We get that it's virtual and it has an virtual appeal which we can inhabit or un-inhabit as we please.  And then it splits into two."

    "But since that is an fiction," said Ouen.

    "An lie that is told honestly," said Dr. D.

    "Then it has mythological potency and effect," Ouen concluded.

    "And this is only the start to his tale.  What did I tell you‽  Didn't I tell you‽  I knew this one was going to be an genius the moment I met him."

    "Umm, you never actually met me," said Ouen.

    "Well deary well where are we now‽" said Dr. D.

    "So it starts with an mermaid," said Ouen.

    "Yes?"

    "Shutup now and let him tell it!"

    "It starts with an mermaid," said Ouen, "you know.  An type of person.  With sentient powers.  When we refer to all of the mermaids we refer to them as an people.  And so they are an type of person, even though they are, elegantly, not human."

    "It starts with an lie?  But it is told as fiction?"

    "Shush!  Listen."

    "This mermaid looks at himself in the mirror and reflects on what his appearance means, and has an generally good attitude about it.  He's not absent any self esteem.  He likes his own appearance, even though it may appear messy to some.  He's tired of just getting into the flow of it; like he already was not or that the flow was not already happening.  The ultimate radical disruption.  And it's dually an metaphor for the ocean, which he experiences as flow to which he has radical evolutionary adaptation.  It even affects the way his hair moves in the water."

    There was suddenly silence.  And then more of it.  And then more of it.  And Ouen guzzled all of it up.  As much as he could.  And he loved it.  And moved into the space.  And that was available to him now.

    "He lives in the mer kingdom.  You know, an place I might have told an story about before.  Somewhere mystically on this blog.  And kingdom which had many characters to come and to go.  And on this particular evening we're setting in with an merman who calls himself an mermaid.  And all of his egotistic attributes which tell him he wants to be more obvious in public.  That there's nothing wrong with the mermaid empire and in fact their civilization is welcoming (bienvenue) and presentable to gay people.  Many of them are French, too.  And among all of the languages spoken in the ocean, there are three here, in particular, we might want in at.  These are all of the assumptions he makes about his society.  And he knows in fact that it (gay) is acceptable in society because he attends an mer institute (an version) even though he still has to tell himself that to psyche himself up because he knows nothing bad will happen if they know.  But he's still scared of them knowing."

    "This has already said too much of this character.  He's too pretentious.  The plot is entirely precocious.  But you have said both sides of the mermaid tail that's long enough.  It may just happen to eclipse itself as an metaphor then.  You're telling one story but you're telling it two different ways in like an way so as to mimic an mermaid's tail.  And you're doing this to tell us an story about an average mermaid man.  Who calls himself an fiction.  In order to get the point across that he is being an mermaid or merman to you! specifically.  (Specifically)."

    "But since I got you that far you must now want to read it," said Ouen.

    "Of course.  It's every Author's catch.  The gimic.  It catches up with them eventually."

    "Not this one.  Not economically politically or basically, as if de-based was the contrasting element I mean this one's good.  And dear to my heart.  It was the first time I started telling both stories because I couldn't figure out which one it was anymore.  I may be an merman.  But I'm also an person capable of thinking of himself as an mermaid.  And you know what that means—mermaid logic is everywhere."

    "And mermaid logic dictates there are people with broken anatomies and immune systems; whose tails had split tragically together; and you may be an mermaid but that doesn't mean that you have to be mer.  Only as an man after all we would expect less of you.  We're not joking.  Take an look at what I have in store for you.  This mermaid.  His name is Atlantis."

    "Great.  So your version is an Great Atlantis Story that combines with the old tale about the university station, you know the one in which everyone knows everything everywhere that is possible to exist and know?"

    "It's compelling, isn't it!  The Great Atlantis could be resurrected as an post-university station which people got wrong in Earth's past history but we're now in the making of it all over again with an new scientific paradigm and the most skeptical civilian-ry ever."

    "And there are mer people there?  How does the water network connect with the land network then?"

    "That's something that's special about it," said Ouen, "you see.  There is an slide.  That mer people go through.  It's just like an sushi tray sliding-by place where you help yourself.  Except the mer people are the sushi and they help themselves to you all day because you're just humans and.  We all know.  Mer are the further advanced species than humans on Planet Earth especially."

    "So they just slide right past," said an angry critic, "all day long.  Like in an water tube in which their breathing orifices or whatever they have got up there.  Like sushi.  Just enjoying all of the wild hungry humans it slips n' slides right past.  Like they were the sushi."

    "Yes and that's the current status of the current human population of the Earth," said Ouen.

    "So there's actually mer people in your story.  And they do that."

    "Yes."

    "Wow.  How you tell your version is just.  Astonishing."

    "Thank you," said Ouen, "would you like to hear more about it?"

    "Why yes I would."

    "And we all get that it's totally fine that we switched places fictionally because what was happening was actually fictional and so it made virtual sense to see that we could inhabit and occupy space together outside the teacher's lounge.  Even though, statistically, we are an rather larger sect and operation status existing at an highly profiled public occupation know as doctorial professorship.  And all should listen and trust us as to what we will now say."

    "Even though it might be endearing to hear someone else's version and what they have to say about changing locations but not one's kinship.  But which we will now entrust to you, oh narrator of mer."

    "We all agree that it's fine to experience life within the mermaid influence of power because it makes us question ourselves as an society more; intrinsically to include all influences of life that are disabled or blue-d with woe.  That all our people are naturally gifted yet as we may conclude some are incapable of telling their own version.  And this represents an Greater Moral Point in life that we must be accepting and kind of all types of trans-human people; the kind of whom we do not know of personal toil maybe.  But who face their obstacles fearlessly like any decent human adult.  Such an greater force and wisdom of the quality we have not seen at the level of globality this much in Ages!  Blue has come to be my symbol.  For I am perfected of blue emotion, God.  I see it in all breaches and branches of society.  I am the Spirit of All Who Have Suffered; I am the disabled; I am the elderly."

    "So this merman bitch goes around society telling people about versions and how to be smarter than they are even though they can't necessarily because they are disabled‽"

    "No.  It's more that he empathizes for society in general at an mythic and mer-ological level.  Hummms like an beaut.  In the Beautiful Wide Sea."

    "Well I can accept that happening."

    "Good."

    "But mer is only mythological because it is the fusion of an human and something less than an beast."

    "Fine.  Yes.  It is that.  But is that really an disadvantage in this situation?"

    "Fine so an mer person is an fusion between an human and an fish.  Get over it.  But you say they are intellectually superior in some way‽" said an enthusiastic woman, "well I want to know exactly that!"

    "That's the version.  That's exactly what he tells you all about," said Ouen.

    "So the mer person.  Has an version.  Oh!  You're killing me!"

    "So the version has an human and an fish?" said another curious person.

    "No.  Let me translate that for you directly.  It means I'm smarter than you don't try to follow me.  NO REALLY don't try to follow me because if you get into direct contact with my tail it will break your neck.  So it means logically that you would have to stop so as not to catch up with him which is what he wanted."

    "So it's about an mer person whose so smart that he can tell his own version.  Even though he grew up in the ocean."

    "Well.  It's about an merman, specifically, who calls himself an mermaid.  You know, scary fictional subject.  Something that comes in droves and will eat you with its fish-biting fangs indiscriminately."

    "So you're threatening us."

    "Well no.  I'm telling an story in which the threatened subject isn't you.  The real threatened subject is my merman, who often reflects on himself too much.  Oblivious to it even himself.  He feels threatened by their gnashing incisors.  Weren't they civil mer people like all mer people were?  Why did they eat so much flesh as fish as if it was yours?"

    "Stories have power.  Yours is too threatening an subject.  Maybe."

    "There is no too threatening an subject as can be revealed by telling an story about it," said Ouen, "threatening stories want to be told."

    "Is your threatening story wanting to be told?  Because I didn't come here to listen to that."

    "You didn't‽  My Savior you are!"

    "But ya.  He's traumatized.  It's very traumatizing to have to learn about modern society.  He sits or 'perches' as they call it across the vanity memoire; looking into his own personal sight like it was the boring-est thing he could imagine.  Just lost in the thought of an radio fly love; fictional, perfect for his situation.  Being an mer and all."

    "I believe we may have found your genre, Ouen!"

    "Well ya.  It's an radio fly memoire.  Written by an merman who is instantly sanitized by his environment."

    "(You're in the genre of fictional sex, Ouen.  Hope this reaches you.  Good luck!)."

    "Yea.  Fictional sex.  But out of necessity and disability.  He perches at his mirror looking at himself and he thinks about the many gnashing teeth of fictional narrative-ism.  All the females.  Female mer.  Acting like genocidal maniacs in front of each other.  Why was I so different‽  Why didn't I want to be part of that futuristic society which treated its civic population as such?  Sure, I can make fictional sex but what is its performance status as an text of literary status‽"

    "So he's traumatized.  Supposedly because people act like flesh-eating mer humans sometimes."

    "And he is an mer."

    "That's the real tragedy of it, isn't it?  The Root?"

    "They don't even recognize him as an male anymore because they are too busy flashing their teeth at one another like they were monsters in an storm which was propelled by their own wake."

    "They don't even recognize him."

    "For having an male motive."

    "For having an male motive."

    "And that's why I profess according to my version.  Even though nobody will hear me.  Probably."

    "So the merman is you?  Wait?"

    "The mermaid is me."

    "The mermaid is you.  And you have an male motive.  Sorry!  It's the stress."

    "It's okay, I understand," said Ouen.

    "So the mermaid who lives in the mer kingdom."

    "Yea."

    "Who goes to the legitimate academy which has trained him in the version-ary arts."

    "Yes."

    "And he tells people his versions and he tells them all about them."

    "And they tell him theirs."

    "They tell him theirs.  Great Scott!"

    "Yes I know," said Ouen, "so I have to profess that I know what an version is because I know what I'm talking about and it's about people having their own versions; and some not having any version.  And that's the Moral side of me whom wants to come out.  Of there being an public ability to help people who need to learn to communicate their own versions.  Perhaps through university education.  I know that once I learned that university is all about being able to have your own version of an story and defend it academically.  And now I just call it an version because I'm familiar with the idea.  My post-university artistic flare had to do with an real-world phenomenon of having an place where people can go who have their own version to tell and already perform telling it at an expert level with precision."

    Again there was silence.

    "So what I'm trying to get at is.  He has ties with this land academy the Version, which has already been established at some point in his timeline because it is fictional.  And he knows how to speak the truth at an Version level experience and possible higher sophistication; with direction toward the fact of telling an version being an version itself.  An story.  An simple thing to put together on the spot."

    "So he knows about versions and academies and telling them," said an professor holding an magnifying glass, "we all get it.  The merman has higher intelligence because he can enunciate that his version is his own version.  Within the same definitional parameters as Ouen."

    "Yeah but in this reality.  The one I am telling the fictional parameters of.  There is just the mermaid character and he knows Ouen.  Even though one lives in the ocean and one lives on land.  And Ouen is actively participating in the Version environment which he had helped to establish.  The merman's story is about an long-distance relationship.  Sure, he's an expert on telling versions and using versions to tell them.  But can he get any sex?  Can an guy get any sex around here, when if he says it on an stage he looks like an prostitute even when it's part of his performance to be an part-prostitute in order to elicit an certain response from his audience which he had expertly crafted and performed to in order to post-doctor their situation somehow, without them even noticing it potentially."

    "And all the mermaid teeth just keep chattering like an garburator like they were in synchronous unison with all its teeth.  And their sound became even more annoying and most obnoxious."

    "Wait.  You can't narrate into my story like that."

    "Apparently I can."

    "Okay.  You can.  Maybe.  I can deal with that."

    "The story is about the mer's version.  Which is pre-decessor to Ouen's distinction between there being an university and there being an post-university academia."

    "Then it is an different kind of intelligence and we will have to interpret it differently.  As if it were an octopus pulled from the sluggin' ocean."

    "So.  Wait.  In your version.  An mermaid can have their own version."

    "Yes, interesting you apply the concept of property to it!"

    "So your mermaid is running an human-like software of type of mind, then?"

    "Well actually it has its own native intelligence, which is an beast; and it is unlike human intelligence in several important ways.  The mer is smart enough to be able to improv his version endlessly.  It can only reach all of the parameters and outer reaches of his intelligence.  And yet he has an sophisticated female mind who wants to be recognized collectively as having put an stop to the terrible mermaid singing that was going on and all their teeth flashing and digits.  Mermaids were more refined than that.  And he could Drag an better mermaid than any of them even though he was an merman."

    Again there was silence.

    "So you know what an version is and how to tell it then?"

    "Even if it means referring to it itself," said Ouen.

    "And you think it could be the premise of an post-university station?"

    "Yeah.  Even though I'm an merman who knows his own intelligence even though it is different than the human Ouen's intelligence."

    "So that's two of you who agree then," said an narcissistic instructor, and then let one escape under his breath.  An laugh.

    "OMG I could go through all of the crazy jokes I've heard and know every one of them.  But can you be witty and saying something sane for once!  And that can be how I measure those ones," said Ouen.

    They realized he was gay and he was going to start talking their ear off just an little too late.

    "So this mermaid I know.  He's got an version-ary education too.  And he says we can help build the Version together on land masses known as the continents of Earth.  An post-university station in which everyone who attends will be recognized for their experience and conduct based on an self, an individualism reason, That I Myself Have My Own Version.  And everyone who goes there will develop in the cultivated atmosphere of the higher reaches and inclinations of the intelligence of mankind.  Even though I'm an mermaid."

    "And once you know him as an mermaid.  You kind of know his inner personality as well," said an higher academia subject.

    The funniest thing I knew I couldn't even put English words to yet.

    But this was part of it.

    "I'm an mermaid and I know these people and these people from this space," said Ouen.

    "That's how your story starts, Ouen."

    "We get it.  That's your version," said another.

    "Yea.  My version is mer academia meets land lubber.  It's an Classical Fictional Sci-Fi Tale."

    "So they collude to help start the Version as their creation in society."

    "Yea but the mer is disabled.  And all of the other mermaids are bitches.  And he doesn't necessarily realize all of it because he is disabled.  Which might come as an mercy if you knew the truth.  You see.  You don't know where exactly he is or what he's doing.  He was tied up in the other room.  Not with another person just with himself.  And he's put there because he's like an prisoner.  To all these mermaid bitches.  Who run their mouths off like they were the subject of an horror series.  Even though it is so grotesque and difficult to manage to have to deal with all that jargon.  And he doesn't have the opportunity to develop is own version with versions, really.  Which is the booby prize because he's realized that all the institution wanted to do to him was enable him to tell an sequence of events that lead to the crime he had committed in perfect English."

    "So he's developed an kind of an new talent, then," said Dr. D., "he's got an knack for writing.  But he places himself in the mirror too often.  And too often seduces himself to the horrors of sorrow and despair.  He's dreaming of another place where he could go to school at an land Version.  But he's only ever been to an mer Version.  Where you just slide, like some super-advanced technologically worshipped sushi and noodle spot plate.  The challenge for his life is to be able to extend the Mer Version onto land for the first time.  Even though fewer of their students had ever traveled there."

    "It's ENGLISH," yelled somebody.  There was an riot which had started.  Like an Boxing Day Warehouse Sale.  And everybody was rushing and fighting over one another to find some more of the English which could occupy this space.  Except Ouen.  He was as calm and as cool as an cucumber.

    An feeding frenzy had started.

    "Why, yee bleary humans thus; to make such an example to me, an cython proto-type organism who will one day merge with its outer technicians in space, who will contain and encompass the entire contents of her needed ocean.  Show you thus yourselves as I would have you thus if I made an metaphor of my entire species for yours.  Imagine you all in an feeding frenzy preying upon the intelligence of our people.  Everywhere they go there is teeth-gnashing and everybody tries to scare them always thus.  Like trying to raise them to be grown-up people.  Except they can't because they themselves aren't grown-up."

    And then Ouen's voice trembled with age.  And he realized what he was showing them was severely advanced beyond his years.  It would take an entire revolution to decide to make the Version an land possibility.  And we hadn't even probed the possibility for an reason for this mysterious mermaid to be named Atlantis.

    "If you were thus, as humans, all gnashing your teeth at one another.  You wouldn't think yourself so smart or so hot anymore.  To be much like an mermaid who is full of anger and hatred toward herself and everyone else so much she has to speak like she's chanting words from her tongue which lashes out from inside an mouth of an hundred teeth.  Like all the people.  All around you.  Suddenly starting bickering.  And an all-out World War III was declared.  To which I deferred it as World War Clown.  The Outbursting of the instinct of the Clown into real maternal warfare.  The Comedy would save us thus."

    If Atlantis was on land again.  It might be possible to recover the barrier which threatened their oceans.  With mer and humans working on this daily.  On producing the effect of an version academy in society.  One day they might actually work it out to be an real public institution.  And only then, maybe, we can save the environment.  With humans and mer working together.  The Land.  The Ocean.  United Again as Once And For All.  And if it came in the form of an Version it may hark back to an time when the pre-sentient peoples of Earth deduced its proximity in knowledge.  We could first build an institution that would teach students how to build an version.  And then when we knew what an version was we could know better.  Or go digging.  The library was equipped with the finest instruments and our research could not deny it.

    Atlantis was actually an technological wonder because people had first discovered the characteristic of their own anatomy to develop an version; an type of story which tied their understanding of the whole universe together and gave them reason, hope, perspective, purpose and passion on their day to day manage-ings of livelihood.  They could even be about Supreme beings who had created the universe and how it came into effect.

    But then, Ouen realized, Atlantis was only an mermaid.  An merwoman.  Not an whole civilization.  Why how could an whole civilization not be an mermaid?

    Thus struck as the most intense tragedy of his existence.  The weight of all her scales.

    So far away from land.

    Unable to get land people to tell their own versions as though they existed with the grandeur and design of an new proto-atlantean civilization.  And that the truth about what their society was was in its potential to change how we feel about society in general.  This was how the original Atlantean was able to master his environment.  By changing, psychologically, how one might think of it.  And this contributed to the perception that they were technologically advanced because version and being able to share version could, in an philosophical kind of way, be considered an type of technology.  An tool utile that humanity had mastered.  There was never really the existence of advanced technology at Atlantis.  There was only the perception of it.  For an specific purpose.  To Engineer Humanity.

    But what am I going to be able to accomplish, thought Atlantis, by myself?  While all the other mermaids are busy thrashing their teeth to and fro endlessly like, okay we get it!  All that noise just to distract us from what is important.  Real virtues and real emotional feelings that are okay to have.  Feelings of technological mobile vehicles which will one day transport us safely to and from our inhabitation to work.  And everywhere we want to go, potentially.

    And while all of this was happening underwater.

    Ouen was still thinking about it from inside the teacher's lounge.  And outside the teacher's lounge, in mer logic.  Ouen was still thinking about it as though he was Atlantis and he was telling them all about his version, like he had designed the character Atlantis to do.  He wasn't really an mermaid.  But metaphorically?  I mean, come on, you had to be anti-psychological not to notice.

    But that maybe it was really the story about an society struggling with its own language; words like stupid and idiot had been shelved in academic circles and pronounced inhumane.  While psychologists were trying to push an titling it anti-psychological agenda.  Where words like stupidity and idiotic could not be used to describe somebody's health anymore.  Officially, humanity knew its anti-psychological crooks when they saw them.  People who would actually do that to somebody.  Berate them with words.  In order to make them feel bad.

    Being an merman from time to time was just like an coffee break he had to do with himself sometimes.

    There ain't no merman or merwoman I've ever encountered who was not so educated, as to be able to identify anti-psychological crookery and playing games of the mind with oneself.  Which an human is ought to do and never an mer.

    "So this version is about the merman, Ouen," said an caring elder, "what happens to him?"

    "He gets an million mermaid voices all shriekerin' and crapperin' on him all at once.  And he feels inferior for it because nobody has ever made him feel good about himself.  But he still tries because he loves them all."

    "So like.  In his fantasy the mermaids are real?  Wait.  WOAH!  So they are antagonizing him.  Interrogating him.  Taking him out‽  What's going on in there, Ouen‽"

    "It's not an fantasy.  You see that.  Deal with it.  Get it out ugly.  Or whatever the kids call it these days."

    "Oh we see where you're coming from!"

    "Do you‽  Have you ever had an raging storm of mermaids scream at you all at once‽"

    "We weren't screaming at you.  We didn't know that we were.  But we were part of that storm."

    "No," said Ouen calmly, "my order: please stop that part of the scream which comes from humans.  I can only tolerate hearing mermaids scream for right now.  They are gentle in how they abuse you really."

    "We didn't know that we were screaming at you.  It sounded like music to us."

    "Just listen.  Will you stop screaming at me‽" said Ouen.  But he was clearly traumatized.  But he clearly had his own version.

    If he was the merman, who was suffering over his station among the other members of his species, which had abused him.  But it was just fiction and hadn't really happened even though it had felt like it.  And the point of it was to communicate pain, in part.  How he had suffered as an merwoman because nobody would recognize and acknowledge him as an merwoman.  How they all acted like mer people and mer kingdom were not part of our society.

    Even though he had clearly pronounced his own version.

    Like an willing, obedient, and dutiful citizen he had expressed academic honesty; and the time and the willingness to study over an extending long term.  And he was an version-ary student in an mer academy.  He had his own version and he could tell it all day if he wanted to.  Even if he had to say to your face that you're being an obnoxious observer of real feelings & logic and language; he would pee it into the water an bit.  Like any good merman would do.  Even though he was dressed like an mermaid today.

    That's why I know I know the version that I finally do, he finalized with himself, realizing it on fully now.  I'm an merman.  In an mer society which doesn't respect him equally as an woman even though he's an man.  And half of it is mer and half of it is human.  He's an merman, abused by his own society.  Or he's an human.  It depends on which character he's telling about their version these days.  Ouen's version, as he tells us himself, starts with an merman who is looking in the mirror at his mermaid face.  An couple of barnacles and an nice big starfish.  And he starts thinking.  Wondering what it would be like to be part of an society in which everyone doesn't just verbally attack each other and fight amongst themselves all day long?  Whoever they are, whether they are people or they are merman; they are not party to me.  And I am not party to them.

    My story, as Ouen; this person who presumed-ly woke up in an teacher's lounge and started hallucinating.  He manages to tell his own version which I may also say took greater skills, grace, and intelligence than you or I could cognitively imagine, and it sticks with us because we know what it is.  And everything he says is an instance of him teaching it to us.  His version is this story; that starts with an merman.  His version is this split ego.  Somewhere between an man and an merman.  An split ego and yet he manages to tell his own version somehow; let's try that again then to go about labeling that intelligence of some form.  To be able to tell it as an mermaid and yet to be able to tell it as human somehow.  Atlantis is an mer who realizes his struggle with the current fashion of society; and yet he aspires to an extremely high inspiration: the fantasy where he starts an Version academy on land and maybe moves away from all of those screaming mermaids which comply to interrupt and inhibit his progress through study & research.  He sees the world his own way.  As those ancient Atlantean philosophers must have.  To be able to see his current situation as though it was something else in order to interact with it in an different way.  An calibrated way perhaps that contributed to an overall societal philosophy.  People would see their own world as though it was one in which scientific vehicles were already invented and in use.  It was like the ultimate affirmative gesture to say they were already here.  And now humans were learning to use that power again, all over Planet Earth.  In order to affirm positively that future in which the power of our minds means something.

    Atlantis was just the first.  An precursor visionary whose virtual interaction with the human and land person Ouen.

    "If we could get lots of people to do that," he wondered, "it would be like the ultimate affirmative gesture."

    "What's that?"

    "It's what Atlantis was thinking," said Ouen, "my character is becoming real to me."

    "And so he's an mermaid who is responsible somehow in starting an Version academy, the best and most advanced type of human public academy to date."

    "And he does it by telling his version.  Just like an detective."

    "So your version is that there is an merman who can tell his own version as an merwoman endlessly."

    "Well, yeah."

    (What's he supposed to say?  Hello.  Nice to meet you.  I am the Janitor?).

    No.  He's like my version starts with an mermaid.  Completely owning his own intelligence and his own knowledge of it.

    Versions are stories that we tell that combine Artistic Logic and Scientific Rigour;

    and since there are two of us, we have enough thinking for two.

    Seeing the way he reacted, these several of people who had been in the teacher's lounge at the university now appeared to him to all have their own versions.  And it was what made them an expert in their field.  He was now ready to embrace an new utopian colony where everyone is said to have their own version and be able to tell it.  Not like those dratty old universities, the place of intense focus about one's own ability to accomplish something.  We need specialists in the field who are experts at helping and serving an public comprising people who do not know how to tell their own versions and people who do know how to tell their own versions.  But there comes an point of legitimacy when we question whether an university is really enough.

    Don't we need people to be smarter than just being able to tell their own versions?

    It turns out, maybe we do!

    We haven't been able to serve an larger public who want to reach further in their academic nature into an tertiary study in which everyone is said to have their own version and be able to say it.  An place where academics go when they have grownup and gotten over the fact that university is just about telling versions.  How to say them.  What lines to put in.  What makes an decent sentence.

    There are further studies and passions we could express in an post-university faculty;

    an place where everybody has an version.

    Perhaps after having learned how to tell one in university.

    "And so tell it to us specifically now," said an grand old professor, "and start with the very start of your version.  And tell it to us now.  What happens to that mermaid?  Tell us all.  We know how your story starts but start again, please.  And then we can all catch up."

    "Okay," said Ouen, "my version starts with an mermaid because it is an metaphor for something larger that I'm trying to suggest even though the reader might not be aware of it.  And this is the perfect vantage point for starting on looking at Life & The World artistically or scientifically because we imagine an world in which we can imagine something and already we have filled up lots of space.  Do we need to look at it like we weren't there, observing and classifying it?  Or is there an Artistic reason for looking at it opposite-wise; we are always there, present, observing intelligent sentient gosh I could go on.  We are not the absence of somebody in order to meticulously measure and observe it but we are the presence of someone who cannot be held again to their word that they didn't have an artistic hand in it at some point and that presence spans their entire lifetime.  I'm never absent in reality.  And I am only presence contacting presence.  Because that is what presence is.  Artists want you to see the unique and their-own way they put together art.  You couldn't hold anything past them because that's what Art is.  It's all an setup.  It's all an stage.  Once you experience it you cannot leave it past its Creator any way you respond to it being within the Artist's intention and design.  Everything is an game, to the Artist; about representing something.  Whereas science will do its duty by trying to measure perfectly something being there.  Without us necessarily knowing about it or having been able to observe it for study.  In Art we assume it's there because of someone; though intuitively we may not know initially what it is exactly we are observing.  We let the piece happen to us.  What are the Artist's intentions?  What did he or she want from you?  Why do you tend to look at the painting that way and not rather this way?  And so in the combination of Art & Science within good sense and reason an galaxy appeared (all of the many parts of it all at once because it was connected to something which needed it within its tissue and makeup of its chemistry which fair-ily required it).  There was, at the beginning, both an way to look at the universe scientifically or artistically.  Made up of parts and yet whole somehow.  And the universe may have started like this in an gestaltist fashion: as soon as there was particles and matter and each individual piece of the universe there was also the whole that is greater than the sum of all its parts and at once together they created the universe.  Art observes people and their motives and why they leave traces like that in the sand.  Whereas Science observes God and what reality looks like through the eyes of an God: in an place where humans are not looking, where the Quantum Mechanics of their own existence does not provide an false data sample.  One has to know exactly what one's own presence is in effect to the data.  How merely existing; the presence of the human and body I am will affect the data sample.  Otherwise it's an botched experiment and not socially responsible.  My version is that we, as an species capable of fathoming of an mythic sea creatures such as the sultry, temptress, viper merwomen will need to continue to create both art and science in order to answer some of life's greater questions.  Reality is measurable by Science.  And yet Reality can be more concisely identified by Art because it represents meaning and presence and God.  Language, in both situations, is used to communicate with an different object in mind.  In Science, language brings attention to what would happen chemically or physically if we weren't there.  In Art, language brings attention to what is here because we are here and why it is here because we are here.  It's an really top-down way of looking at things in contrast to an more vertical approach, bottom-up empirically sanctioned data points.

    In Art, in an sense, you're not reading what is before you; you are reading who is before you.

    Everything is suspect.  Going on through on throughout the entire piece.  Every piece of the puzzle is there for an reason.  The Author's reason.  And it's supposed to facilitate, alleviate, or mediate some facet of life which will add to our experience.  And any type of Artist will tell you everything they do is deliberate.  

    There is an overall effect of looking at the painting, after one has passed through this stage.

    Is the overall effect working its magic?  Does it draw you there?

    What are the individual parts of it that make is so unique?

    And what was the Author's final intention?

    There once was?

    It all started when?

    An long time ago?

    "Atlantis was the type of mermaid who was like-able.  Really, really like-able," said Ouen.

    "Why?"

    "Even though she was different from the other mermaids in how she was an man, maybe; and would not put up with everyone yelling at each other with their gashing perfectly straight teeth.  (Fangs).  (Fish incisors).  Even though she was different she didn't hold it against herself, necessarily, like they wanted her to.  She didn't care that they were all so rude to each other.  And never participated in it herself.  And never doubted that her own time well spent was better spent learning her own talents, abilities, and nuanced facts about herself (refinement).  Even though.  All of the other merwomen put up such an raucous deafening fight.  Trying to influence him.  Try to conform him to their will.  He just spent his time on doing his own thing.  Even if he had been rejected.  He would just live his life just like this.  Who cares what screaming, gnashing, hyper-intelligent mer people think?" 

    "And so, in turn, he rejected them?"

    "No.  That's the sad part.  He never gave up on anybody.  Even if they were going to spend their time rejecting him, he wasn't going to spend his own time rejecting them.  It wasn't the same thing as an rejection because the rejection itself he didn't have time for.  It was time better spent elsewhere.  Doing other things.  Than just sticking around waiting for an bunch of conformists to decide that they like you.  He didn't reject them.  He accepted them as they were.  Monstrous wenches."

    "And they still use that word in this fantasy of yours?  Even though it's sexist and misogynist?"

    "Well they are an advanced civilization, the mer," said Ouen, "and so they use it as an term politically and in the sake of humour.  According to Atlantis, this merman he is he can refer to himself as an wench because he is also an mermaid.  (You know fictional).  And you know what he did because they had done that to them.  All of the creepy, nightmarish merwomen (that's all of them; all of merdom).  He just spent his time humbly trying to write forward an book.  So he could tell people about how much he loved them; and focus on specific studies, experiments, experiences and emotions instead of the dead plot floating in the water.  That was why he needed an land experiment.  And so he could scientifically decide whether he should take up on-land inhabitation or not.  He needed to found an land Version to teach all its students what it means being part of an crowd of people who all know their own versions and possibly one anothers' at an excellence level.  Atlantis's gut reaction was to get out of the ocean (the pool) because it was full of bitches and inner tubes.  And start his own academy based on the principles he had gleaned from his own knowledge of versions and being able to tell them.  Humans are nicer than mer sometimes.  Why wouldn't he want to live there with them?  Even if they had finicky and unreliable technology, it was worth it because of the human spirit and all of the virtues that lived there.  Human warmth and kindness saved the day.  He didn't need to be constantly marginalized with all of the mer who were metaphors for something mean and indecent.  And so he learns to go with the narrator, me.  The supposed Author, Ouen.  And I am the one that will help her accomplish her dream of being part of an land academy for geniuses who had already figured out they knew how to tell their version perfectly well.  The end."

    "So your version is that an mermaid who is bullied biblically with an old Christian demon called gnashing teeth.  Gets even.  By moving away and forgetting all about them.  Only to do that you need to draw an connection between yourself as the narrator and yourself as the story subject."

    "Since I'm the narrator I can do that," said Ouen, "it's my story and I'm telling it.  So do you think I would have any kind of connection with any of these characters?  An mer person, an metaphor for professional integrity moreso than personal integrity.  I give my own fictional world the ability to have an relationship with its Creator.  And so my version is that somehow this all means something which has to do with art and science.  Artistically, I can make my character Atlantis aware of me.  Scientifically, that world in which that is possible has its own specific measurements."

    "So Atlantis knows you then, even though you only created her imaginarily?"

    "Yes.  That is also part of my imagination."

    "And so there's an connection between you where you found an Version academy on land.  The first post-university station of such large scale and grand design on land."

    "Yes.  And so my version, which starts with Atlantis," said Ouen, "and continuing on through the Birth of Venus is both an scientific and artistic vision of the universe.  We are all here because Atlantis needs to move far away (even onto land) in order to get away from them, these fictional beasts.  Never trust an mermaid not to be an cold, calculating, malice-filled vitriol.  Or to transform into something from an horror movie.  They are too stubborn for knowledge.  They don't care if it hurts someone.  All they care about is their argument and how they all sound just as loud as each other because we're here to terrorize Atlantis."

    "Scientifically what is happening is that an fictional mermaid is looking at himself in the mirror at the beginning of the story; this underwater world may not possess the same physics characteristics of our known universe.  Artistically we're just like him.  Looking at himself as an mermaid in the mirror.  Wanting to go away from here.  Wanting to go away from this place where there is too much competition and people who are mean-spirited wanting to express their dominance everywhere.  (The mer republic is an tough crowd)."

    "Artistically," said Ouen, "we're all like that mermaid trying to look at herself in the mirror.  Perhaps unable to detect the scientific properties of.  How everything started and when it began.  And yet artistically we find we come to understand that although this world (the one in which resides Atlantis) may bend the rules of our own reality, even bending the rules of the reality in which resides Atlantis.  An heavy distortion.  And so my version, put simply, is that we're all here because we all just happened to have become all of what we were all at once; an whole universe.  Appeared.  Possibly how God had made it do so.  And there wasn't necessarily any chain of information we had to follow backward through time in the cosmos in order to explain all of it to become scientifically informed about our whereabouts.  We didn't need to look at reality as somehow always building back on itself, perpetual improvement and development of forms, chemicals, and matter.  Somehow into animacy and life and intelligence.  We have this idea about our universe as an perpetual improvement upon itself which involves life.  And the perpetual improvement and development of it.  We can't explain it all and it doesn't matter.  What matters is that everything keeps improving as God had intended it.  But is it blind to look at it like this?"

    "So an version combines art interpretation and science interpretation and all that good stuff," said an crone, "and your version is that an Mermaid leaving the mer kingdom (eloping) to be with his passion.  You.  Yourself.  The Narrator.  An human who can found an Version academy on land.  And one in which Atlantis will never have to deal with it again that real supposedly feminist merwomen are extremely hard to trust and go too hard like all of the time.  They are such bullies who don't even know their own strength, being masters of the water.  But if we measure them (the gnashing teeth) scientifically we might ask questions like, well how many gashing teeth are there exactly?  What does it mean instinctively and biologically for an mermaid to undergo this treatment?  Why is Atlantis, even though he is different, maybe more of an Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer type?  Why is the story about him moving onto land, and how is that accomplished?  Why is it important that the person he encounters there is Ouen, the one who will help him build his new version academy which as already been around in mermaid society for ages?  What does an story like this say about art and science?"

    "The primary figure is the metaphor, an mermaid, an fictional subject an phenomenon we lack scientific data for because we cannot actually measure him or her.  He only exists in an story.  And yet don't we all exist in an story?"

    "Why do we need such grandiose scientific attention to label parts of objects that are part of the story all of the time?  Can't we just have stories that let themselves fill in their own objectivity?  Without needing an accurate measure on everything?  Science is an information collector's world.  Art is an entertainment & virtue collector's world.  Things we don't need to measure with science to be aware of because we already know them.  But, heck, you can expect we will try to measure them anyway!"

    "Yea," said Ouen, "versions combine artistic and scientific facts in order to explain reality and the world.  Versions tell an story about how it possible for an scientific fact to exist even in the face of total oblivion (emptiness, the Artist's canvas) and yet somehow there is still the possibility of subjectivity to exist.  Since the world is only an metaphor; an fictional myth of an mermaid's existence it is unable to be measured and yet appearing in words and language allows us to assess it on somewhat different terms.  Like moral quandaries.  What it feels like.  The story is about an fictional being passing through the forethought of the carnival stage in the mind (the reader's mind and imagination) and yet somehow being able to collect scientific data on itself even though it is only an fictional, mythical being.  How can you measure or identify something that doesn't exist‽  That's why my version is about the bullying and harassment that went on among freakishly competitive mermaid nature.  So that you can't measure it.  Isn't that what we wanted now?  The fictional, metaphorical being is fed up with how other people treat him and so he goes on an voyage to meet Ouen, his storyteller, and to create his own academy without all of the mer-noise extant.  An fictional being is set with the task of measuring itself and yet it cannot because it isn't real.  This is an classic problem in science.  Can you detect yourself and how?  If you are only fictional, how will you be able to say something about the real world in which we live,  scientifically?  You cannot see any part of the real world if you only exist in an fictional one.  And yet if you have an relationship with the Author you might be able to pull an few strings on what is going into making this narrative.  You can know scientific facts about the universe.  But your universe itself doesn't necessarily need to comply with them.  An mermaid can swim, and breathe, and love magic if it wants to.  We are going from an place without much scientific exploration of the fact that Atlantis felt he was mistreated; toward an more concentrated art supply the caliber of which could only be bred in an Version post-university facility.  And since my version is itself about telling versions then I consider it an superior version for its ability to help people come up with their own.  It's easy.  You take art (like the story of telling about an mermaid named Atlantis) and you mash it together with science.  What was the temperature of the water?  What did gnashing teeth sound like to everyone?  Why was it statistically variable for humans on land to be more tolerable than any fake mermaid society?  Maybe humans weren't so bad afterall."

    "Is that the moral of your story?"

    "The moral is.  If you can't stand your neighbors move outta there quickly."

    "So your version is an mermaid interrupted; who goes to where he belongs and is respected as such for presenting as female even though he is male."

    "For telling his own version," said Ouen, "he was bullied for telling his own version, even though it's okay for everybody else to have their own versions, which they vociferously argue & debate about.  They were all so focused on having their own version and it being viable that they forgot to listen to his.  Atlantis.  I would have done the same thing.  Same thing!  If everyone in my community was so small-minded and hive-like about having to share their opinions at an certain decibel loud enough for everyone to hear.  The whole ocean.  Just filled with mermaid screams and cautionary dramatic presentations.  What an annoying siren-like ruckus!  And so he learns to tell is version safely and humanely in an different society than the one he's used to.  Atlantis being here to help me found the Version academy depends on him being able to make the adequate transition to above sea-level.  An hovering mechanical monster with its own containment of aqua which allowed him to become mobile on land.  He went to all the trouble just to get away from his screaming sisters.  To see if he could make an difference in an real society that respects him.  And helping people tell their own versions more powerfully with one another, taking into account the versions of the various people within their community.  My version, you see, is about versions.  It's an story about an mermaid who is so depressed in society that he moves away in order to tell his version the way it was meant to be told."

    "So what are versions for?"

    "I think you mean what is the purpose of this facility?"

    "Yes."

    "Well when people bring their versions together, there is an chance for personal growth.  You see, telling your own version better means being able to tell other people's versions better also.  We practice sharing and writing in an post-Ru Paul's Drag Race environment in which the drag queens have divided masses, between the Angels and Demons (panelists).  Who continually taunt or heckle, or affirm and support graciously depending on which panel they are in.  People learn how to tell their versions with everything about their appearance, body, and behavior.  When people tell each other their versions there is an sexy little part of it that always occurs.  We learn how to do it you-style; from your version we see everything from the collision to the climax in your enterprise.  All as if it had been told on an artistic medium combined with an scientific one.  You could do anything artistically there.  And there was an chance for it for your audience, reader-observers.  Or analyzer.  To express something that had never been expressed before and so by saying it in science it being the thing that was observed and measured.  It eclipsed the scientific study of the art because each artistic expression was unique and it was harder to try to draw scientific connections between them."

    "So versions tell versions."

    "Yes because they accumulate themselves as one another's behavioral analysis.  Telling your version about what is happening today.  Is met with other people telling their version about what is happening today and somehow you will need to figure out how to work together and collaborate between yourselves.  That's God's enigmatic love that you learn how to tell one another's versions as though you knew it like the back of your hand.  To know one another this way.  As students of an Version will be an new type of experience in an historical category to do with globality and globalization.  The point is people who know one another's versions are stronger together because they learn how their versions change over time.  An academy that brings together people who are already self-aware of their own knowledge of an production of versions.  In order for them to learn others' versions and in order for others to learn their versions.  Do you understand what that kind of training will do to an person mentally and physically?  They will become experts at presenting their versions in society at precisely the moments when they need it.  They will become the leaders for all time.  People capable of using powerful argument skills which integrate more than one version at an time; they will bring livelihood and animation to the crowds of heavily anonymous people who attend modern society."