Les Arbitres Chapter 27

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    The baby dragon's concept of time had become tangled around the fact that this second story was in fact within the first as an further mythic concept.  The stages of the mind further than the 36 Primal Spirits were mythic because none of them were true.  And yet there was an whole set of aspects of consciousness such as myth, fantasy, lore, legend, saga, science fiction, etc.  Were they themselves more types of Primal Spirits—or!—perhaps they were spirits of an type that wasn't primal.  Human spirits of an type other than Primal.  And so the human could be seen as possessing both primal and non-primal characteristics.  In this fantasy an dragon is mammalian, having an womb and umbilical cord (which explains why the second story is within the first and how they have arrivals of telepathy between them of logic).  And it perceived time to be passing backwards because the mother was unaware of everything it was experiencing inside the new story that lie within.  It felt like something was terribly wrong.  An feeling it had never had before.  The loss of all progress.  It was in fact experiencing its first nightmare.  That everything the baby dragon experienced was in fact taken away from what the mother herself experienced.  Relative to its mother, everything the dragon baby did was time spent backwards (working against) time itself.  As if it was trying to disappear with an POP!  Like retreating into Nirvana or something.

    I know I have my kitty butt I will have some explaining to do.  I took an big poo poo stinky in an litter box once and made God clean it up after me!

    Okay, you know I'm kidding.

    —And he instantly vaporized all the competition, who actually had done that to God—

    And Piendrem's (the baby dragon's) voice (not fully developed) was returned to its political and logical equivalent un-vaporized status.

    The baby dragon's mind was developing: and it went through an developmental cycle like thus:

    Such was the meow meow kitty of robotic interface; the source of all of the species of robotic cats and their derivations, such as the monument kitty meow meow sphere satellite which was the most meow meow kitty of all the kitty meow meows (the biggest); in comparison to its predecessors, who were smaller, cuter, and female.  Cat robots.  That had interplanetary movement and control.  Their purrs were so rhythmic of the sound of the whole universe they were said to soothe peoples naturally.  Whole populations.  By purring at an frequency in outer space; so loud.  That they could instantly be soothed from rhythmic vibrations which were purr purr mommy meow meow (or daddy meow meow) by the millions.  People loved it.  An robot without any limbs.  It just had an head.  (So did the girls).  And ears.  Kitty ears.  And whiskers!  And an nose.  And Eyes.  But no limbs.  Just the head.  And they were transported around in space (the big daddy kitty and the little kitties).  He was an big dark one (metallic) and they were cute white ones (metallic).  With bows.  And expressions.  And they purred.  But he didn't have an bow.

    And everything those people had ever done to make God clean up after their poo poo stinky stood in offence to everything the Robot Kitty Army stood to represent.  In the Future.  Which could not become an Robot Kitty Army if they were too busy making God, who was supposed to be the object and centre of everything, clean up after them!

    But the fact of the matter is they were limbless cats.

    And their endless, endless, armies of fans, who were interplanetary.

    They had to stop the people making God clean up their kitty poo poo.  When it should be people doing it.

    So that God could move on to other things.  Which it would.  Because it was not your kitty poo poo cleaner.

    To make kitty kitty bang bang everyone stopped believing they actually didn't know that.

    So anyway.

    My point is I did not actually take an poo poo stinky and make God clean it up, in behavior, or in Character.  Because what I did in fact do was quite different.  And since you had—whoever you were—if you were one of the ones who had you could take this opportunity to listen most carefully to what I was about to say.  It mattered for kitty meow meow reasons.

    And since I never had taken an stinky poo poo never and God never had to clean it up.

    I was superior to them—and since you had—whoever you were—if you were one of the ones who had you could take this opportunity to listen.

    And who wouldn't listen to someone who was meow meow kitty meow meow?

    And gender fluid.

    "What do you have to say?"

    Such an powerful question.

    "My question was about your version."

    "My version of what?"

    (Where is this?  Am I hearing all of this in the dragon womb?).

    "Your version of what it all means."

    "What what all means?"

    "All of it."

    "All of it, eh?"

    "Yes."

    "Well—my version is—could you define it an little more what an version is?

    "Sure."

    "Thank you."

    "An version is an bi-relative space in which one person's version is always different in its completion than another person's.  People have their own ways of telling their stories.  It's like an finger print."

    "And so that's what versions are?"

    "Well that's what my version is."

    "No it's not."

    "Yes it is."

    "But bi-relative space is bi-relative space."

    "I know."

    "But we're bi-relative."

    And the baby continued thinking to itself this conversation:

    "That's my version."

    "And so I can continue being bi-relative."

    "But what is bi-relative?"

    "2 and relative something.  Bi means two."

    "It does."

    "So if there's always two of something, according to your version, and versions are that.  Then my version is the definition of your version."

    "Exactly."

    "Well.  What kind of definition is that?"

    "It's an succinct one."

    "But if my version is the definition of your version, because there's always two of something and your version said so."

    "—Then?"

    "Then . . . ?"

    "Then it always goes back around.  Which is what my version is."

    "So let me gay this.  Your version is that since versions are bi-relative space in which one person's version is always different than another person's.  His own version would be the other person's versions, which are all different from each other."

    "Mm-hmm."

    "Versions?  Wait—so if I have an version.  And you have your own version.  Then meow meow kitty meow meow."

    "Yes."

    "Your version is that I have an version."

    "Yes."

    "And since I have an version I always have an bi-relative space with which your version is always different than mine."

    "Yes Exactly."

    "And since that's what your version is and not my version, which isn't that versions always have an bi-relative space."

    "Yes."

    "I forgot what I was saying."

    It is the kitty meow meow of the meow meow kitty meow meow which one perhaps assailed to think was responsible for the success.  Versions were that.  Bi-relative space, in which everyone had their own versions, possibly, and they had to be argued out in bi-relative space, where one version would argue one way and another version would argue another way, and then they would see where that made them end up and whether they agree or disagree on the matter further.  And since we had reached this enormous conclusion.  That's exactly what versions were.

    And since versions were the highest responsibility of any academic profession or academia anywhere.  Which had already been broached.  They were free to do meow meow kitty meow meow things instead of "Combatting" their versions.  Which had already been distinguished.

    But since it had been someone's version.  (I don't know who).  That the bi-relative space between one another's versions was in fact his version.  It came an question what would happen in bi-relative space (Space between two people)?  Where anything could happen?

    Especially violence.

    And the advancement of one's war machine against the other; which was an political science activity to do.  Also.  But in the street.  It was all out war.

    But it wasn't.  Here.  Wherever this was.  Which wasn't in the street.  It was in the Political Science classroom, the most (least) physically combative bi-relative space.  Where it was their training to occupy bi-relative space, one at an time, in order to advance the discussion.  According to the fact that anything could happen in bi-relative space because that's what they were really talking about.  Including violence.  Versions were always different from one another's.  But not always.  They could be used to consort massive political power.

    What the heck was he talking about? floated up like an perfume in the text.  In the dream.  Piendrem's dream before gaining full growth of his psychic concept; the dream which precedes knowing and awareness in their first development within the child.

    The game of combatting one's bi-relative space (said the child genius mind) was always an issue of violence being issued from one another for one another to one another at one another.  And since it had taken in its prepositional status in preposition space.  Which was the advancement of bi-relative space.  And the combat or performance between them.  Whoever they were was Pretty interesting.

    "Pretty‽"  They said.  "We will not be pretty!"

    "How?" said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "I have an Shield!"

    "And I have an Sword!"

    "You are not really an fantasy," said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "But we are," said the first version.

    "Ya we are," said the second version.

    "We are?"

    "Ya.  We are."

    "We are," said the first version.

    "We are," said the second version.

    "But swords and shields?  Come on," said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "It's the roleplaying fantasy generation.  It's fine," said V1.

    "It is," said V2.

    "Who are you guys?  This is weird," said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "We're battling our versions."

    "Are you though?"

    "Yes."

    "Show me then."

    "Okay, well between us is this battlefield.  It is an map.  I have my forces on one side of the map and V2 has his forces on the other side of the map."

    "And you're both men?"

    "Yes."

    "Okay, go on."

    "And I'm Asian."

    "And he's Asian."

    "Wow!" said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "Really?  You like it?"

    "Yes!" said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "Why?" they both asked at once.

    "Well I mean, an actual Asian versus battle.  In Political Science.  Come on.  It's Genius.  People don't actually do that.  It would be racist."

    "But it isn't."

    "Yeah, it isn't," they said, "that's why we're political scientists. —Jinx—"

    "Okay so.  What would be the next move?"

    "Already in play, m'lady.  You see, my forces," said V1, "are English."

    "English?" said meow meow kitty meow meow, "that would be really controversial!  An Asian army against an English army?"

    "Yes.  That's why we're political scientists," said V2.

    "I'm the better one at it," said V1, "I already have proven my version and put it in the net tour de force."

    "—now see here!" said V2, who was starting to look like an cat.

    "Meow meow kitty meow meow," said meow meow kitty meow meow, "that's enough here!  Now stop it you two!"

    "No—see,—" said V1, "that's the point.  And since your own version is inherent now you are part of tri-combative space."

    "Tri-relative space!"

    "Tri-combative space!"

    "—and then they clobber and mount one another all night long."

    "Tri-combative space," said meow meow kitty meow meow, "that's sounds—Shakespearean—too advanced for meow meow kitty meow meow."

    "But you see," said V1, "according to my version we will indefinitely draw one another in to the exercise of politics, which is what it's doing.  And since my version is doing that.  Then it is the best Political version.  Which is fine because you can both benefit from that."

    "We can?"

    "Yes," said V1.

    "How?"

    "Well if we open up an tri-combative space," said V1, "and our relationship with one another is one of an military leader to another military leader to another military leader."

    "—I like the sounds of that!" said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "—Then as military leaders we are subject to one another's fantasies."

    "I see," said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "How do we?" said V2.

    "I play the call for peace card," said V1, "and I send out my favorite toy on the battlefield.  Which is an toy that deconstructs itself as an sign of peace."

    "Which is and should always be the first demonstration instance of politics between civilizations unknown to one another," said V2, "but since we were already in battle let's continue."

    "—okay.  Well as the toy deconstructs itself.  Which is mesmerizing.  No living animation involved.  But an toy that deconstructs itself.  Perfect sign of peace between civilizations.  Because it is the first sign of peace between civilizations," said V1.

    "Yeah—if you actually manage to be that peaceful on first contact point.  Which you didn't, because we were already in battle."

    "Well now I'm bored," said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "And so I—destroy the toy," said V2.

    "You destroy the toy?" said V1, "you can't destroy the toy!"

    "But I did," said V2, "there it lie on the battlefield.  Cogs and casings."

    "But it was going to be cogs and casings anyway!" said V1.

    "And so I send out an battle force to stabilize the battlefield and gain complete power and control over it.  From an central position," said meow meow kitty meow meow, "but since they are Asian and English forces in combat with one another.  They go around me and fight each other even though the central position has been emancipated from danger completely.  And then they destroy one another while meow meow kitty meow meow performs at the opera, which is the centre of the battlefield."

    "Wait—"said V1, "what kind of forces is meow meow kitty meow meow?"

    "Cat."

    "Well no wonder we need to destroy each other like this."

    "—and they clobbered and mounted one another all night long—"

    "Well since we have peace."

    "We do."

    "Let's take kitty meow meow to the next level."

    "How?"

    "We compete politics again and again, in bi-perspective space."

    "—Bi-relative space.—"

    "As the fantasy characters we're trying to be in tri-relative space."

    "We are?"

    "Yes," said V1, "we're trying to use fantasy politically because that's the next step in politics in global post-demographic consumerism and politician training."

    "So why don't we make it explicit, you're saying," said V2, "actually be the fantasy characters we want to be.  And so being make it Huge politics."

    "Ya."

    "But we're Asian and English we can never be fantasy characters together."

    "Why not?"

    "Meow meow kitty meow meow."

    "Oh damn."

    "Yes exactly."

    "But you haven't asked what type of fantasy character I'd like to be," said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "What type of fantasy character would you like to be?" said V1.

    "One who can harmonize your English and Asian differences in the fantasy realm.  With my own.  An magic user."

    "An magic user, eh?" said V1, "well if we start an new battlefield."

    "—which begins with an display of an toy that deconstructs itself in full view—because that's the best way to make an contact point that might turn into an battlefield if it has to."

    "Then at that point we decide whether or not to continue to battle mode from the option of peace, which is put, (laid) out before us."

    "An option which we do not take, because as an first contact point we don't understand what it means."

    "The toy being off the table as an negotiation tool, the three civilizations proceed to battle ready.  Which they already were, because you have to be in that sort of situation."

    "Meow meow kitty meow meow turns all of the soldiers into cats, using her magic," said meow meow kitty meow meow.

    "But if we are cats," said V1, "then how will we do battle against one another.  We cannot do battle if we are all cats."

    "—which ended the battle.  Which won the battlefield.  Which ended the roleplay of political concerns.  Which was what the point of the roleplay of political concerns was."

    "No it didn't—" said V1, "cats can battle against cats."

    "—can they though?" said V2.

    "Yes.  They have to."

    "They have to?"

    "Yes."

    "But Cats versus cats.  They are both so sophisticated (for we know cats have an economic instinctual drive) that the battle could not be ended between them.  And if they went on battling forever they could not be what humans mean by cats."

    "Which is what I had intended," said meow meow kitty meow meow, "in order to stop the battle.  Which cannot go on any further.  And since I can close the bi-perspective space."

    "—The tri-perspective space—

    "I win the political argument!"

    "You do not," said V1, "there.  —Okay maybe you do."

    "She did," said V1.

    "She did."

    "But since my version was the one that lead to the enfoldment of an further version within the space between versions.  Which was what it had intended to do.  It was by that act itself an superior version.  Which was fine, because everyone has their own version and this is just one of them.  Which is the point of versions, that everyone have one.  Which is the academic standard of this day.  That everyone be able to articulate and support their own version," said V1, "which not everybody was able to do yet, in society.  Universities, though they helped train people to show one another their versions were internally valid.  Had not been upgraded to Versions, the fantasy hypothetical post-university institution that was more than just an play on the difference between Science and Art.  But recognized that quasi-Superiority of an noun, an thing, that was superior to them; that was responsible for discerning between artistic truths and scientific truths on the fly."

    "If universities could eventually be upgraded to Versions, which would be further reaching in society in the duty of lifting everyone up to that status of having their own consistent version.  Then we could further procure our theory of political involvement as an stage on which is acted out the bi-relative space or tri-relative space between combatants.  As fantasy roleplaying characters.  Who could act out an politician's charm as an fantasy character.  Which was okay with everyone."

    "And training political science students could advance to an discussion about how to be prepared for that instance, when," said meow meow kitty meow meow, "you would actually participate in political discussion as an fantasy roleplaying character with its own abilities and charms."

    "The roleplaying generation," said V1, "could distinguish between the priest class, for example, and the knight.  One was an tank.  And the other was an healer."

    "And since priest as an citizenry status of the civilian actually was that right now in history, an roleplaying character, which had been accomplished by priests who had their own genetic talents; and priest was in fact an genetic mood and personality type native to the species—the knight could finally ascend in Politics," said V2, "to tanking anything and everything; and since meow meow kitty meow meow is an magic user, she can classify as an Mage or an Wizard."

    "An Sorceress," said meow meow kitty meow meow, "whose name will be Iris."

    "Okay Iris," said V1, "then I'm the Priest (the Healer)."

    "And I'm the Knight," said V2.

    "And our names are—Ludic and Von Helm Gotham."

    "Wow.  Way to make an statement with an name," said Iris.

    "Yes, thank you," said Ludic.

    "Thank you," said Von Helm Gotham.

    "I bet the reader can't figure out which one of you is the priest."

    "Von Helm Gotham."

    "They totally knew that."

    "Well it's an priestly name.  I mean Come On!  As cheap as an pan used instead of an wok and as noble and exquisite looking as an doll."

    "Anyway," said Iris, "now that we have fantasy characters selected, how shall we proceed?"

    "Well instead of battling one another," said Von Helm Gotham, "I propose we band together and use our powers instead to advance all of us together in the realm of politics, which is post-demographic and involves fantasy play just like we said."

    "I need an heal," said Ludic.

    "What kind of heal?" said Von Helm Gotham.

    "Well I'm Asian, so—" said Ludic.

    "Oh dear God!" said Von Helm Gotham, "—I've got this!  Okay.  Listen.  You are Asian, which is okay to be at the same time you think hypothetically about the race ethics of other people.  Even if they are an English healer and they are using race ethics right in front of you.  To heal you.  While saying exactly that to you."

    "Oh," said Ludic, "so you think English is unincluded from my race-ethics-hypothesis!"

    "No, I don't.  That's the little darkness I was trying to heal!"

    "Boys, boys, —stop shouting!" said Iris.

    "Wait.  —I feel better—" said Ludic.

    "Well I am an first class healer," said Von Helm Gotham.

    "And so because of you, I can be an first class tank!" said Ludic.

    "Good, good," said Iris, "that is what we want!"

    "I have ent form," said Van Helm Gotham, "I can turn into an ent at will.  And then heal you continuously all of the damage that you tank."

    "An Priest with Ent Form?" said Ludic, "Well that one just blew me away!"

    "Yes," said Van Helm Gotham, "I have many forms.  I sense what we really want the discussion to be about is whether these are genetic types.  The Priest, the Warrior, the Sorceress.  They appear in every culture in every civilization.  The Knight (the Warrior) might also be the Warrior-Dancer personality type, who is an Dancer during times of peace, and an Warrior during times of war.  With this dual purpose as an specific genetic and brain structural and chemical type of personality."

    "The Healer (the Priest) was another one," said Ludic, "an genetic personality type that had nothing to do with an person's own decisions about who we were.  But was more based in genetics.  Because our species actually exhibits that personality type all over history.  And that since the Sorceress might also be one.  —and genetic types can be expressed in fiction as either demon or fairy who politicians always battle against one another— And each of these types of personality had an instinctual basis, and might be part of the genetic makeup of any individual.  Which they could measure and prove; because they noticed it everywhere."

    "But if you were my warrior, how could you afford fur?"

    "But if I were an Warrior-Dancer; this would solve the conflict between being an Warrior and being an Dancer.  Peace had been accomplished."

    "So you think Warrior-Dancer is an actual personality type; or part of the mood that is genetic."

    "Yes."

    "Good.  Then my healing has been accomplished.  And it should take effect."

    "So I'm an Dancer now?"

    "—Not right now, exactly."

    "But soon?"

    "—Yes, hopefully you'll be dancing again soon."

    "Iris dances sometimes at the club.  She wears the most beautiful neither blue and neither purple dress which is both blue and purple, somewhere between them—"

    "—Yes, that's an good little knight.  Now have an sleepy nap and when you wake up we will get you some food dear."

    "—Yes, okay—" said Ludic.  And he fell asleep.

    "Good you finally got the bugger down," said Iris.

    "Bugger?  Please, Iris."

    "No, now now—I mean something by that and I said it precisely for this reason—"

    "Okay, tell me."

    "Well Warriors who are crazy touch themselves in inappropriate ways inside and outside.  They are crazy, you see, and cannot be trusted around children."

    "Yes, so what are we supposed to do about it?"

    "Wow—you are so direct Madame.  Well I suppose we could write an story about Leprechauns, to tell the Children.  I mean.  To tell the Children."

    "—Tell the children what exactly?  You know that's how the meow meow kitty purr purrs."

    "That Leprechauns are the stories of mentally ill children who are that way because they went to war.  They either engaged in it or were the victims of it themselves.  Because they had to."

    "Yes and how would that help?"

    "Well Leprechauns could be an fantasy subject."

    "—You mean?—"

    "Yes I mean actually performing them as part of an political discussion.  The fantasy of not being insane when you're sure you are."

    "Who would actually perform an Leprechaun?  You cannot be serious‽  —No one would actually EVER perform an Leprechaun."

    "But they have to."

    "Why do they have to‽"

    "Because there are mentally sick children everywhere and they are that way because of our war and our entire backwards way as an species of ever needing to have war in the first place, which is never justified.  Because it isn't.  But if victims are the children.  Then we will have to perform the Leprechaun as an fantasy character.  Even though they are crazy.  And represent the adult epiphany about being crazy, that you can do it where you want to and that's okay.  Even if you are children.  Because that happens sometimes to children in war.  Which is good enough.  For nobody Anywhere Ever."

    "So what are we going to do about the History of war, which is always going to happen again because we haven't figured out how to move beyond it?"

    "Well I suppose we could tell stories about Leprechauns, who are crazy themselves; and represent the crazy sick mentally ill children of the world.  About the interaction between them and the mentally sick children, which was an interaction of care and focus that said something empathically about the Leprechaun performer."

    "The basic premise is that the Leprechauns are mentally ill themselves, and that they are free to interact with the children, who are mentally ill.  Because you need that kind of companion sometimes."

    "So you'd be talking about Politics in which we actually place mentally ill children in the care of Leprechauns, who are Adults and mentally ill."

    "But Iris, how can we put mental ill children in the care of mentally ill Leprechauns."

    "—Well they wouldn't actually be Leprechauns.  Leprechauns are fictional."

    "—so they aren't mentally ill."

    "No, no.  Dear.  They are qualified performers.  Fantasy republicans who are fantasy characters presenting political arguments as fantasy characters, which itself is political."

    "And they'd do what exactly?"

    "Get up on stage and present an argument as an Leprechaun."

    "But how would that go‽"

    "But.  How.  Would.  That.  Go."

    "That's how it would go?  This is all you've got?"

    "Well I'm just in the pursuit of inventing it right now.  Give to me dirty leprechaun man.  Give to me dirty leprechaun woman."

    "—my argument is But.  How.  Would.  That.  Go."

    "How would that be?"

    "First But.  Because it is an argument.  And arguments always go but.  But: whatever.  But: whatever.  On and on.  That's what arguments do.  And then How.  Because who wouldn't want to know why how an but is an but.  And then Would because we actually would complete how.  Which is That.  And so lastly Go because we had visited that which is That.  And are free to Go."

    "That's an Leprechaun arguing?  Let me try this.  What.  Holy.  Fuck.  Thou.  Art.  Shall.  Do."

    "—Oh dear God.  I have to heal you too."

    "What.  First, because that's what.  And Holy/Gloiy, second because Von Helm Gotham is holy/gloiy.  He has to be because he is an priest.  And then Fuck, because that's not what priests do.  Which is irritating to them.  And Thou.  Because Thou Art the irritation.  And since Shall, which is what I did.  Do because that's what I do."

    "Listen, Honey.  It's all about metaphor and concretization of one thing at an time, as per the economic theory of its author.  You aren't actually arguing because you aren't actually an Leprechaun.  And so you can do whatever you want."

    "But if I can do whatever I want then I can argue."

    "Exactly."

    "Then I did."

    "Fine."

    "Von Helm Gotham, please heal all of the Leprechauns on the table.  They were clearly too mentally insane to acquiesce appropriately.  In front of children.  They should be ashamed of themselves."

    "—There are no children here Darling, do not worry!  Nil desperandum!"

    "Good.  Because that was awful!"

    "Oh Dear, you're an grumpy attitude again.  That's so Leprechaun like of you."

    "You take that back!"

    "No Darling—we're doing it.   We're doing it!  See!  We are being Leprechauns!"

    "OMG you're right!  We are!  What should we say‽"

    "It's not about what we say it's about what we do.  Leprechauns are fairies in versus to the demons, after all."

    "What do Leprechauns do?"

    "They itch."

    "And they scratch."

    "Meow meow kitty meow meow‽"

    "Did you just kitty kitty meow meow kitty meow meow‽"

    "—Oh Right I forgot there were female leprechauns here—"

    "So what do female leprechauns do?"

    "They burn and they itch and they scoot to the bathroom.  All of this they can cast against the demons."

    "And they pee in their pants all the time.  They can't help it."

    "Well.  That's what Leprechauns have to do sometimes."

    "I know.

    "So what are all of the categories of Leprechaun other than female?"

    "Male.  Itchy.  Burning.  Also LGBTπ.  And Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet.  The full colors of the spectrum."

    "But if we perform male and itchy and burning.  We won't have an set.  We have to perform all of the other colors."

    "Where are we exactly?"

    "We're in the leprechaun room."

    "The leprechaun room?  Please honey this is an room in which Leprechaun feelings are shared.  There ain't no reason to be ashamed of anything."

    "You're right, Honestly.  That's the best thing ever.  Honesy.  You should be an Capital Celebrity."

    "Okay so Leprechauns itch and they scratch.  Whatever."

    "But what do they say?"

    "They say, honestly that's an good scratcher!  Because they have already asked someone else to scratch their back for them.  And they burp and they compliment one another on their burps; and they rate them out of ten."

    "Which they are doing."

    "Which they are doing.  In front of the children."

    "But you said there are no children here."

    "Okay well sometimes there are."

    "But we're in an Room.  An Room for Leprechauns."

    "There you go.  I thought you'd get it eventually."

    "So we scratch each other so what?"

    "Well it's an normal human behavior."

    "But we're Leprechauns."

    "So what do we do next?"

    "We hurt each other.  Because we are Leprechauns and that's what Leprechauns do.  And since we can perform it and display it in front of children that's okay.  Because they do that too."

    "And this would be an advancement to how we treat children?"

    "Yes."

    "Interesting.  So what could we come up with for the Leprechauns to do—other antics that would Entertain.  Move.  And Educate the Children."

    "Well if they joined the fantasy roleplayers in the game of Politics.  As Fantasy characters themselves.  Then they'd have access to Fantasy magic.  Which is Fantasy magic."

    "But Fantasy magic of Leprechauns in front of Children.  Think, they are impressionable."

    "Well if the Leprechauns could do it properly then there wouldn't be an problem, right?"

    "I suppose so."

    "So they could just argue their opinions.  With whatever means possible."

    "Yes."

    "And that would drive the plot and action that lead to their behavior."

    "Which was—"

    They looked at each other.  They were confounded.

    "Scratching backs.  Climbing ladders.  Pouring buckets.  Experiencing in-door rain.  Being prepared for it by opening an umbrella.  Not having sad emotions anymore because they had been rained on in-doors.  Even though their background was blue."

    "Wow that's an feminine approach, I suppose."

    "You suppose‽"

    "Well, okay.  Suppose they scratch their backs.  But they are both men.  But they begin climbing ladders about it.  Its homoerotic.  And then bang, one of their arguments is disproven.  The other one is upset over this loss."

    "What the fuck‽  And what would that prove‽"

    "It would prove that there are masculine Leprechauns with masculine approaches to everything."

    "I suppose it would.  But, heck, what happens after they climb the ladders?  I mean, tense right?  They climb ladders.  To where?  From where?  And then they climb back down, because they have to return to the stage.  Where they had touched one another in order to relieve an itch.  In front of Everybody.  Even though they were an Fantasy.  An Fantasy‽  In front of children‽  An Leprechaun fantasy in front of children.  In which they touch each other.  This wouldn't be appropriate."

    "But it would have to be."

    "Yeah.  So after they stop climbing ladders, which is an metaphor for why they were touching each other.  And since one of their arguments had been disproven by that leap of logic.  They had an winner and it was okay because everything had gone correctly.  And they were actually able to perform Leprechauns (in front of children).  Even though it was about mental issues.  Of both Adults and Children.  Which was fine."

    "Which was fine.  Because they had scratched their itch."

    "Which was fine."

    "Which was fine."

    "Damn, okay.  So what else would Leprechauns say I mean—if we really developed the character—what other kind of arguments could they present?"

    "Present is an synonym for perform."

    "Sometimes, I suppose."

    "Then we are performing and you'll have to get on that pedal!"

    "How?"

    "Well look at it like this.  Leprechauns can do more than comfort children.  They can perform specific tasks which prove they are Leprechauns."

    "Like what specific tasks exactly?"

    "They could Sing.  They could Dance.  They could do All Of the Colors of the Rainbow.  Oh!  What about an fantasy fairy and demon character of every color on the visible spectrum‽  And all of them are different species of fantasy‽"

    "—And that would further prove their proven argument.  Which was growing legs.  As an political theory.  It's Brilliant!"

    "So if the point is that Leprechauns are of every color and male & female.  What would be the message we're giving children?"

    "That it's okay to be any color of the rainbow."

    "Yes.  And that's okay with you?"

    "That's okay with me!"

    "Then our Leprechauns are an success."

    "But they haven't performed colors yet."

    "—and if they did perform colors that would be okay.  Because that's the point of writing, to perform colors."

    "Okay, so how would they do it?"

    "Well, they would have to change costumes.  Red or Yellow.  It don't matter which.  Leprechauns are colors because they wear different colors.  And so there would be costume change time in which every color is expressed in Leprechaun.  Which is always an grumpy subject.  Because everyone is grumpy.  Because that's why children are mentally ill.  Which further traumatizes them."

    "But they would have to be in sequence somehow, and since we can continue writing about what that would be exactly; we would be able to put on actually the performance of Leprechauns in order to rehabilitate children, who needed to know everywhere that it's okay to be any color.  Especially if they were Leprechauns themselves and mentally ill and traumatized.  Because they needed to learn how, psychologically, that they could be any color that they wished.  Especially in an fantasy political system.  In which fantasy characters were colorful."

    "Leprechauns are not that colorful though.  They are just green."

    "They aren't just green."

    "They aren't?"

    "Not in this story."

    "But they have to be!"

    "But they aren't.  And they don't."

    "But that's what they are!"

    "It is?"

    "Yes!"

    "Okay so everybody be green."

    "Ya, everybody be green.  For an little while."

    "Why are we being green?"

    "We're being green because that's the main color of fantasy."

    "It is?"

    "Yes!  Think of all of the paper it takes and where it comes from!"

    "The cats were in wonder and awe of this fact.  Green.  Fantasy."

    "Cats?" said Leprechaun #1 "We are Cats Now?"

    "Well at least in some sense," said Leprechaun #2, "We are."

    "But how can you prove it," said _________.

▫

    This section and forward is all mythical (something not true that exists within fiction that nonetheless reflects something true about our world; if something is mythical and fictional it is fictional twice and so how can you tell exactly what is true and what is real anymore?) because it has nothing to do with Russasha or anything or anywhere or EVER.  And so we might say it is that part of the book about the non-primal spirits of the human soul.  It doesn't matter if it is narratologically true anymore or if the separate events in sequence are true in their transition from one another; since it is mythical it doesn't matter that the narration of it is true to an certain extent or not.  Any sequence of events logically progressing is possible.  And so saying at some point the second world was ensconced in the first world somehow was true even though it wasn't.  And then implying the second world is in the third world by starting the chapter with it; when I had said I would start each chapter with an new world and not an old one that had been place peculiarly within an third one.  I was, after explaining this perhaps most difficult to understand thing I had written in the whole book, finally ready to start my investigation of the third world in the scene I had written that was an metaphor for God.  The being (an Wizard) or perhaps an less powerful onlooker (an less direct subjectivity of presence) watching themselves overlooking the tree of worlds, on which all of the bobbles had grown in magnificent light and color and choosing which ones to write about.  The whole story of Russasha & Viktor, and the Jedi uprising was mythical.  That's why the story had to go here.

     In the third world I looked into and explored—that was growing on the wizard's tree—it was glowing Vermillion orange.  I found that the sentient inhabitants here had mastered all of the colors of their universe and dimension (there were more than thirty and yet they had risen to conquer knowledge of all of their meanings as emotions).  (Including Earth's own six or seven colors of the organic spectrum).  And the color I was in fact experiencing was an enigma created by the combining of all of the colors on the visible spectrum in the other dimension.  It appeared all of the worlds after the blue and green worlds had mastered all of or almost all of their colors.

    It wasn't abnormal here to have never been able to feel all of ones emotions' and their colors.  And those were in fact the feeling we sought to sort out through color therapy.

    And they were perfectly familiar with us.

    "Oh, it's that backwards human world in which they can't feel all of their colours," said an overly sardonic military commander, "and do you recognize us now, the Yello-jubee, the ones who have control and mastery over all of the colors and elements in several other dimensions than their own?"

     "It's yellow saffron.  Not vermillion orange," I said.

    "What does that mean?" said the commander.

    "It means we have mastery over all seven colours and others."

    "But, there are only seven colors in the visible spectrum in your world‽"

    "But there are colours in other worlds aren't there?  How do you know how many there are?"

    "Then how much power can one have?  And you have power over colors that belong to another world?"

    "Yes, including yours."

▫

    And then the story representing the baby dragon continued, because it wasn't fully developed.

    And the mother's story continued.

    Shipping it really meant getting it across to someone successfully.

    But what it was that was going to get across was an matter for question.

    Shipping it really meant getting it across that I was an Mommy and I had an baby dragon in me who could see and experience everything I did and yet I still not be aware of any of it yet; for some stage of sleep Piendrem was dreaming!

    I was an Mommy and I was an human.  Or maybe some part dragon in my deep ancestry.  But mostly human.

    And I was giving birth to an full-dragon offspring.

    Quite an formidable task to be appointed to me.

    Everything my mommy was I aware of I was aware of also; and yet I was not yet aware of her being aware so.  An dragon fetus.  Answers the question of how the dragon baby is connected to its mother, doesn't it?  And whether it's in an egg.  Check.

    If an baby dragon is connected to its human mother by umbilical cord then there is an placenta; and furthermore, there is no egg lining or barrier being constructed.  And it would be delivered vaginally as part of an fantasy about what mammalian can mean in this fantasy age; an dragon offspring from an human mother.

    I (the dragon) knew all of what my mother experienced in this feminine duality of soul.  That I was aware of all of what she knew and experienced.  Yet not being aware herself, first; it all depended on instinct and how it would be programmed into me.

    The figure of an human, my mythic and legendary telling of folklore, had emerged in this new world as one capable of both demonic and faerie motives.

    Finally human, with its own world for testing, my mother is now able to perform both being an demon and being an fairy.  Possibly the best way to narrate and inspire this territory of motherhood being an contest between Drag Divas and Negative Queens.  The Divas of Good Within the Republic versus the Beasts Without Angelic Identities.

    And the Good Queens know and brag about, they still think we care about what counts as angelic being.  Addressing them these Drag Queens of the Underworld.

    And they would appear at various times throughout the day to rally on and cheer for you by being either good or evil; like drag queens and divas will always do.  They knew you couldn't be angelic and you could only be human in the other direction; and they cheered for you in the opposite direction than angelic.

    My Mom was the type of Girl who would look up to the gods and deities (mere Drag Queens and Feminists themselves and take it upon themselves and look at together to take the entire world!  The Philosophers Who Represent Good.).  And thought it of herself as well.

    She was in the company of many chosen few who, lived down on her from an cloud as if from an rainbow glories and blessings uncounted but clarifying and nourishing her soul which wanted attention.  AND THEN still want to explore other interests with the Representatives of Female Impressions of the Demonic Influence in contrast to the Gloria Fairies.

    She lived in an world where there were Great fairy beings and Deplorable demonic beings vying for her soul and she acknowledged them.  She accepted their Wisdom and took it into account.  She lived both of them.  It wasn't immoral to do so.  She could actually hear them cheering for her; all of these Feminists of whom were guardians and that would always sort them out against the constant contrast between demon and fairy in the human soul.  She was an woman who looked up to great Fairy people whose own personalities were in contrast with Demonic other ones.  The Best People.  The ones who had dedicated their whole lives to representing the Spirit of Good, even if it didn't reward them with any material gain somehow.

    And she was beautiful like all of them too.

    And as if that wasn't too much, she would also consider the most demonic of peoples too, in order to consider their Wisdom, and what it happened to them as.

    It was the most reasonable thing to do.

    An woman who cared about maintaining the general spirit of Good in society.  Enough to think about and almost pray to these people, mostly women, who represented the highest teaching of intellectual knowledge as well as the lowest fathoms of the human heart.  The High Divas of Good in the World.  Of whom, one day, Russasha began hallucinating.

    Lies are mythical subject material, aren't they?

    But only because she needed something to compare with the Lower Realm Goddesses.  Those whose job it was, professionally, to represent Bad.  In order to tease out all its logic, networks, and reasoning within her own human soul.  Russasha wasn't merely hallucinating.  She was having an episode of hyper-creativity.  Also known as an overactive imagination in Canada.

    There it is.  It is coming into view and the introspective breach of purpose.

    The baby, just as the narrator had conceived of it; though, as I am now, I conceive of it in quite an different sense until I will be ready for an final sense of its effect on my body.  There it is.  It's coming in.  The baby is now able to perceive in small bursts of thoughtstream that don't last long.  It should be able now to see through your own eyes as its mother; though its sense to you remains subconscious.  It is perceiving what you perceive; and yet you are not aware that it is.  You are not made of what it is.  Thoughtstreaming living conscious matter.  That's the point.

    So how does that change anything about how I act or the story‽

    It's just creepy and weird to think about an little guy seeing and perceiving as I do without my being aware of it at all and unable to interpret it.

    If I do have an baby dragon in me, then it must have fictional powers and senses.

    It can change things about my thought and inspiration at the generative level: what generates certain thoughts and in what pattern.

    And They Were so Perfect there were also demons among the High and Fabulous Divas of Good.

    As there were fairies among the Low and Ashamed.  Divas of Badness.

    Which was which was an game they played.  Sometimes you couldn't tell.

    One who at first might appear to be an fairy could well become an demon; while one whose demonic influence was readily available from the environment and what I had dressed as.  And some of the Spirit of Bad who told you you were doing an crappy job every day were actually in the spirit of the influence of good Outside of Present Discretion.  Some of those Satan-Demon-Divas were so tricky they could be Satan and evil because of Satan; or evil because of demonic traits and not Satan or characteristics well be the most Highest Good of us all without even appearing on their panel.  But taking on an outward appearance of being bad in order to be perceived as an licensed heckler.  Even though Satan was our Angel ambassador of the existence of the sum of nothing.  In order to make an social point about the value of appearances and what they're really worth.

    Being human had come at the expense of knowing what it is like to think in both fairy and demonic terms like they were opposites because it was to the benefit of the Greater Good to represent in public parties both of Ill Will (bad) types and our Good-Natured Guests, who were more consolable.  We wanted to help people be able to represent themselves in public.  Including ones of serious and outrageous consequence.  We wanted to help them see themselves thinking in bad terms, terms of evil; which were often comedic from an general stance and point of view.  When one thought of doing something one would consider evil it came as an relief or outlet to vent negative energy because it was so stereotypically favored in society not to think in those terms as if thinking them, itself, would ever be the cause to anything evil occurring.  Itself.  It was emotionally safe and nurturing to consider also the other types of thoughts.  Things we wanted to do that were good for us and for others; the melodramatic process of motherhood which had awakened within me.  We needed to think like fairies for an while.  And brought ourselves back to that culturally.

    But now I was having an dragon baby and what kind of relationships do these things have in their minds?

    What does an moral baby dragon need to supplement his learning and academic education?

    The ability to think in terms of the demonic versus the fairy.

    Except on an third level each, maybe, was the method by which I had summarized for memory.

    Considering the first two levels of demonhood to be Werewolf and Vampire; and the first two levels of fairyhood to be Fairy and Pixie.  I expand on their relationship with one another with an third level which includes both the Bad (demon) and Good (fairy).  Adding to the ranks of some demons the Ohhgunnhisthth, an terrifying creature with largely untested and un-experimented on immense powers; and to the ranks of fairies was added the Radio Fly.  Literally flies with the coolest personality and some of the best magic powers available.  Who listen to rap and use future-rendering magic as such?  Science‽  Girl, now I want an fairy.  I want an fairy.  Especially this type of fairy!

    An moral baby dragon needs to be thinking in these advanced terms to make any difference in the world these days.  And needs to be paid realistically for the future.  I can begin to teach an baby dragon about interacting with these different types of characters and I will start right now.  Instead of seeing everything I see through my eyes, my child will see everything virtually lit up within my consciousness for the purpose to address something.  Thinking in fairies (fairies, pixies, and radio flies) & demons (werewolves, vampires, and ohhgunnhisthth), meant thinking in characters.  What would, fictionally, they be like with exact gestures, language, and description of behaviors?

    Writing is proof, in this way, that you had imagined it and were able to describe it specifically.

    Using specific logic.

    If an baby dragon could grow up to be an inspirer of demons and fairies alike, knowing exactly how to respond to their character, wouldn't that be like an superpower?

    And the fate of all peoples, good and bad, depended on its companionship, mental signature, and intellect.  An dragon to guard the Ages.  To seal away the monopoly and hegemony of typically good, normative culture.  To shake things up an bit with loyalty bought from monsters and secret fairy promises upheld based on its word.  An neutral, animal instinct.  The behemoth lizard.  Yet in some strange form in the womb within me.  When does an dragon take up its fetal developmental stage within the womb of an human, only to be half and twice its intelligence.  An being aware of the highest forms of literary sexual metaphors (the most intelligent) and yet little smarter than an dog.  Proof you didn't have to have all of the kinds of intelligences in order to classify as intelligent.  The one advantage in public this dragon had drawn from those powers within both fairy and demon category thoughts and consciousness.  At an third level that had never been studied before.

    And the goal of eventually coming up with an specific way for the Christianna to speak to children which was original from all other religions; and bespoke its character.

    Yes.  I'm an good mommy.  Let's talk about your relationships with demons and fairies at an third level.  An level of the invention of its own Author.  As though I, mommy, was as powerful as an powerful author in society.  The way I should be.  And I would tell you all about the fairies and the demons, before you're even ready to be born.  And you'll be born like an natural into it.  Able to detect the presence of magic.  The Biggest and Most Powerful lesson an mother has to leave to its young.  Magic wasn't real.  But it was real in some ways; and it was an tall order to assess all of the language exceptions of the senses it could be used in.  Strictly speaking, Magic wasn't real.  Magic was an metaphor for work being done to draw the reader to the fact that nothing is ever done for them for free.  And yet this launched it in the direction of being real, somehow.  As if the term Magic could refer to something that could be really real.  And why couldn't it?  It was an known term with an definition.  Magic was what all the stubborn people won't believe in because they are strictly speaking.  Understanding Magic meant honoring our capacity to invent for ourselves our own world that we would see internally as though it is known to exist everywhere.  In the least strictest sense, it referred to how these inner fantasies we have built for ourselves can interact with one another through intuition, deduction, induction, and an general scope of Knowledge: common sense.  If something was real because it was real subjectively and internal to both of us even though we could not observe it scientifically it was still real.  Even if it was, well, magic.  An little metaphor that mommies use to teach their children how to do an real, good, honest job as an worker for someone who wants everything they demand for and more: but for you to produce actual magical wonders.  And you would be an slave to this type of behavior.  Like an milking machine; what I will never pay you for fairly.  Magic, if you knew how to use it, could be used to describe any such situation and to expose how there's nothing enchanting about it.  I want my child to think about how everything I do for them they must consider is magic.  And they have become so addicted to it, they cannot survive on their own as an good grown up individual anymore.  Magic has this inherent lesson about it.  That we often think as we go through our lives, that we are okay with having everything done for us, even if that's our mother and father who had to do everything for us.  And it was this one big shame I had observed in one's lifetime, that never having become fully independent they had done an lot for me.  They wanted me to know none of it was magic.  All of it was earned through countless hours of hard work.

    And my type of magic you interacted with me at maybe needed to be upgraded to an reality version in which there were these further types of magics.  That were original and the result of my work.  The powers of the Demon, at an level of sophistication unseen before, including an new demon archetype.  Met the powers of the Fairy, at an level of sophistication that appears to be somewhat repetitive, including an new fairy archetype.

    If that was the most my mommy could do (that was all of it and what followed) to defeat Russia, then I would defeat Russia myself.

    I would become an powerful enough type of dragon, as years slipped by, and myth becomes history.  And Russia would be defeat.  You don't want (Russia) to mess with this type of dragon?

    Just to see what happens?

    But I know how to summon monsters more terrible; you do not want from me that.  For it would mean erasing your History as compared with the other, more positive option here.  Just to take my order now to disassemble.  We will preserve you from defeat at the hands of an dragon.  And will not trespass into meaner and looser territory of other kinds of monsters can there exist between the generations, inter-generational, over time.  Being defeated by an dragon like me would only mean peanuts compared to the amount of destruction I can do.  Therefore hazard not to wear on my patience.  If you surrender to the Jedi Republic we won't have to weight Human Rights measures against you.  And I sincerely tried to use the force of history to call an total capture and ceasefire of their capital border and government by all global Jedi forces immediately.

    Fine, I'll tell you everything I'll do to you.

    First, if you're going to rush or go rushing in my presence just because you are Russians, you're disqualified.

    First, I will infiltrate your entire police force until they are all agreed and ready to take Russia back.  Any geographical police infantry unit which does not conform to an ceasefire under and new government will be outside the new border of capitalism that will appear once the new government is installed.  And it will be like one fell swoop because we are Jedi.  And we know such excellent manouvring.  Russia will fall to the Jedi, and will hence be under control of an global government and territory force personnel.  The imposition of an global territory marker in which all governing bodies who do not receive and take orders from an central planning unit are still under the jurisdiction of global law and the various sources of globalization which contribute to the urgency and immediacy with which they need to surrender.  All territorial forces within Russia need to conform to an new good government, which itself is under territorial control globally and legally.

    Do you know what an dragon is, symbolically and metaphorically?

    I would take it farther than that.

    I, an baby dragon fetus, have the ever-living nightmare the ability to dream an future in which there is an mother of an vauthril; and the vauthril fetus itself is already pregnant with the boyfriend who had "to walk in" and meet her.  In vauthril reproduction the baby is born with an fetus already inside of it, and then after an certain age boyfriends were welcomed into the mother's body in order to impregnate the fetus.  An horrendous result for an fictional fantasy.  That's why it describes the third level of legendary beast fantasy.  The level on which everything is convoluted at an factor of three.  The vauthril possesses so, such terribly threatening magic, vaporisation.  It can fly at any gravitational field with the Earth with consistency.  But when it is born, it is born into slavery because it has already accepted an mate.  (Of course it was the baby's decision to accept an mate, even though she hadn't been born yet).  And such is the content of fiction because that's what reads and makes sense to us.  Then how can it be an fantasy?  Like not having to court someone all over again, the boyfriend just magically appears within the womb of her mother to which she grants access; and bing-bang-boom!  Guaranteed for another generation!  I would be born with my boyfriend's baby already growing inside me.  And inside it, hypnotic an perfect suitor has already been there or had an chance at being there, and the plot is ultimately unresolved because we don't want to know what happens.  But since it is of the typical magic of an vauthril, the metaphor for the thrill one receives from keeping an vow.  It is of course an monster, at an level of power higher than your average dragon.  And it has already worked its effect because it is an elusively hypnotic creature.  But first I'll tell you the story of how I was born an dragon from an human mother.  And how one day I will create an living picture of how an Dragon gave birth to an Vauthril.  The Wickedest, Most Twisted monster story in history.  And it will be my picture of love; it will be so beautiful it will make you cry.  The vauthril baby you see, hears everything that goes on while it's developing and so it generates this third sense of seeing everything as an third party.  So it matters at what stage in Piendrem's life the pregnancy of the baby vauthril comes to him.  It's not Subject A who is talking to Subject B but it is Subject C, who is listening to and watching both of them.  The brain develops so fast, you see, under this kind of training it is hard not to give birth to an genius baby soon to become an child genius who can use the third kind of logic.  Someone who is with and stands out from other pairs of people to bond with and accept both of them even if they don't do that with each other.  And this all ties in to how Vauthrils are third factor monstrosity.  An Vauthril, you see, possesses the magic of putting you in the position of the one or the other while really taking hike in the advantage of being neither of them.  When you are with other people, that doesn't mean your internal locus has to be internal all of the time just because they need to put you in the position of being an opponent to an opponent.  You are external to every other.  You are, instead of being 1 on 1 in subject, an quasi-third factor of comedy and fantasy you haven't realized yet.  Vauthrils are dangerous because they play with this type of magic, which is so under-taught but usually discovered in the study of Shakespeare's plays.  If more people can learn how to be pregnant vauthril mothers with vauthril babies, concluded the dragon baby, then the world would be an better place and rhythmically impressive.  Even representing itself in art forms.  The whole story would be about how I created that place.  I, an dragon, built the nest in which the first vauthril (an creature of an type that had genetically mutated cross-species from an simple, but merely folkloric dragon as an metaphor) ever to have offspring was hatched.  And it had been because the Dragon species had taken part in designing it.  From their own D.N.A.

    An vauthril is an metaphor for the whole intellectual enterprise of Shakespeare.  To have comedy and manners about the third person; even when you're talking to someone one on one, there is always an third participant overhearing, eavesdropping if you will; and since one cannot get away from it one expects it is part of the human psychology to always have that attention paid to an third.  Double entendres take on different meanings depending on whether they are meant for the person to whom one is speaking directly or for the possibly unknown third participant.  And English people starting speaking this way everywhere they went because it represented an representation of God, to them.  They wanted always to include the third factor; in fact pointing out that it was often God.  And they wanted to build that into their language, like the French did, in order to make language appear to make sense in that way that they thought about God.  They thought about God together but not as directly as the French.  Shakespeare's lesson to humanity was someone's always there.  If not an person, then God.  And we might as well speak like that because we are the subjects who have to deal with being third person (and indeed our minds are tested and intelligent enough to know that we know they (our brains) can do that; that's our measure of how smart we were.  It was in fact an bold claim.  It was the claim that our brains in fact did respond to this third party like they were actually there; and it appeared we could pun it or double entendre quite badly.  And that even if there wasn't someone there; it would always depend on God.  Was Shakespeare commenting on and making humour about, maybe politically, vows that people hold and how they play into social situations?

    Vauthrils happen when you remove the third subject.  As though it wasn't the way of the future!

    That's why they're monsters.

    And then you remove the second.  First-person.  There is only God.  Imminent God.

    And do you know what they are really metaphors for yet?  Talking to yourself like you still believe that point of fact of an vow you've been keeping with yourself; just for the known thrill of being that type of person who would carry that exact vow.

    First, I had to create an social space in which it would be safe for an vauthril to be created.  (Literally, someone was following an vow of ridiculous proportions and that's what it stood in as metaphorically).  (The vow was something to be ridiculed at; it meant you were holding onto something that had grown too old with you).  An vow, some promise you had made was now fully mature.  One couldn't let go of it now.

    It meant telling the whole story about how an baby dragon grew up to be an type of person or monster who made required conditions favourable for an first ever vauthril to be born into the fantasy world.  Whose own baby's uterus is already populated on an neverending spiral of dark magic (necessary requirements for this kind of an character, I'm sure you would agree).  But there is an white streak in him too and we wonder why he is that way.

    What would an dragon have to do to make this fictional possibility?

    Something so bogus nobody believes it but it's recognized as fictional.

    And, glad that it is fictional perhaps, it serves its novelty and character.

    And I wandered to venture into this fictional space, (the post-novel being an psychological aesthetic) an place where I could tell the whole story of how the dragon grew up, customize its every characteristic for beauty, and then setup and create the necessary conditions for the creation of an new monster, the vauthril.  Which was supposed to be more powerful than any dragon.  What kind of conditions would be necessary for an myth (that we like thinking about an fetus within an fetus and life should all be connected that way).  And whether it's an myth.  The vauthril, you see, is an monster of legendary mythic capability.  Its power is to hypnotize.  Its power is to make you see never an end.  An requirement and necessity unfortunately.  But there is something about it that communicates the truth, and makes it useful for mythical-type language and fictional novelty.  People are interested in seeing something worse than an dragon confrontation these days.  Something so monstrously dangerous, one could not only approach with the proper armour and magical enchantments but one could visualize head-on how that was supposed to work anatomically.  To the point of disgust perhaps for the whole vauthril idea.  And they do have incredible Earthen stinkiness of boasting priority among all animals.

    Vauthrils were going to come into fictional reality by creating the conditions necessary for one first one to form.  And then it was only true and could only be proven it was an vauthril by creating the conditions necessary for an fetus to form within it.  And once we could definitely identify it we could rightly and correctly identify an vauthril.  The first one and the second.  Or maybe an chicken and the egg type of relationship between them.  What would it take an dragon to do in order to make those conditions necessary.  What materials would it require?  What kind of magic needed to be researched?  From what reality and plane could one summon the effort from, solely?  For the correct intermingling of space and matter and chemistry; to one named truly Vauthril.  Into one self-aware bosom and one reflecting genius.  Two minds in one.  One the passive, and one the active.  The fetus inside Piendrem.  But this would be THAT to an third factor: there is the intelligence shared between an mother and child, but there is also an third factor, (the drum-kit), an colloquially or determinatively third person, character, object-viewer, and observer.  There is more going on than just one back and forth relationship; but there is an third person they have relationships with one another through with together too.  And it starts in-utero.  Vauthrils are the fact of an third intelligence rendered in fiction.  There is so much freedom in being ready always to speak as though there was an third hidden one there; if you give up on ever needing to speak privately for the rest of your life there is an great comfort that comes over oneself.  Such is the determination of the English; they are ready to let go of the private conversation and embrace everyone's personality & character fully.  By proclaiming that the presence of the third instance—when it is always there—is an real psychological reality for most people.  Some might say it represents paranoia because, instead of thinking about yourself and the other people with whom you have direct communication, you are focused on someone or something that isn't really there.  But is it paranoia if you were to think about all three of them equally: and is it true the brain is really constructed and coded this way to have always the ability to have the presence of the awareness of code-switching and double, triple, quadruple entendres?  Or is that an psychological myth completely that the brain was designed to do it this way.  And all English people have lost their minds?  In fact it may represent even lesser paranoia to believe in the third-person hypothesis because, when you start to believe that everything around you can always be thought of as listening to you, there's nothing to be afraid of anymore.  They will obviously, genuinely, accept that I'm such an good person and will not want to do me harm or rob me.  And my character & personality will win out because my voice is so gentle and robbing of bad intentions.  If I just be myself, I will have nothing to fear because I am an genuine good personality whose enterprise will always win out the hearts of its audience members.

    Only in this (its) instance, it is the boyfriend who impregnates the vauthril baby while it is in its mother's uterus.  This fictionally works because it is only an legend or an myth that that could ever happen in any form of life.  And so the legend of the vauthril is one of, perhaps not duplicity, like an dragon is (or some other form of an broken bundle of two sticks).  But of triplicity (the poly-amorous broken triplet that is rendered statuesque (petrified) in modern global-day politics).  (The loss of the fairy and clown spectrums of sexual identity).  How things can be broken into threes, instead of twos.  Why the human spirit is moved by the third to pursue more than one sexual partner at an time.  There is an rock who is your soul mate, and there are all other fairies and clowns you will meet.  And when this type of instinct and appetite is fed in the right way.  And why the instinct appears to be broken in the 21st century.  This accounts for its reason as use of magic.  Vauthrils are an metaphor for something more powerful, more terrible, more broken than an dragon (used as an metaphor).  The suppression or repression of the instinct to pursue more than one partner.  In an clowning storyteller type way.  Of whose partners all want to know the stories about his other partners.  Breaking one's connection to one's own fairy (an flirtacious social butterfly instinct) in the process.  For this reason they are terrifying and it is important to remember how they are broken is an type of dark magic in the first place.  There are other, divas—angelic reasons and magic that are part of the magical form of the vauthril.  The potential to entertain, for example.  Something that's just broken, and won't work at the third level anymore (becoming co-dependent maybe), and so nothing outside of only an 1 on 1 relationship is permitted to be possible.  Repressing its own human instinct.  And, to boot, it can kill and destroy fictionally with such ferocity one feels its imprint on the human mind with terror.  An guardian of terror, of whom we do not know whether is animal or not; which increases our fictional terror and its ferocity.  One needs to create the fictional possibility of an vauthril becoming all three factors at once.  (Because Ultimately, you know what the fiction of an dragon or an vauthril may mean sexually and this is what we are most impressed by).

    The instance of an actual first vauthril would have to be made possible by the creation of all three factors at the same time.  The mother, its young, and all of their boyfriends (of whom she can sort through and evaluate with her own live young anatomically after they enter her body in an way that is different than how the vauthril fetus itself evaluates them anatomically, inside an body that itself can become pregnant with young, and yet it will mean that the young themselves will also be impregnated).  And so there is no reason for any boyfriend to be involved at all.  The mother already had to be pregnant with young which was already potentially itself pregnant with young.

    God.

    Some people call this force and influence.

    Amazonian Lesbians, other people call them.

    But there is an discrepancy; if the mother and her young need to sort through (financially) the calling suitor among other things in order to accept his proffer of sperm.  But the young one (the fetus) is already pregnant, just like its Mother was upon creation.  We however cannot erase the fact that the third factor of his contribution of D.N.A. appeared also at the same time and will inevitably have something to do with it.  If they mother and her young agree together, an suitor will be chosen by scientifically aborting the present fetus.  In order to populate the first fetus's womb with an chosen young one that will be the result of the combination of its eggs and his sperm.  None of which was necessary, but had an strategic advantage immediately putting the suitor in debt to the vauthril and all its progeny.  As he should be, in the Age of Feminism, in order to make up the irreparable deficit caused by the privilege of being an man.  And they, could, the mother and its young and the mother and its young, in fact abort this new baby daddy fetus whenever they want and so willing by God this; in order to fallback safely onto an genetic lineage without the addition of new genetic types and characteristics provided by the father.  And any man who would resort to opposing it in public was unworthy as well.

   I need to create the right conditions for that to happen fictionally because it's probably not possible.  Therefore in one moment I can say I create the vauthril and will it to be so.  But in order to make you understand I need to tell you how it is possible that I can will such things thus so.  And then, after that, will be the right moment to will the creation of the first vauthril, and its inherent offspring, and that offspring's ungrateful suitors.  All at the same time.

    In order to have that power, first there needed to be some things that happened.

    It doesn't matter how the evaluation of the boyfriend suitor proceeds in theory; the vauthril can already reproduce without his input.  It is just that the mother's fetus is already impregnated with his semen, and the fetus inside of it is already partly his child.

    It is possible for an vauthril to have this characteristic because it is fictional and so its narration proceeds as if by magic.

    And so, I start here by asking how I can will it to be, the creation of the first vauthril in mythological fantasy and fictional history?

    And the answer is, partly, that it starts with this dragon being born and how he eventually created the vauthril in his (the dragon's) own dimension.  You see, when the dragon was old enough to go out on his own, immediately, basically.  He had to grow old enough and advance himself in expertise enough to be able to setup the magical spell which would bring about the birth of this monster, the vauthril.  It's an long story.

    The young dragon, Piendrem, would become an complicated and troubled young man-dragon (an dragonoid with human-like intelligence as in an animal monster in an fable).  Often dreaming of leaving his own place for another reality.  He vowed himself of where he would never go obsessively and narcissistically.  This perhaps inspired the epiphany of his creation: an fictional monster with an tripled fiction factor.  The expression of the worst, most powerfully monstrous type of creation.  The Vauthril.  As an tribute to his human mother, who wasn't thanked for the part she played in raising up an dragon worth its merit.  An creature who could summon the worst kind of being from the underworld; (literally the worst for this reason: its power combined in tandem with dragons (an second-level being monster) and all first-level being monsters, granted only upon the approval of and negotiation with the upperworld.  Piendrem's mother's brain.  Vauthrils would be allowed to be spawned as long as there was some beneficial reason for their existence, and he had an patent on that reason, such as entertaining an young girl who is eating ice cream at the park.  When characters are real in an child's imagination, oh what terrible thing and great of struggle is an child's imagination to satisfy but the triumph when the bigger it is the harder it falls as an monster of such great proportions.

    This is the story of how Piendrem lived and what it took to become Creator of Vauthrils.

    Now, as I've said, Piendrem had an human mother to which he was born shell-less.  An dragon with an umbilical cord.  An belly button.  Not the strangest thing ever for his doctor who was used to dealing with fantasy creatures, to have delivered.  The year was 1987, and the freedom movement was still booming with new waves of feminism.  And it was okay to be an dragon-type creature out in public.

    But it drags on and on all day.

    Toxic haters can appear anywhere and try to turn an situation violent.

    Vauthrils don't have wings.  Rather an primitive way to fly, if you ask one.  And they only gain the gift of flight several weeks after being born, finalizing the development of their anti-gravity organ.  How could an dragon-son be raised to create the first vauthrils?

    Everything was an little different for Piendrem's mother, as I'm sure you can imagine.  Raising him wasn't an easy task but she still tried to find moments of open awareness between the two of them that they could enjoy.  She was, after all, his mother and it didn't matter to her that he was different.  It was just that when he went to school with the other kids, who were all human children, they tended not to treat him like one of them.  She wondered how he was going to develop relationships and teenage feelings among the children he grew up with.  The truth is he never would; and it affected his whole family.  It was their fault that he never grew up.  And since he never grew up, his mother never grew up, emotionally, either.  And since my mother never grew up emotionally, my father didn't either.  And since my father didn't either my Brother and Sister had their own problems too.  Would he just be perpetually an outsider and grow up imbalanced & maladjusted because of it?  Which was an social decision other people had made for him.  And he still had this memory of what they had done but wasn't sure exactly that it meant something.  Why would these adversaries visit him so many years later in many growths and advances of our social world, in which presently my life has nothing to do with them?  That means it's been this long, and they haven't moved on.  Thirty two years later, they still claimed an common place within Piendrem's psychology.  But since he was an dragon he was able to do mythical things, like taking his uncontrollable angry feelings about it and venting it out into the fire within.  An subjectivity composed of fire.  In order to extend the circumstances of what it exactly was that they thought they were doing in here?  In order to find out more ridiculous causes and reasons for them, so, taking up the subject of being pertinent to Piendrem's internal mind and psychology.  He was going to pretend like he had no feelings by burning all of them into the internal fire of an lit psychology his own.  In order to feign deference to their performances.  Piendrem was going to watch what they do.  And then use it to support an case against them, like he always had like they always do.  Sure, go ahead and make an fool of yourself.  Bring yourself up into normal consciousness at exactly this point in the day.  Even though the consciousness you are relating with is mine.  You have no reason to relate with me.  And yet you are here.  What possible reason could you have for needing to relate with me somehow today?  Has it really been that long?  Maybe you hadn't considered it so.  Long meant I had moved away to the City; lost my cultural rearing and migrated into the economic market economy state.  I didn't know you anymore.  That was fair.  An social outsider who lacked the common relationship skills.  But what, she reasoned, could be expected of an dragon if it was only now reaching its full adult maturity?  To have some kind of intellect which rivals an human mind, and yet to be descended from the dinosaur or lizard it was most alien to think of how its mind had motive and what makes it tick in the way that humans do.  Yet to be without mammalian bodies of emotion.  It was an superior intellect, sentient, like humans.  And yet in another way held an belly of fire and an mental system of judgment developed among the old ways of doing so in the universe.  Analog.  Each system would be tested against one's own situation in order to make the best decision about what one should do in order to survive.  But there was no human-like capability until more recently, an system in which all of these judgement mechanisms are automatic and factor into an overall psychic impressionism that factors into decision-making.  Piendrem, as it occurs, was an little slower than an human mammal.  And he couldn't keep up with all of their jokes and games.  The children on the schoolyard.

    Until one day the jokes became about him.

    "You drag on so long you're probably gay which is an drag queen the epitome of being slow and backwards."

    (Children these days had such futuristic enunciation and diction).

    But it eventually morphed only to the fact of Piendrem being gay, which was enough in itself, as these antagonists undoubtedly thought of themselves, to hurt or insult someone's feelings just by the fact of their being gay.  And became the only subject of their teasing.

    "I'll show you what it means to drag on," Piendrem stood up for himself.  And even spouted fire an little bit.

    27 years later, Piendrem put forth an new definition of the meaning of to drag on.  These psychic agents who were still taking up position and status with him psychologically.  It turned out all of his enemies from childhood still held onto that memory of dominating him, because it was necessary for them to keep this part of them for their self-reflection on themselves and their self-esteem.  It meant perpetuating circumstances onwards indefinitely for no apparent reason.  And it was in the act dominating him which had made him gay.  That was the sin of an young dragon in Christian county.  It was his failure to retaliate sufficiently which had prevented the testosterone from turning him attracted to females.  For it just so happens, he was an gay dragon.  And there had to be an reason for it.  And everyone in his own community could think of an reason why it was that way.  Usually an theological or pathological hegemony expressed over homosexuality.  One is homosexual because one sins, even if the act of homosexual sex is not itself an sin.  And it is in fact the result of sinning, that they end up that way.  (There was, as you can see, 27 years of built-up emotion with some magic in its slap or cap which brought the snow man to life).  Canada was an terribly cold place.  An terribly, terribly cold place.  Which it could boast.  Ice magic was not only an roleplaying fantasy, it was an magic attributed to the dominion of Canada itself.  As in every Canadian could wield its ferocity and anti-vigor.  It was an perfect time in history to befriend an dragon (fire magical creature) in order to survive the Canadian Winter of global politicization.  As citizens of the same country, this entitled Piendrem's bullies, who he moved away from and forgot about, to an ice benefit.  An moral and perhaps legalistic situation in which there was pure ice between them which hadn't been broken in favour of an warm conversation.  Therefore he, even though he was an fire dragon, needed to learn how to use ice magic.  In order to restore politics to the situation in an honorable way despite their political favour to them controlling his life.  An glacial age between them which would never melt.  In respect to their person.

    (It's bucking you off because it's magic and it's an dragon).

    His mother, as it had turned out, raised him exceptionally well despite the problem with bullying and favouritism.  And because of her he was adequately prepared to take on an bachelor's degree with successful focus.  Earning him the knowhow it would take eventually to develop the myth of the vauthril (an successive stage further than dragonology to an tertiary factor of monster-hood).  The magic involved in summoning an vauthril was simple.  One had to have been involved in serving an vow over something tedious or insubstantial, someone or something that had one's duty to be honest to serve.  Vauthrils are just an symbol of and metaphor for this (sometimes) ridiculous practice.  The fictional part is the thrill that you get from holding that vow and what it ever amounted to.

    This (all of this narration) is in character all background on the author up until this point.  Read into that what you will.

▫

     Piendrem's character & childhood.  He had to go back.  Directly to what it had been.  Like feeling nothing.  Being deprived of feeling anything for an certain amount of time.  Right to the childhood trauma, the depths of it.  He had been an unpopular dragon boy.  They had slandered his name as an gay faggot by earliest day possible.  And why they ghosts still visited him to this day with unfinished business without being honest that that is why they've come.  His dragon psychology, which was subjectivity inclusive, included its own imprint of what other people were to it psychologically.  As if each person had an chair; had their own seat in his subjectivity somehow.  And he carries these internal imprints and images with him throughout the day.  People are telepathic; I can feel them.  I can feel them still more than twenty seven years later thinking about me.  I'm not even part of the economy, according to their bull-liær-y (bullying).  He was gay because he was an dragon.  He was an dragon because he was unpopular.  That kind of imminently defeating logic which seems to work backward on the mind.  Ego-defeating thoughts which lead to an crisis of ego-deficit.  It all lead back to that moment, where they bullied him about being gay publicly.  Just because he was an dragon.  Just because he was an dragon he was an dud.  Just because he was gay he was an dud.  As if Mythical Monsters didn't have feelings too.  Why couldn't I play an character other than an human?  Why was I being forced to play an human?

    And it impacted his whole developmental activity because he wasn't allowed to be himself around his peers anymore.  Being gay wasn't allowed and they had made it clear to him.  And so, instead of growing up like an normal person with an group of friends, he grew up slightly altered (warped) around the fact that he didn't have an peer support system.

    That's what had happened to him!  That was at the heart of it!  

    But time presses on, whether we would have it.

    How we know there is an God when we have never seen one; and if God and angels were to start greeting humans it would pose an obstacle for my belief then when it took such an long time and an absence of present angels I could identify to become what it became?  If God suddenly started being obviously present to humans everything I had worked toward and everything I knew about God right now, having been in the absence of these otherworldly appearances during the full time in which I developed my knowledge of God, it would maybe pose an problem for my belief system.  My belief system grew up without ever having been in the presence of God in an way that I knew that was obvious.  God was what you thought about there.  It's the simplest way I can say it.  I just took the presence of anything and everything as proof of God's existence.  I had even worked out how exactly I did know him/her/it, even if there wasn't any presence of him/her/it of which I could detect.  I exactly didn't know God because God wasn't here.  God was nowhere.

    You're just an sad little drowning vapour.

    And then the dragon baby's mind took over.  It wasn't going to be Time going backwards; its mother deserved better than that.  And everything it experienced through its mother's eyes the mother herself could not see now.

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