HomelessInLaJolla's Journal: 140228 (La Jolla, CA, 92037, war v7.129a)

War in La Jolla, seventh year, one hundred and twenty-ninth(a) entry

http://mapfortu.wikidot.com/

Following up on the dome treatment, and along the lines of the development of the revolver...

Shro is hot suctioning your butt to the dome. Pick up a few leaves and press some. Humans, then, began to deserve the steam cleaning, the newer and younger ones wanted the same priveleges as the older ones. Begin at a time when falling asleep meant falling more or less into your bower in front of you, then progress to a time when you're lucky you have wings. Along that timeline the trees become upset and twist some into dogs, some begin the modelling project, and some begin finding juice pits. Juice pits become appealing to humans. The older, more experienced, humans have routes watching trees, knowing when their trees are going to leaf, and planning ahead for steam baths. Younger impetuous humans, or less experienced, or simply more of the idiot type, begin stripping trees and, in their steam bath, develop chlorophyll sickness. Experienced herbage growers know of chlorophyll sickness and proper curing techniques. Experienced humans watching trees expecting to leaf would have proper curing techniques for the leaves and, if they suction to the dome hard enough, maybe a small inoculation of methanol, wood alcohol from the leaf fiber, to assist in the chlorophyll sickness. The more impetuous humans, wishing to attain more or less the same effect, develop a friendship with the Lillith type humans hanging out in the juice pits all the time. The humans in the modelling project begin developing their own forms of "lair-n-get-us" as their dens and towers and labyrinths come in contact with things down below. Humans hanging off of the dome also begin playing massive synchronized swimming games, especially once the trees are low enough that falling asleep tests your frame of mind with the wings, and playing games whipping up whirlwinds under the dome. Please don't stir up the insects. Whoops, too late, in combination with the massive modelling project leading to "lair-n-get-us". Bugs come up from below on both sides of the wall and, although lower on food chain IQ, have far larger numbers and orders as high as phairies are quite capable at counting to IQ pushing forty or fifty, and that's quite useful to a population with those sorts of numbers. The Lillith type humans in the juice pits also develop the habit of chasing the real wildlife (has feathers, fur is for polymorphs, modern birds are all remote control and the other side of the result of fishing pole polymorphs). The true wild humans, the "prophets" (before mummy baby type prophet fully inside the model), are stuck with dwindling numbers and choosing friends. No leaves really left to press, all the workers have the routes covered, hacking their way down and stripping the trees, making excuses for the dogs running rampant everywhere. The ones inside the model are hardly much more help, but at least you get to sing with them. The prophets are so well trained that, inside the model, they often fall for the joke of "laugh at this and then walk down that ramp", facing the model's stand-in for them, chuckling a bit, and then walking through the door where the dumbwaiter phairie is waiting with an overlord dog. Later, as the evil of the world racks up, the prophets become --funroll-loops choirs of angels, stacking up underneath (we're not coming out until something is done about this idiocy in the world). They have the same problem as the prophets before them, who to spend time iwth, drunk animal idiots or lair-n-get-us stiffs. The choirs of angels like to sing and, by that time, the technology in the model world for the revolver is point and shoot. No need to walk the angels down the ramps, we'll ship 'em in boxes after we line 'em up in the loft and knock 'em down with the pellet gun.

The world goes to hell.

http://mapfortu.wikidot.com/