[Wonderful Labs] The Rumble of Thunder and Wonder

[Wonderful Labs]

Dearest Readers,

	GREETINGS FROM MALLEABLE POTRZEBIE!

	There's a hole in my head where the rain comes in, as the Electric
Light Orchestra sang, but that don't mean I've got an open mind.  Mister
Wonderful here, working with strange magic and e-evil women to bring
*you* a bit of starry wisdom in an otherwise fact-filled day.  Don't
thank me now!  There'll be time enough for that when the vats of Tiger
Balm arrive.

	I was creating my own pocket universe, complete with its own physical
laws, parallel dimensions, moral verities, consciousness-bearing
entities, miracles of delight, and pop music charts when Mister Malice
told me if I didn't clean that coffee cup *today* he was going to screw
my knees on backwards.  

	Some people have no respect for science.

	To console myself, I had the top Potrzebian barbecue chef come over for
tea.  I'd noticed a certain lachrymose aspect to his recent Long Pig
Happy Sauce Take-Out orders, and I thought he might have something on
his mind, something that I could take off his mind and maybe place on a
shelf somewhere dimly lit, away from his mind -- or perhaps put in a
column.  So I said to the guy, "Hey Hotpants LeGrille," I said,  "Hey
Hotpants," for that is his name, "Why's your meat got you so beat?  Who
put a fork in your pork?  What's so foul about the fowl?  Why you
depressed about the breast?"

	Chef LeGrille looked guiltily over at Mister Monkey (who was trying to
find a beret to match his necklace of human ears).  "It's not the food,
Mister Wonderful.  It's that things have changed since you arrived here.
 I don't know if you have ever been reading books by Alan Watts, Robert
Anton Wilson, Aleister Crowley and Lao Tzu at the same time as you're
taking a yoga class..."

	"Don't tell me," I said with a sympathetic (and *totally* sincere)
smile.  "They all start to sound the same.  Truth and hidden games and
breathing and meditation and going with the flow.  You can't remember
where you read what, and it seems stupid that these diverse authors
should all be hammering home the same points, but you can't escape it,
and it's driving you crazy that you *can't escape* notions of 'liberation'."

	"Not only that," he said with a shudder, unable to meet my eyes.  "It's
everywhere.  I... I opened a box of Cheerios the other day and the top
label read, 'Once your consciousness has been raised, it can never be
lowered.'"  His hand clenched suddenly around his purple teacup,
cracking it.  "*How* did all those *dead* motherfryers get a *cereal
company* to conspire with them?"

	Now was not the time to tell him my theory that this universe was
created by a Me in a higher dimension and we were all in imminent danger
of being rinsed in the cosmic sink.

	"Listen," I said.  "What in Sam Hill is a top chef doing with Cheerios
for breakfast anyway?"

	AND SO, it was then that Mister Monkey decided to let everyone know
about his revolutionary new SkinGun:  fires twenty banana peels a second
and ejects the fruit into your mouth.  

	We were all on the floor, sticky, for days.  

	The weapon's totally useless to all but the monkey kind, of course, but
Monsier Singe says that the revolution deserves every advantage it gets. 


Yours with a lust for life and a hankering for more,
MW

*****************
WONDERFUL LABS -  We Don't Play At Being God - We're Pretty Serious
About It
*****************

Mister Wonderful Recommends: Polite ways to scare the bubblefuck out of
me.  *Presentement*: The British Tarantula Society.

http://www.thebts.co.uk/

-- 
You take the high road and I'll take the Goo Goo Muck

	"Ah, 'tis midsummer madness, the music
	is in my temples, the hot blood of youth!
	Come, Kapellmeister, let the violas throb.
	My regiment leaves at dawn!"

		- Groucho Marx,
		"Monkey Business"

The Improv of Erehwon
http://www.wonderfullabs.com/tempe.html
http://www.livejournal.com/~ideaspace
http://www.cafeshops.com/apotheosis