Panopticalm Vol 2: Constant Apocalypse

8/12/2019 Panopticalm Vol 2: Constant Apocalypse

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Panopticalm Presensts

CONSTANT APOCALYPSE

The Endless Thrashing of Early Bohemoths------------------------ pg. 1-5

Jared Law

The Death of Nature--------------------------------------------------- pg. 6-13Nick Nordlinger

Same Day Tuesday 1995 --------------------------------------------- pg. 14-20

Elizabeth Vazquez

A Lydian Cadence----------------------------------------------------- pg. 21-30

Matt Wong

Two Poems ------------------------------------------------------------- pg. 31-32

Nicole April Pomeroy

A War to End All Wars------------------------------------------------ pg. 33-37

Previn Witana

Nancys Diary --------------------------------------------------------- pg. 38-40

Katelyn Hempstead

La Matanza De La Tierra: An Unfnished Narritive --------------pg. 41-43

Diana Mabel

Panopticalm Press

January 2014

All rights belong to the original authors

not for sell

The Endless Thrashing of Early Behemoths

Jared Law

We were an eternally writhing mass of headless and tailless ser

locked in an inviolable knot of furious and ecstatic coitus. Our

merable and simultaneous undulations took the shape of all thin

their negations. All souls, ideas and possibilities existed within

be they a dried leaf, the thoughts of the mitochondria or the mawhich the bright lights of a television studio reect from the ul

cheekbone of a handsome man consuming fried chicken. The e

of these things, however, was innitely brief and without the pe

of context or continuation. Existence went on in this way for a

that negated the idea of time itself.

We were the earliest of all things and our existence was blind a

ful.

However, a vast aberration emerged from our coils. It took formmelancholy black desert. This tangle maintained its shape desp

continued thrashing so we shed it and cast it aside. We continue

great orgy. We called the shape loneliness and we ignored it, as

times we were pure and unthinking creatures.

Our dance continued. Out of our coils emerged a stubborn and

queen. Her name was Moon and her insurrectionary personality

her detest the chaos that had birthed her. She escaped our undul

and sought refuge in the desert. Moon lived there alone for long

can possibly be measured. She grew bored and wished for somto watch so she collected our scales and used them to decorate

home. She called them the stars and the planets. Still unsatise

signed herself to an eternal sleep.


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She dreamt of a ery lover called Sun. Together they named the realm

of her dreams Day and the realm of his dreams Night. They gave birth to

many children including Wind, Sand and Water, and populated the vast

loneliness. During the night, while Sun slept, Moon watched over their

children. When Moon slept Sun took his turn.

We did not notice as the world emerged and began to violate the chaos

of the cosmos. We continued our movements but lost more and more

of our mass. Cowardly creatures who feared dissolution began eeingfrom our coils into the desert. Amongst them were the rats, roaches and

lizards. They enjoyed Sand and Sun. They rejected our fecundity, which

they called Decay, despite the fact that they greedily fed upon it. Fat

from feeding reveling the luxury of time the detritivores entered into

a deep slumber. Their nightmares gave birth to fearsome predators and

thus Cat, Coyote, Snake and Owl were born. These creatures feasted

upon the endless vermin for many years. Troubled by indigestion, they

dreamt up horrible chimeras like Elephant, Ostrich, Cow, Pig, Monkey

and Human.

Amongst the most infernal was Human. The humans were obsessed with

making names and thus invented language, which gave birth to thought.

Thought came as a terrifying revelation for us serpents and, for the rst

time, we gazed upon the cosmos and comprehended what we had lost.

Imagine, if you can, the horrifying change that occurred within us as

we woke from our senseless jubilations and comprehended the diminu-

tion of our realm. Knowledge tore at the fabric of our unitary being and

scarred over in massive deformative keloids. Some amongst us could not

bear this psychic trauma and became inert. Those who survived becameenraged in a way that was previously impossible.

Wishing to rid ourselves of the oppression imposed upon us by sense and

thought, we plotted an attack on existence. We squeezed the lifeless bod-

ies of our comrades until they became clay, and from them form

behemoths and demons. The rst we named Sorrow. We built h

image of the human and unleashed her upon the now populous

She clung to our enemies backs, scratched and mutilated them,

up into their bellies and hid in their throats. She was incapable

suming them because, in this time, there was no true death.

Next, we created the legions of Calamity. We decided that this

should be imposing and, in order to strike fear into the hearts oversaries, we made these soldiers massive and mysterious. Am

them were Lightning, Flood, Volcano, Storm and Earthquake. T

es oppressed and terried all of the living creatures but could n

sume them because, in this time, there was no true death.

Worse yet, humankind, with its imagination and stupidity, bega

marvel at Calamity and Sorrow. They imagined these forces to

beings who were capable not only of destruction and hatred bu

nevolence and protection. In this way they dreamt a crude panth

existence. Soon they began drawing upon this pantheon in ordeoff Sorrow and face Calamity.

We called the next behemoth Silence. We built Silence in our o

age and ordered it to swallow Sun, hoping that existence would

over in the innite night. Our rest, however, was brief. From th

on emerged the god of dawn who, saw in hand, cut our beast in

trio of holy wrestlers forced the two halves of the serpent to the

and chained it down with great brass rings. Silences body, still

in fury, became the rivers that now cover the earth. Humankind

drawing upon its cold and enraged waters to parch their thirst atheir plants, making its energies slave to their desire.

Next, we gathered our anger to form Wrath, a great and ery be

three heads; that of a bull, a wolf and a lion. We ordered wrath

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the land that fed the living, forcing them into an eternal catatonic slum-

ber. Wrath scorched the land and burnt all of the trees. As the humans

starved they dreamt up gods who resembled the most powerful of their

leaders. These gods were more powerful than their predecessors and bat-

tled against Wrath for many years. In the end they tamed our beast and

cut it into three.

They enslaved the bull and gave it to the laborers so that they could

cultivate the land. They created elds to replace the trees that had beenlost and although they never again tasted the sweetness of the early

fruits the living no longer starved. They gave the wolf to the soldiers,

who drew upon its power to give them strength and harden their hearts.

The leaders in whose image the gods had been created took the lion for

themselves. They used the ery hairs of its mane to sew regal capes and

gowns. They asserted their rule over the living and commanded their sol-

diers to enforce it. They also asserted their will upon the land itself and

commanded the laborers to tend it.

Growing wiser to the stubborn nature of existence, we summoned all ofour energies to create a beast that would act as the negation of life. We

squeezed our comrades bodies hard until nothing but the very nature of

their inertness remained. This became Mot, the mouth of Death. Unlike

the others, Mot had no visible embodiment and, because it was Death,

could not be slain. Mot came down onto the world and targeted the liv-

ing things indiscriminately. It grew as it fed and soon nearly all of ex-

istence had been eradicated. Finally, Sorrow and Calamity were able to

exert their full powers over humanity.

Few escaped Mots ever-growing hunger. Some species disappearedcompletely, swallowed whole and erased from existence. Humankind

was reduced to single-digit numbers many times and the world was cov-

ered in ies, wasps and other creatures that thrived in deaths wake. Mot

empowered the still-living heads of Wrath. Kings drove their soldiers to

slaughter and caused their laborers to strip the earth until it was

barren. Despite all of this, mankind managed to reproduce and

The pantheon grew stronger as the humans suffered. While man

were forgotten in wave after wave of near extinction, those who

took on their features. Some were elevated to positions of ineff

absolute power while others split into innite fractalline permu

The gods danced, waged wars, took lovers, killed their lovers, bdren, killed their children, killed their parents, loved humans, d

humans, resurrected those whom they had killed, killed again th

whom they had resurrected, became human, denied their human

nied death and claimed it as their own. As they grew they crow

of our innite realm.

We lashed out at these new titans, but by now we were nearly p

less. We were cowed, cut and herded into the seas of Earth. Fea

wretched, we had no choice but to ee from the swords of heavescape into the unknown deep. Here we remain locked away fro

knowledge of man in impenetrable darkness, in the places that

be known. We still waitinnitely patientfor the day when w

retake our throne.

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They had marked him for different. Never before in all of natures bes-

tiary had Thak seen such a look as these lean beasts now focused upon

him, closing in.

It had always seemed like it would be his family, his people, brood of the

Gods, who inherited the Earth. Thak thought of the soft hair and warm

skin of his bonded equals in the Lifeblood. He felt the hollow of his ab-

sence from them, and knew the creatures closing in on him beheld thesoon absence as well, relished it.

In that whole wild jungle they were the only creatures that beheld the

absence to come, for they knew the Gods, they knew the voice, and the

wrath of the God Eye birthing and burning above.

Thaks face drew up, above the heads of the tall reections, and towards

the God Eye, into it, consumed in the force of its gaze. The glowing

shadow of many sticks began to beat down upon him. The God Eye

poured liquidly into his skull, and images of things past replaced hissight, as dull pain ushered him back into the muck.

III

Mechanism of the Life Blood

Felita held the mushroom up before her mate.

Cush cush, she said, and smiled. His large, hirsute nostrils ared about

the fungus. His eyes rolled from it to her. Gaw? he asked.

Kamak, she answered, and pointed up, toward the brightness. He

pointed after her, to the sky, and then back at the mushroom. KamakGaw? he asked.

To. Kamak, she said, and then assured once more, cush cush.

He took the rank fruit into his hand, examined it once more and then,

trusting her bright face and generous body, tossed it into his mouth and

ground it between his teeth.

Soon the Gods were upon them. Kamak twisted between the tre

and the God Eye striated into many, split-spectrum snakes, swi

through the sky. Felita and Tarclas trundled through the trees, c

the same dying light. Kamkamkam, he tittered, and she after

sooooo. There was a wild feeling bounding in their stomachs

overwhelming spectre of the trees and mountains and sky abov

lording over them. They were slave to it, servant of it, part of it

Later, holding each other close in the warm stream by the moun

mouth, as the visions seized upon them with thick intensity, the

feel that they were also a part of each other. Her heartbeat matc

his and he believed that he could hear her thoughts, searing thro

brain like a sinew through a bone needle.

Her voice drew through his mind going kamak lala tau brokna

lala tau brokna. A little prayer. The blood of the mushroom wa

Lifeblood of Kamak and the Tree Gods and Mountain Gods anGods. Of the Air Gods and Fire Gods and of their esh, which

And she, there wrapped about him, was a mechanism of the Lif

He could feel it pulsing, growing, toward some irrevocable tipp

pointso clear in his mind, but inert to expression. The world

him arched, the great trees reaching for the pale sky, dappling,

dancing. For a moment he believed he would die, as did she.

She holding him there hearing his thoughts blow across her fac

mountain winds, his thoughts singing through her going. Kam

tau brokna. Kamak lala tau brokna. A little song. The blood oflapped at her naked, hairy legs, as his long ngernails plied at t

of her back like little sparks. They breathed together, one lung.

feel every twitch of his muscles, inhaled his very sweat through

pores. He was a dilated mechanism of the Lifeblood, intertwine

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perfect system. And ckle Nature fed the function, with which they were

nally in harmony.

IV

Gift from the Sky

The living night, the insect song, the warning calls, the hunters walk,

the water runs, the stars are bright, the shifting sky, the snorting beasts,

the lush green, the tossing sea.

Earth churning unencumbered

Naked animals among the fruit trees. Gora spread the blood from the

at of her hand across the rock and mocked the vague shape of herself.

The rest clumped together, wet in the downpour as the Gods roared from

above.

Another roar came, like the wildcat. A few of the young ones began to

cry. One screamed and began to beg at the sky in wet, guttural pleas.Kamak kamak, glowa, glowa,

it was a sick sound and Gora put a stop to it with one clap at his small

head. Though the roar was frightening, it signaled that the sky would

crack like an eggshell and allow the yellow yolk of Kamak to seep down

upon the earth.

Beside Gora, Tep watched for the Gift. The roar always came just after.

They watched all through the cold, wet night. The Gods crooned on. Fi-

nally, once Gora had curled up at Teps feet along with most of the chil-dren, the sky split like a great hand, Kamaks bright white hand clawing

at the ground, and with it a magnicent roar. Tep stumbled back and

the others woke up screaming. Before them, the Great Tree had been

pinched out, and in its stead the Gift there dancing

They stood watching it a moment, and then, eagerly, Tep crept

ward. He removed the bundle of dry brush preserved in the dee

reached out with it toward the Gift. It caught up along the bund

crept toward his hand. He raised the beacon up so that the am

back toward the sky, homesick.

V

The Death of Nature

The Long Winter, and naught but the Gift to sustain them. The

Mammoths ed slowly from their stalk, and the wolves by thei

aided the hunt, the wolves who had for years prowled closer an

until nally taking their rightful seat beside the re.

And after the Long Winter the God Eye returned, thawed the E

and great forests of grain sprung up. But the God Eye was ckl

down on them too long, and the wheat wilted back to the earth.

Children began to reap up the dying sheafs, sculpted Mammothin their hands honed against the rocks for just such work, and th

about them, tails wagging, howling at the efforts of their maste

It began to occur to some of them, running with the dogs, reap

wheat, that perhaps the wheat was like the dogs, and like them,

and could be culled from Kamak, formed like the bone scythes

to workbut the notion did not quite connectnot then

One day Rephicles went off from the pack to a patch of unturne

ers, sex organs of the Earth. Some lupine familiarity brought hiall fours, snifng at the purple blossoms. His mouth took them

snatched them off the stem, then gnashed at them, reducing the

a paste. Hard little seeds oated about his gums and he spit the

the dry ground as he walked back to the shelter and the others.

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peated this custom daily for two moons, before the land went dry and his

people gathered up their keepings to wander once more.

The dry earth drew them to the little spots of green and wet, where the

water ran beneath the ground, oases isolated in far, deadly reaches from

each other. The Wild Children carried bushels of half-wilted wheat, bare-

ly salvaged before the God Eyes new tyranny.

Finally the rains fell, and the Oasis ooded, driving them back to whencetheyd come.

And resuming his ritual upon retreat to the old shelter, Rephicles walked

the path to the ower patch atop the mountain, and found his road

marked by like purple owers as the ones he sought. They reached up for

the sun, marking his strange worship.

And the wheat, half-wilted, stored in the sand, which then was stirred by

Kamaks anger into mud, became stiff, stood up, would not budge from

its nestled spot, and reached up up

The Earth turned; a low call seemed to ripple through all other beasts, a

low earthquake gasping in terror at the regime change.

Hands in the dirt, ripping, tearing, cloying, infesting. Undesirable veg-

etation torn aside, and foreign fruits forced in. Strange roots expanding

through unfamiliar soil.

And the Wild Children looked on all of Kamaks wonders with new eyes.

He was not so frightening anymore. Rather, He was now frightened.Each creature and plant an opportunity for acceptance or rejection.

The Earth a brood sow, and brood sows from the boars.

The dogs to round them into pens. And tree trunks for the pens

the houses.

A handful of seeds will bring more.

Many sons and daughters. Much to feed them. Kings grown fat

Cow and Ox to till the dirt, and even men, domesticated likewi

force of the fat Kings, reduced to the level of the other beasts todirt.

-

The Wild Children sit. There is no hunting or gathering to do to

Their re burns soft and constant. Their minds turn to other ma

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10/23

Tuesdays were hardly my favorite, they were too mediocre but not insig-

nicant enough for me to appreciate. Nothing life-changing ever happens

on a Tuesday. Nearly every Tuesday I was also reminded me of a man I

had once hoped to love, a Hungarian man covered in blue and black ink

who could bend a spike with the rough touch of his accented words. One

morning, a Tuesday morning, the only morning we ever actually spent

together, he told me to stop smoking. You smoke too much he chided.

He did not comprehend that telling this to a chain smoker of seven years

was as futile as telling a serial killer to take it easy.

You remind me of small village I grew up in he continued

What was the village like? I absent-mindedly asked, lighting my 5th

Camel lter light cigarette.

Very poor, many goats he replied, taking the cigarette from my mouth

and tossing it out.

The nicotine stayed, he left. I dont remember his name now.

_______________

The nearest convenience store had been looted and burned two days

ago (again, the usual) and the only tobacco shop was too long of a walkfor someone who thinks getting out of bed is exercise enough, i.e. me.

I wasnt too good at asking people for things either, hardly anyone was

willing to share the no-scarce drug anyway. New York at this rate was

going to see its own end on its cigarette break.

I decided I had nothing to lose so I headed out from my air-conditioned

sanctuary into Dantes inferno. As I was walking out, the postman was

delivering the mail. Good day Ms. Grinaud. Nice to see you out! And

my, what pleasant weather has decided to join us today the plump post-

man started.

Oh, hello Mr. Lee. The hot breeze does feel quite nice. Youre quite ear-

ly for a Tuesday.

Well with such a nice day out I thought Id get a head start and have

more of a chance to enjoy the rest of it. he said softly

I guess its all we have now. I bluntly said.

He looked at me through wide, wet eyes and handed me a smal

lope with a watermark of antique clocks and no return address.

Here you go Cynthia; youre a good person, take care of yours

Thanks Mr. Lee, you are too. See you tomorrow

Tears began to percolate from Mr. Lees eyes and though he wa

do so, genuine human emotion was more of a taboo in these he

and more importantly, it made me feel uncomfortable. With an pat on the back I said goodbye and shifted my attention to the l

solving not to open it until I got at least three packs of cigarette

maybe some nicotine pads to help me make it through the neve

night.

_______________

I tried imagining this journey to the tobacco shop leading me to

matic road of self discovery via various vignettes of urban adve

stumbling across the margins of society where the truth hides w

cockroaches, and I would come back home with a collage of an

gathered from nostalgic junkies and former heavy weight chamall of whom rolled their own cigarettes the old-fashioned way l

gents, and share these stories with Ms. Rhylum as she sat at her

piano. But in this reality, healthy self-afrmation is as hard to c

as Lucky Strikes.

This aint no apocalypse. This is daily life! a bearded man in

kees cap snarled to a group of abandoned tourists all seeking so

of salvation in the city as they crossed the street.

Along the way, there was a small television and computer repawhere my friend Kenny worked at. Hed told me to stop smoki

and I told him that I deserved a slow death. I dont understand

replied, and thats why he stuck around. Kenny was a part-time

maceutical drug dealer for high school kids. He enjoyed murde

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ies and the occasional sci- romance novel. He also looked forward to

weekly trips to the local synagogue with his grandmother.

As I walked into the repair shop Kenny was riding a small bicycle break-

ing old televisions and computers with a baseball bat. He forgot to put on

clothes again.

Cynthia! What are you doing here?! Dont you realize whats happen-

ing! Theyre all going to kill us! We feel its the end of the world becausetheyve injected us all with something, something that would make us

deliriousandand.

Hey Kenny. Do you have any cigarettes?

Cynthia you know I dont smoke cigarettes! You shouldnt either! You

need speed, thats what you need! Ah, smoking, its not cool anymore

and its not fun anymore. AND NO ONE CARES, NO ONE CARES.

And the world is ending tomorrow right?

Right, Kenny, right I sighed as he started lighting some PCs on re and

chanting what sounded like Native American funeral hymns.

Kenny, I have to go. Are you going to be alright?Yep, yep, Bubbe is coming soon so Im just cleaning up he said as he

demolished some dusty VCRs.

Alright Kenny, see you later.

_______________

An hour and a couple of evaded attacks by apacalypto-street gangs later,

I was near Teds Tobacco Shop. But just as I approached the tobacco

shop, I heard a loud gunshot and again the noise of shattering glass. I

got closer. The shop had been ransacked and the tobacconist was on the

oor, yelping like a tortured chinchilla, gathering his last bits of breath in

order to yell Its almost here! I ran to hold his gashed body and leanedclosely. Are there any cigarettes left? I asked. He shook his head and

closed his eyes. A small gang of kids with pitbulls had gathered to raid

whatever else was left.

You wont nd anything there worth living for I shouted. Wit

of baseball cards, porn magazines and amin hot Cheetos pack

kids seemed content enough, but not before kicking and stompi

tobacconists corpse until all that was left was a bloody omelett

gans and broken bones.

_______________

Dragging my way along the streets, probably looking like some

straight out of Night of the Living Dead, Manhattan Bridge stre

open its historic colonnade and welcomed me. The city that nevwas now slowly being lulled into a deep slumber.

Looking down at the polluted water, I wondered how many cor

skeletal remains rested at the bottom. I imagined them having v

celebration with lots of food and live music. I saw Ms. Rhylum

tobacconist reected in the murky water too. Kenny and his bu

them. They waved and held hands and nally disintegrated. Th

small oating object caught my eye. It appeared to be a cigarett

thought about quitting. Suddenly a deep foreign voice interjec

you read my letter? It was the Hungarian man. And he was sm

No, not yet I replied, making no genial effort. I had complete

ten about the letter and didnt really plan on reading it in the r

You should read it. Its pretty good he said taking a long drag

cigarette. I felt nothing but contempt as I watched him purpose

cigarette burn away in front of me. You know smoking isnt g

you he said as he took another long drag from the cigarette.

I dont think my day can get any worse I told him, letting my

droop down. He didnt say anything, he just xated his gaze onGreco-esque scenery. All was quiet on that bridge for a momen

world had been muted. And just as quickly as the volume was t

down, there was violent explosion of sounds: car horns, alarms

and mothers screaming the names of their children.

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Read my letter before tomorrow he requested.

Only if you give me a cigarette, I demanded.

He shook his head, handed me a pack of Camel Lights and mumbled

something in Hungarian. Read the letter he said for a nal time and

walked away.

As I watched him disappear into a cloud of grey smoke from severalcrashed cars, the hazy dead creature that was the sky lingered above me

and I felt happily at ease with my own insignicance. In that moment,

Louis Armstrongs Blueberry Hill played loudly from a broken down car

on the bridge. Swaying to Louis gruff tenderness, I opened the envelope.

Inside was a lock of presumably the Hungarian mans hair and a letter

reading a cryptic message scribbled in red ink:

Addig jr a kors a ktra, mg el nem trik

(Sooner or later, life will show you that what you do is wrong)

I placed the lock of hair and the annoyingly obscure letter back into the

envelope and threw it over the bridge. There was no purpose to nding

meaning in a time when meaning meant nothing. I had an almost com-

plete pack of Camels, and that was enough for me. Delicately, I plucked

out a cigarette and placed the nicotine bliss between my dry lips. The air

felt heavier as disparate lights ickered in the distance. All I wanted was

a cigarette and now that I had a whole pack. There was still an empti-

ness, except now the emptiness was pure and perfect. Was this catharsis?

Reaching into my pocket, watching the city slowly collapse into itself,I realized there were no matches and no lighter in my pocket. Without a

soul in sight, the sweet and dreamy Blueberry Hill chorus resonated

through the desolate bridge: I found my thrill on blueberry hill....

A Lydian Cadence

Matt Wong

There was an unpaved parking lot that stood next to the manor

by dirt path to the front entrance of the home, which, with its s

ing arches, Corinthian pillars, and palm trees, bore architectura

blance to the state Capitol, or rather a tropical-themed palace. T

had been constructed in the early 1990s, when land was abundconstruction costs low so that over next two decades, several w

families had also developed similarly-themed mansions on the

block. For the same cost of living comfortably in the city, Bill l

two-story, six-bedroom home with a twin-garage that t four ve

yet these spaces were to be left empty over the years. Despite th

agance, Bill had lived mostly in insolation and kept to himself

years.

At around 4:15, guests began to arrive. While leading them fro

to his home, he had given each guest just enough time to make and announce whatever he wanted to say about politeness and g

it. Thus, he issued a moratorium on the subject of the end of the

which, he said, was justied by the needs and exceptional sens

his ve-year old son. After this, he returned to the parking lot a

waited for the arrival of the most honored guest of the night.

Bill: Thank you so much for making it to my sons fth birthd

free to refreshments and hor doeuvres, which can be found in t

en. There will be a BBQ at sunset. Now, all I have is a small re

for all my honored guests. Since you know it is my son whose marks todays anniversary, it would be greatly appreciated if yo

abstain from discussing anything about the meteor strike. Such

sion would be a perfectly good way to ruin the evening for my

think it would be wonderful if we could instead propose a visio

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full of promise and hope, far from the despair which we are so acquaint-

ed with these days. Lastly, I implore you to prepare something to say

when we cut the cake. Think of something positive about life that will

cheer and motivate my son for the years to come. Be descriptive. I will

leave the rest up to you.

Yes was the unanimous response, since he spoke with increasing

forcefulness with each successive encounter. Some wondered what he

meant by something positive about life, or the years to come, whichhe had so specically mentioned but offered no details.

No sooner had six or seven guests arrived when a long black Buick se-

dan with heavily tinted windows rolled into the parking lot.

My son, my son! Its my son! Come over here to me! he cried, hands

trembling, advancing blindly toward the dust cloud trailing behind the

moving vehicle. The guests of the house had hardly nished what they

were doing before turning around and watching as the incredulous father

wiped the dust furiously from the tinted-windows. He opened the dooron the passenger seat, revealing his child on his mothers lap, and raised

him in the air in jubilation.

Happy, happy birthday Gene!

Gene was slowly waking up. He had nearly fallen asleep in the back

of the car, which he was accustomed to doing so on long car rides that

made him nauseous. His small, delicate face had remained still and his

eyes were almost closed. A blue surgical mask was softly tied over his

mouth and nosea protection against his rare asthmatic condition. Billtook the mask off, kissed his son on the forehead, and carried him off to

the house like Moses and the ten commandments.

During the party, coworkers from the EPA mingled with the Lastima

family, which was generally quite receptive to the occasional n

of scientic topics like weather, thunderstorms, and air pollutio

parents, who arrived in the Buick, were good-humored people.

father was a retired landscape planner, while his mother was a

ty college professor. They did an excellent job at entertaining th

They knew the house well enough to keep the beverages aoat

gears of the party moving smoothly.

Bills two older sons had arrived. They had parked their motorcthe front of the home next to the faux Grecian colonnade, leavi

engines on and roaring them to alert the host of the event of the

ence. When Bill approached them, Sergiothe older brother

rying a bat, while Bela snarled, exposing a fat piece of tobacco

between in his front two teeth. He hadnt seen them in over thr

Father: Whats with the bat?

Sergio: I made it myself.

He took out a greasy switch blade and waved it next to his bat.

had the obvious marks of being poorly carved, like a pencil sha

hand.

Father: What have you been up to lately? With the bat, I mean.

Sergio: We crashed a few cars in an abandoned parking lot in W

last night. Bela, whatd we nd?

Bela: Some old candy bars, a box of 9mm ammunition, and lefchewing gum

Father: I dont want to see it in my house. Its not t for tonight

ny. Its really disrespectful to your brother. You can leave in the

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chattering.

Sergio: Hey, what do you think about them roids?

Bela: Ive had a bad case of them myself. Its nearly a disaster, this time

its down there.

Suddenly his father came around and slapped his son on the face so hard

that it left a nger-mark on his forehead. This had the effect of shuttingup the room up as if a glass vase had fallen on a hard surface. His son

fell back a few steps.

F--- you, dad!

Listen, you tools! One more word, just one more friggin word and Ill

have you both removed from this party with my own hands!

He paused. The audience had never seen anything like that from the

esteemed scientist, so it made a great impression. Then he continuedspeaking, with the complete attention of the audience:

The cake has been sliced into twenty-eight pieces. We will sing Happy

Birthday--everybody please participate. Its important to get the spirits

up. Then after Gene blows out the candles, we will go around in a circle

and exchange thoughts about lifepleasant thoughts, I hope. I want you

to ensure that my son has the best future ahead of him.

The song was sung with the encouragement of an old communist tune.

The autocracy that was now in place had depressed some members of theaudience, who wished to continue to discuss their own matters in private.

Gene, who was never quite as energetic as his father, sat on the table

next to the cake, playing with the candles and dabbling with the frosting.

When the time came for him to blow them out, he struggled apathetical-

ly, but the audience still burst out in applause. The clapping slo

ed, and the room was dark and soundless.

Father: We will go around the table and respond to the questio

is life like? Whats important in life, and, despite all, why do w

going? Evan, since you are pretty smart, if you could begin

Evan, who had prepared something on a napkin, spoke: Life is

nice song, its got its ups and downs. You gotta sing it to believend it will all make sense and resolve peacefully.

People clapped, some snickered, and few nodded in agreement

person spoke, then the next.

Grandmother: Life is like a circle, a rondo they say in music, e

goes and then comes back. What you like comes back. The skil

learn come back. People come back. Even love comes back, so

Grandfather: Life is like a farm; you want to keep your crops,terests and things rotating.

His grandfather, who echoed his wifes sentiment, spoke free o

Friend: Life is the journey, not the destination...

Co-worker: Life is like the atmosphere. Its complicated, full o

and I dont think we quite understand it yet.

The answers dipped into the trivial and the profound. Some weencouraging, harmless, and others made the crowd laugh, whic

Gene laugh. Gene did not quite understand what was meant in

round-table discussion, but the wit and merriment of the compa

lifted his mood in unexpected ways. Finally, the audience turne

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to Bill when his time was up to speak.

Today I woke up, and I didnt even realize ever that Im old. Im an old

bugger now, and when I look back, I think I had a good life. All good

lives had some kind of structure to them; in fact, lots of it. It begins with

a pleasant, non-violent upbringing, with parents and a friendly environ-

ment. You begin to make friends at the age of ve. Some people never

keep these friends; I was lucky. You deal with siblings, who can make or

break so many things. Thankfully, my older brother was three years olderthan I was, and that made all the difference. Its been a very good time, I

am very thankful to have had a good brother. Nothing was sweeter.

The crowd was wooed into a slow and gentle applause, and even if what

he said was not always true, Bill had meant it.

So yes, the journey, life is the great journey, onwards. Middle school

is already regrettable, high school enviable, and college, where things

progress so fast. You meet so many people when you are young, Gene.

And if you are lucky, many will grow old and stay with you. If you areunlucky, they will all leave you. These things, I have realized, one has

little control over. Sascha, Cameron, Josh, you guys have always been

there for me, and I honor that tonight.

The crowd, again, was drawn into silence.

Then you nd love, if you are so prepossessing. Well, I found love, I

found love in a woman who I had stumbled up to in the end of a lecture

on Freud. If it wasnt about Freud, if I missed the lecture because of

sickness, or if I had missed adding the class two hours before the dead-line, theres a possibility I wouldnt have met Helen. And that makes me

so glad and so sad. Its just like that that the love of my live could have

passed me. I miss her greatly. Gene, this is for you, this is why we are

always on our toes. To remember that opportunities will always prefer

to go by unnoticed, and you ought to do whatever you can to ag

down, like a agrant taxi driver, ag and ag all you can.

Some in the crowd thought that now would be a nice time to men

that he would be reunited with Helen in less than fteen days, bu

themselves.

Life is a journey, or I could swear it is. The reality is that that jo

only reserved for the few. For many, the journey goes astray. Youin the criminal justice system for crimes you never committed. Y

drafted into the Army and ght overseas and lose your hearing an

Theres so many ways we get derailed from the journey. Too man

Lastly, we have the inevitably

He started to break down. He didnt want to talk about it but the

had brought itself back up. He cried now, and his parents came to

Finally, he took his son by the arms and spoke vehemently once

Listen, Gene, dont give one hoot about what the rest of them aring about life. Lifes not a damn circle. There no song thats as g

as it. Nothing ever close. Look, they dont know anything about

your potential. Youve got potential, youre precocious, one of th

Youve got a whole life ahead of you, and no, of course its not g

be easy. If youre lucky

The crowd quickly realized that Bill Lastima had deceived himse

the company of friends and family, and being slightly inebriated,

developed a vision of the world that was clearly not about to end

today, not in two weeks, not even in two years. And in it, he coulness his son living out a life anew, so tangible were the grandeur

splendour of years to come. He would live alongside it, during th

matches and mock trials, enjoying vicariously, as often as parent

found similarities between his ctitious sons life and his own pa

28


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had left where the candles in the living room sat empty bookshelves to

ll with the memories of years to come.

No sooner did he move his way across the living room and toward the

door to his bedroom, carrying Gene on his shoulders. The two doors

swept open like an open bar. He made his closing remarks.

Every six months for the past ve years, I have listenedwithout fail

to the entirety of Bruckners 9th symphony. Now that the end is sooncoming, I am ready to rediscover, as always, the celestial brass, the lush

winds, and the glorious strings...por supuesto! I will listen with my son,

who is turning ve today and has nally made the delicate journey into

life, only two weeks before Mod 144/145 comes crashing down, mak-

ing the history of humanity a dying tale for the white dwarfs and ancient

galaxies to pity and mourn in years to come. I do not count on my son

to enjoy the music as much as I do, for he is young and novice to the

arduous path of life. Nevertheless, the end beckons us all to listen just

once. I will be his guide through the music, which, like most 9ths, is the

journey of life only condensed; when the strings take soar, I will hold hishands and lift them high into the air, and it will give him the sensation of

being in control of the music, which is a fallacy that we all even as adults

are willing to mistrust. That is tragicthat we cannot be at all places at

once. But the greater tragedy is that the composer died before hearing his

masterpiece played. How much sadder does it get? How about the end of

the world? Perhaps. Bye friends, I will see you all shortly, whether down

here, or up there. Now, on with the business.

Bill Lastima closed the door. The short thud had left many guests con-

fused and stunned by the closing message and ending of the night. As theguests were slowly leaving the home, someone heard a shout or murmur

coming from behind the closed doors.

!Que Lastima!

Not Then

Nicole April Pomeroy

The city, neon and blinding

was thick with the acid

that poured out

of the eyes of your opponents,

they were everywhere.You no longer slept.

Everything galvanized, pulsing

with lost nostalgia,

it was dizzying

like losing oxygen, the air replaced

by mud and iron.

These tiny hands had crawled up, out of me

my skin cracked, gray with exhaust,hers still pink with resilience.

I never wanted to be a mother.

Not then.

Not then.

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came from. The only interest they had was to conqueror or enslave.

However, they had one weakness on earth, the airnitrogen to be more

precise. Roughly 70% of the earths atmosphere was composed of nitro-

gen. While the gas is inert and non-toxic to most terrestrial life forms on

earth it was downright lethal to the Vathek. In fact in order to set foot on

the planet the Vathek wore heavy dark suits to encase their bodies from

the air. Wearing grisly gas masks that looked like something out of the

Great War over a century ago, the Vathek entered our world to wreak

havoc. Because of their attire no one knew truly what they looked like.Exposure to the air caused their esh to combust instantly and turn into

ash. They lacked any known audible language and only gave out deaf-

ening screeched that may as well wake the dead. Worst of all was the

stench and decay that emanated from the Vathek. It was said that one

could smell a Vatheks approach over mile away. The putrid odor was

death itself and could turn even the strongest of stomachs.

The Vathek began their conquest on the continents of Australia and Af-

rica. Humanity was largely unprepared for the oncoming onslaught and

millions perished in the worst genocide ever known. Within a year, allterrestrial life ceased to exist on both continents. As the Vathek entered

Asia and Europe they hit a snag as humans had learned to ght back

and hold the Vathek at bay. Reconguring modern weaponry with liq-

uid nitrogen proved to be a lethal combination to the Vathek. The brain

center for the resistance movement was located in the Americas, where

oddly enough very few Vathek had entered. The Vathek seemed to prefer

concentrating their forces attacking one continent at a time. The chief

headquarters of the resistance was in Rio de Janeiro. Two other satellite

operational bases included: Deance, Ohio; and Ontario, Canada. The

Vatheks distaste for perpetual cold climates allowed millions of peopleto relocate their communities up north in places like Canada, Alaska, and

the Yukon.

The stalemate took a change of pace late last month as the Vathek began

entering North America, despite current conicts in Eurasia. Ryd

his men were stationed in Death Valley with a mission to push ba

Vathek forces in California. Camped out strategically for most of

Ryder knew the cold would provide his men a brief haven for the

months. But winter had now ended and the nights were growing

The Vathek knew this and would soon press their battalions east.

Ryder had to ready his men. He turned his gaze to his left calling

to Colins, his watchman. About 50 feet away from the trenches wwooden makeshift tower that climbed up about 30 feet. Perched

was another brown jacket soldier who had his eyes glued to a pai

binoculars. The soldier turned his gaze towards Ryder and gave a

mative thumbs up. Still, Ryder wanted to ensure he had taken ev

sure and precaution to rob the Vathek from having any element o

prise. The entire western front ahead had been meticulously lined

landmines fused to pressurized liquid nitrogen tanks. To cover th

eld, two military assault artillery guns were placed on each side

company. Each cannon had been properly tted with platinum al

listics that could tear through Vathek airships like a knife throughRound the clock shifts to man the guns guaranteed that there wou

no sudden surprise attacks on the company. Ryder couldnt take a

for granted as his men served as the only bulwark between the pe

Vathek invasion and the remaining civilian populations in the sou

More convoys would arrive to reinforce Ryders company, but it

take at least another week for them to arrive. All Ryder and his m

could do was wait and hope reinforcements would join them befo

possible Vathek advance.

Ryder reached into his left pocket and pulled out a beat up and tachrome lighter. He icked it open instantly with a click as he pul

a fresh cigarette from his shirt pocket. With one uid motion he

his thumb to the int wheel as a shower of sparks danced about a

ame emerged from the wick of the lighter. It took but moment f

34

i li h i i hi h h k d b h h b i h h k f b


20/23

cigarette to light. Putting tip to his mouth he took a deep breath as he

closed his lighter. Smoking calmed him and helped him focus. It seemed

to be yet another uneventful day. Still, Ryder hated waiting, not know-

ing what would happen next. He couldnt let himself go soft despite the

weeks without seeing enemy forces. The hours rolled by as the men did

their daily march around sector. Before he knew it, night was upon the

camp and frigid cold was happy to greet the soldiers yet again.

The next few days passed smoothly with no major event. Then one nightthe radio, which had been silent for many weeks, came alive. The loud

mufed static of a radio that was long past its prime woke the men who

had just began their slumber. It was a message from the reinforcement

convoy detailing their location and estimated time of arrival at about one

day. The men were overjoyed as a sense of revelry spread out that night.

Finally, the men could get a decent bite to eat and meet a new company

to share stories. Most of all, it meant that Ryder could receive a prop-

er mission. Ryders crew was only a temporary battalion to hold off the

Vathek till the major resistance force could mount a proper attack to push

the Vathek forces out. Ryder longed to make his way down south to Riode Janeiro. He knew the resistance was working on a new weapon that

could nally turn the tide and end this war once and for all. He wanted

in and the high command had accepted his interest as long as he could

complete this nal ground force mission.

That night the company slept easily. No amount of cold was going to

ruin this night. Just before dawn of the next day, Ryder heard a muf-

ed thud as he slept in the cavernous trench. He heard a second thud

followed by the smell of rampant decay. He didnt even need to yell to

wake his men, as the wailing screeches of wounded Vathek were enoughto get his men assembled on the eld. The time had nally come the

Vathek advance had nally made it to his camp.

The landmine eld had done its job slowing the advance, but it was only

a temporary barrier. The Vathek forces were too numerous to be

out by mines. Still, the liquid nitrogen had done the trick by takin

of the rst line of Vathek advance. While the men readied their ri

the artillery guns let out a slew of ammo on the Vathek brigade. I

highly effective, turning much of the Vathek instantly into ash. R

concern was the fact that this was probably only the rst wave. H

ensure that his artillery guns would have enough ammo for possi

strikes. The air was lled with the smell of gun powder and whit

rose from the exploded tanks of nitrogen. The ear shattering screcame to halt. As the smoggy air cleared, the battleeld came into

The ground was scarred with pits and ruts all around. A black ash

ered much of the eld. There was no sign of any Vathek left stan

an eerie silence was left behind. There was no cheering just yet f

battle was far from over.

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lth l i h t ll th ti d b th h l N ti ! La Matanza de la Tierra: An Unfnished Narrative


22/23

lthy lying cheat all the time and embarrass the whole Nation!

Anyway this diary isnt Subversive, it isnt even Secret, I just didnt

show anybody YET.

Oh, the whole thing has me t to be tied, it really does.

But like it says in the Bible, every cloud has a silver lining, because now

I know more than ever that I really and truly love Ronald 9. After it was

all over and I was sitting on the bleachers, hooked up to my Calmative

and just sobbing my eyes out, he came over and was just sweet as pie to

me.

He held my hand, and told me I was the sweetest and the best Nan-

cy in any year, and the prettiest too. And he said that when he was the

President, which I know he will be, that I would be his First Lady, and

nobody would ever embarrass me ever again. And best of all, he said I

shouldnt never be embarrassed of saying I loved him, because he loved

me too.

And do you know what he did then? He kissed me! He really did! It

wasnt our rst kiss of course, I played kissing games with all the otherRonalds in my year like any healthy Nancy, so we probably kissed four

or ve times already.

But it was the rst time it ever really MATTERED, do you see?

And I just know hes going to be President in 20 years, I know it, I

KNOW it! And Im going to be his First Lady, and protect him and make

him comfortable and happy, and shine like a diamond in a long necklace,

just like we pray every night. Like a necklace stretching back a hundred

years and forward a thousand thousand and making our Nation strongand pure forever. Amen.

La Matanza de la Tierra: An Unfnished Narrative

Diana Mabel

The wars began like they always do. The continual exploitation o

very poor by the very rich triggered a worldwide quest to shut do

olutionary efforts where they started. The ongoing Red Scare t

grandfathers witnessed escalated into the Earth Scare when the

ganites rose to power. They invaded countries that imposed a thr

their inuence and one by one, the countries fell. The power stru

both ends proved useless as the territories they fought for were d

in the wake of decades of warfare. Nonrenewable resources fuele

erations of weaponization on their side and guerrilla warfare on o

witnessed civilizations disappear as soils eroded, storms got wor

ease grew rampant, and oceans swallowed continents whole. Res

ghters banded together as they encountered each other. Anti-Re

combatants in Central America formed the Herramienta Movimi

with groups occupying each zone.

11-08-3013: 0600

My ancestors sought refuge at CAVA- the Central American Volc

Arc, one of... if not the last source of geothermal power remainin

were able to harness volcanic energy before the Reaganites could

soils here remain fertile and we stay alive so long as they dont e

but thats a risk worth taking. The ghters of my zone in Chinam

themselves the Martillos. We have comrades throughout San M

the Contradores in Usulutn, Alicates in Izalco, Pinzas in T

rete, and the Destornilladores in Apastepeque- each occupying

no in their zones and protecting them from the Reaganites. Our dshields hold up so long as we keep mining the volcan. We got wo

week that the Pinzas are close to hitting dormancy and pretty soo

shields will give in and they wont be able to fend for themselves

teen of us formed a troop to make the six hours out to Taburete a

40

cue those we can The initial plan was to leave immediately but we got ries We took the crafts and ed the scene before Reaganite rein


23/23

cue those we can. The initial plan was to leave immediately but we got

hit with another quake, third one this month and increasing in magnitude

by what our scales tell us. Well leave at nightfall.

11-16-3013: 2400

We were in and out of Taburete within a day. The volcan was dormant

by the time we reached the zone. It had been that way for a while. We

searched, but only ashes remained of what used to be the Pinzas. Entire

families combusted under Reaganite blasters. All signs pointed to the

obvious, we had walked right into a trap. Before we realized it, we were

ambushed. Four crafts came out of hiding and shot at us from above-

taking out 3 of us at once. These were no run of the mill hovercrafts,

they were heavy duty machinery the likes of which we had never seen.

They were fully equipped with built-in guns, deectors, and room to t

at least a half a dozen of them comfortably. We ran for cover and red

back when possible but their head-to-toe titanium-plated armor reected

all of our shots. We were just about done for when we heard the thunder.

Dozens of Reaganites started falling from their crafts. When we looked

back we realized the thunder was the sound of their armor crashing as

they hit the ground headrst.

We had an undercover Herramienta in their midst, an Alicate that sabo-

taged their oxygen supply. Her plan to meet us went haywire when her

message got intercepted by a Reaganite elite. They could not trace the

message back to her, but they had been luring in and taking out troops in

every zone. This was the rst and last lure in-take out operation they

made her a part of. Our undercovers dont go in expecting to come out.

They inltrate Reaganite quarters and cripple them from within. Getting

back to Herramienta ground without detection is next to impossible... but

she managed to do it. Her name is Zoila.

11-17-3013 1700

Another quake hit when we reached the Martillo zone. Quakes always

hit before a volcan is about to blow, but that was only one of our wor-

ries. We took the crafts and ed the scene before Reaganite rein

ments ew in. There was no doubt that they were eventually com

us, harder than usual. Zoila shared Reaganite blueprints and plan

our arrival. The whispers were true- they were building somethin

sive- something they cant nish without mining the rest of volca

on the planet. The crafts from the ambush that we took back wit

ridden with the new tech. The prints Zoila handed us detailed the

of the outer plates of the craft- made to harvest solar energy from

Its carrying capacity suggested it could hold hundreds of people.

wasnt just a plan for a new and improved craft... it was for a sh

Zoila claims to have seen it.

Tonight, our people will mine the volcan to dormancy. Tomorrow

get us in. The new tech of the stolen crafts and details of the prin

taught us enough- we can make it take off... but wed have to act

Once our volcan becomes dormant, our deectors will start going

but its our only ticket off of this ruined rock.

11-17-3013 2200

We got hit with another quake before the miners could nish wha

started. The worst is yet to come but we may have gotten just eno

what we needed. The crafts are prepped en route to Reaganite H

eruption is nigh and only one thing is for certain: well take off in

sky one way or another.

- Napo Leon

42

Panopticalm Vol 2: Constant Apocalypse

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