”Violence is never the answer”, the monk says, pumping his shotgun. ”But you don’t always have to be right”.

I look at him in disbelief, soon to be growing panic. How did we get from peddling serenity training lockers to…this? True, I had only known Theseus for..let’s see…two weeks, but still. In two weeks you’d think stir crazy would pop out its head and yank at you. At least once? But no. Theseus (Dzisus, is that even his name? Maybe I don’t know anything about him) seemed as regular as Volvo. As clean as a poodle. It was smooth sailing and inward smiles all through camp training. Not one to stand out, I thought myself lucky to be paired with him. I had looked aghast at some of the other recruits. Misfits, ex-druggies, clean-cut loonies, and the occasional seeker. No, I could have done much worse, of this I had felt certain. And the first three days of door-knocking here in….Tubersville (population 563) was apple pie and cream cheese. Perhaps we got more door-slammers than lemonade glasses to our faces, but hey, what do you expect? It IS a pretty flea-ridden county after all. Our handlers had been explicit, this is just warm-up. No quotas are expected to fill up. Not yet. First, learn how to put the boot to the ground and start grinding. 

Perhaps this was why. To see who had the mettle and be able to contain outbreaks such as… but this is madness. It cannot be happening to me. Not again. Not like this. I mean, for chrissake. Who do you have to blow around here to get a break, huh? Just the one.

But no, someone had the sadistic idea of playing me, just a little bit more. You know what? Fine. Whatever. Two can dance this tango.

”Yo Theseus, back off for a sec. Say hello to my little friend.”

”Why you bxzwsk…..fre….quak…”

The rest of the transmission is garbled for reasons not known. Possibilities include corrupted files, sun flares, and a herd of unruly hippopotamuses. Incident report filed and stored under Magnamius, Jan. No access restrictions.

I sigh and resign my seat at the table. It remains unclear why Prof. Janssen insists we sift through these. Some will fall asleep after a few grueling hours of this, but I do not share that affliction. Unfortunately in my case, other ailments are beseeching me. It’s hunger, plain and simple. Remains to choose my poison of the day. I briefly entertain the idea of fish, but discard the notion out of hand. A quick view in my rearview window suffice. 

The rest of the crew bailed. Perhaps this is why. As I walk to the waiting area grinding my teeth I am struck with an insight. I turn on my heels and peruse the lexica Amargana. Yes, you buggers, I gotcha! See, there are prizes for perseverance, you just have to…persevere. I note the related filings in my purpose-made notebook and it feels like I can breathe again after forever.

There is a match, and I just found it. Just like Janssen undoubtedly assumed one or more of us would. Not that I ever doubted her for a second. Genius is genius, whatever the package. Also, my prospects just increased by a magnitude. I can afford a sly smile and the remainder of the afternoon off. Now the promise of food AND a rest brings smiley twitches to my face, if not my eyes.

As I traipse off towards some rest in the outer dormitories the faint smell of something burning (cedar? Incense?) passes through my nostrils and my consciousness. It barely registers, I am so looking forward to my bunk, hunger suddenly demoted to urgent need number 2. If I had known, but how could I? I was, after all, just a measly free-riding scholarship student in my second freshman semester. Yes, as I recall these fateful events for the Chronicler I see the difference it would have made. I also see how I could never have seen it.

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Dear reader, I am sorry to have let you hang out to dry. I have a perfectly good reason. I was hungry, did I mention that? Having identified the three dishes on offer in the in-house canteen i quickly made up my mind to wander off-grid, bunk all but forgotten. Yes, I did visit that joint, again. No, I will still not tell you where it’s at. That’s for me to know and you to find out. Only, I hope you don’t. Why? Well, once you find it you will understand.

The tricky thing is the making of a decision. Choice is overrated, if you ask me. There is so much tastiness in the world (or in this joint anyway) and so few lunch breaks. So, though I am loath to divulge more, I am inclined to share some of my insights. It just feels right, you know? So, anyway, this is how i handle it. 

I don’t.

Makes any sense? 

It goes like this; the best way to make an important decision…is not to make it. Yes, I know dice is all the rage this season, and sure, if that tickles your fancy, don’t let me stop you. As for me, I do it differently. You want to know how?

You really want to know how I found serenity and inner peace? Ok, since you are twisting my arm, I’ll tell you. I…close my eyes and point finger. Wherever I end up pointing becomes ordered down the tubes, and yes, it is always satisfactory. The way things look may do it for the most of you, but I find that approach tedious. Even more so after the Incursion, but you know all about that. We are all living in the aftermath of that…event. So let us focus, shall we? There is one obvious drawback though. I can never be a foodie bloggie. Why? Well, I never know what I ordered, and the plates, though always delicious, are never tell-tale.

So, there you have it. I hope you do not think any less of me for it. I mean, a girl has got to have her vices, no?

Regardless, this is mine. And how I cherish it. Even telling you here like this, as if at a regular joe meet-up, makes my hair tingle, and my palate awaken.

There is something absolutely ravishing about the way this place smells, don’t you agree? Like fresh cucumbers, vanilla and black dahlias, yes? I have no idea where that smells emanates from, only that at five o’clock sharp each Tuesday and every third Friday this place smells like heaven. If I could bottle that I would be rich, no two bits about it. 

But I digress, we are not here to talk about my other vices. If you care for those, check out my other socials. ThePlacestory.tumblr.com is a good place to start.

We are here because although we all seem to have made it pass the initial hoops, something has stuck us all here, yes? We cannot progress, and we cannot back out. The Incursion saw to that. So my unlucky brethren, a pickle, yes? I suggest we do something about it. There is always something one can do about it, or so said my oncle, and although long since decesead he should know. He practically wrote the manual for such situations. And I abide by that. So, let us scheme, let out steam, and bankroll this whole hot mess we’re in. Can I get an Amen to that?

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– It’s a thrill to be sure. And the pleasure is all mine, I assure you. We have been expecting…I mean, we had been hoping for a signal of some sort, so our lab team was overjoyed when it suddenly broke through. No, they are still working on that sir, but we felt you should be the first to know. I mean, the first civilian. I mean, eh, never mind, shall we? Ah, here is Dr Whirst, she has promised to guide us through the…excentrities this time around. This way, if you please, Mrs Secretary.

-Hi. I’m doctor Whirst, but you can call me Callie. That’s what everyone around here does anyway. So, you came to see the big kaloohey, eh? Yeah, well, I didn’t bring out the bells and whistles for this one, let me tell you. See, there was this one time, in the K´thar desert where it seemed we really… oh sorry, yes of course…I quite understand…take your time. I forget what it must be like for grumpies to pass that gate, myself, I am so used to…sorry again. Yes of course. Yes… Can do… Right, however nice it would have been to show your highness the facilities, or the Dump as we crew affentionately call her, duties are calling. Yes, well, science never sleeps. Nor do the anomalies, it seems. Anyhows, just sit tight for a bit, ok? Someone will pick you up shortly.

Some time later

-Huh, oh sorry, you gave me quite a fright, yes sir you did. I mean, you are here, right? It’s not just in my mind, right? Well, I guess you would say that either way, sir. It’s this place. I tell you, ghost or no, it still gives me the willies. Oh, why I stay on sir? Well now, who else would you rather have clean up after those guys, right? I am a god-fearing upright standing law abiding bible-loving loyal subject, yessir. Don’t you listen to those slanderers on level 3, what do they know? They wouldn’t last half a parsec here, right? Jelly-billies mecalls them. Contraband heaven my word. Where do they get all these loony, yes I do not hesitate to call a spade a spade, nosir, loony notions from? It must be the vapors sir. They all inhale, don’t let them tell you differently, right? Well, if that was all I must be on my way, there is a ship- I mean those closets don’t clean themselves now, you know. Ha, that would be a sight to behold, something for ole Sam here to rest his weary eyes on before…nono, I am quite alright sir, just a manner of speaking. Yes well then, I bid you goodnight. Say hello to the other ghosts from me, will you? I would myself, but I am frightfully busy you see.

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So while we are on the subject of sperm whales, let me just state the obvious. They were not here first, ok? They come from a long line of failed experiments? By who I hear you ask. Well, I must say this is progress, you listening and all. We could all do with a little education, after all. So let the education commence! Here in this big ole world there are few things less savoury than whales. This was known then, but has since been forgotten, redacted out, as it were, by a zealus lot of…no, let me rephrase: There were, in the midst of the Dark Ages, a misconception concerning fertility, linked to.. You guessed it, whales. Unlucky couples crowded the quaint little seaside hamlets, ostensibly to ” catch the airs”, but we all know where that expression came from. With something wild in their eyes and not all buttoned up they were a national nuisance in their disheveled states, upending all sorts of roots.

This is the forgotten history. Have a closer look at mr and mrs Doubody, recently arrived from… well let that be a lesson for all of you to not gallivant away into grapevineland. It simply doesn’t matter the cost. We have all been there. The hungry untamed look, the sudden flapping of extremities, the huuu and the haaa of the truly downtrodden when they think nobody is listening. Well, I have news for you Buster. They are listening. All of them. But, as fortune would have it, their manners forbid them to dillydally it any further. It is quite scandalous as is. No further propagation needed. How we know this? But Sir, you insisted on the ”Quite quiet in class-act”, remember? So, while I would die to tell you, it is not seemly, sir. No, I am not obfuscating, we have not had that class yet. Sarcasm, sir? Why yes, that is freshman mandatory sir. And if I may, sir, we were all quite taken by you there sir. Sure you catch the drift sir. Yessir. Nosir. AyeayeSir. Yes, we have called for them, two are on their way, just be patient. 

What? Yes, it tends to take its time, I know. But if you would just sit down for a bit I will go check with the registrar if we couldn’t bump the file a bit, yeomans privileges and all that. Just sit tight, and do let the bedbugs bite, they are harmless, and it would enthuse Dr Freckel no end. Yes I know. Yes. 

Well then class, it seems other worldy affairs have a need for my precense. Meanwhile, go through package A1-C3, we will have Discuss after lunch. What’s for lunch, who am I, general information, eh? Peruse your Ickets, that’s what they are there for. Right. No silliness now, hear?

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It takes only a fraction of a second, but its echo revolves in the neighbourhood for quite some time. The discharge is met with disbelief, a few divorces, and a lot of calls to Mergency Enter. Me, I don’t blame them. Two perfect strangers, a shotgun, and a lingering smell. It would make for a good poem, were it not so dirty. After all this time I still cannot wrap my head around the chronology of it all. What came first, what followed, and who then followed? The reports seem clear but are actually full of holes. Noone is bothered by that. Given what happened at the same time, or almost at the sime time, or a little before, I cannot say I blame them. The Barrier Break, or the Incursion, depending on who you ask, did after all leave a significant mark on our…I almost said souls, but I redact that. We have always been careful that way, and while most people never understood why I think I can safely say that we in this room do. And while that may still leave us as much in the dark as the rest of them, it does have one clear advantage. We have a starting point. It is nothing to gloat about, it does not make us superior in any way. If anyone here is in the process of committing that mistake I have one word for you. Mistrale. While I am aware this may shatter what little you are still standing on, in the end your landing will be softer, your aim truer. That is my secondary objective teaching this class, as outlined in your sleeve notes. 

Now, if you are ready to turn, we will once again focus on that monk. What can you tell me about his preferences?

Yes? Correct, from a Carthusian scholar, such an example would indeed score high, but we are past that here, yes? Now, you must remember the intro, it was not all that long ago. What example did I provide you with then, eh? Yes, that’s right, the Law of Inverted Tea. And this applies to our analysis of mr K how? Yes, correct again, it double binds the helix to the prima sphere. QED. That’s it for today, now I want you to essay me until next week on the serendipity paradox connected to the incursio…yes I know, but this is state policy. Nothing you can do about it. 

Socratic Dialogue on the Nature of the Monk

Socrates: My dear friends, let us ponder the figure of the monk. Is it not tempting to label him an anomaly, a deviation from the norm?

Student 1: Indeed, Socrates, it seems so. An anomaly suggests a departure from a pattern, does it not?

Socrates: Ah, but what if I told you that we have never truly established a pattern to begin with? Might we not be misled by the hasty sketches of lesser clerics, those who dwell in the Third Archive, ever preoccupied with their own ink?

Student 2: So, you suggest that the monk is not an anomaly at all, but rather a reflection of our own misconceptions?

Socrates: Precisely! Now, let us consider the monk’s sandals. What do they signify? Are they not often misinterpreted as symbols of contrition?

Student 3: I have heard that he walked barefoot out of humility.

Socrates: Yet, what if I told you that the ledger from Station Theta-Six reveals a different truth? He was, in fact, allergic to synthetics. Does this not raise questions about whether his choices stemmed from spiritual conviction or mere physical ailment?

Student 1: It seems we cannot easily categorize his preferences, then.

Socrates: Indeed! For what a man drinks reveals less than what he chooses to forgo. Consider the monk: he abstained from fermented drinks after dusk and shunned symmetrical utensils. There was even a curious incident where he licked the condensation off his own shadow. What do you make of such a gesture?

Student 2: Some might see it as an act of devotion, while others could interpret it as a sign of his eventual division.

Socrates: A fascinating dichotomy! But let us not rush ahead to conclusions that belong to Seminar 7. Recall, if you will, Seminar 3, where we discussed the concept of temporal leakage. Do you remember this phenomenon?

Student 3: Yes, it is where the boundaries of events blur, allowing causality to twist back upon itself.

Socrates: Correct! This is crucial to understanding the monk’s journey through the Obliquity. When he enters the Hall of Asynchronous Vows and takes the Non-Oath, does it not resonate in a way that precedes its utterance?

Student 1: So, you suggest that his actions echo before they are spoken?

Socrates: Precisely! Few institutions recognize this, and even fewer teach it. This brings us to a lesser-known clause in the Accord of Broken Intentions. Do you recall Article XII, subsection λ?

Student 2: I believe it states something about the bell ringing before the monk moves?

Socrates: Yes! It reads, “Should the bell ring before the monk moves, you already failed to learn.” Do you see now why we devoted time to the Law of Inverted Tea? It is not merely about beverages, but about the inversion of pre-consequence logic.

Student 3: So, Mr. K was bound not just by belief, but by expectation, which is indeed a volatile currency of the mind.

Socrates: Well said! Now, before we conclude, I must remind you of an administrative matter: your essays on the serendipity paradox are due next Thursday. But do not confuse the paradox itself with the task at hand, for that remains under provisional containment at the edge of the Fifth Memory Lake.

Student 1: And what of the citation format for pre-cataclysmic sources?

Socrates: Ah, consult the Marginalia Protocols, Appendix B, under “non-existent texts.”

Student 2: Thank you, Socrates.

Socrates: One final note: do not, under any circumstances, attempt to replicate the monk’s breathing pattern. We lost two auditors that way last term. Class adjourned!

Dear Fitzwilliam,

I hope this letter finds you in good spirits. I have recently come across a text that has stirred my thoughts, and I felt compelled to share my reflections with you, as I know you appreciate the intricacies of philosophical discourse.

The text in question presents a fascinating exploration of the monk, yet I find it lacking in certain respects, particularly concerning the complexity of its ideas and the philosophical depth it aspires to convey. While the author attempts to engage with profound themes, such as the nature of belief and the implications of choice, the treatment of these concepts remains somewhat superficial.

Take, for instance, the notion of the monk’s preferences and the implications of his abstentions. The text suggests that what a man drinks reveals less than what he refuses to spill, a sentiment I find intriguing. However, it fails to delve into the existential weight of such choices. What does it mean for the monk to abstain from fermented drinks after dusk? Is this merely a dietary restriction, or does it signify a deeper struggle with temptation, a confrontation with the self? The text hints at these possibilities but does not fully explore the existential ramifications of the monk’s actions. It is in the wrestling with such questions that we uncover the essence of human experience.

Moreover, the discussion of temporal leakage and the monk’s journey through the Obliquity is ripe for deeper philosophical inquiry. The idea that causality can twist back upon itself is a compelling one, yet the text does not engage with the implications of this phenomenon for our understanding of free will and moral responsibility. If the monk’s actions pre-empt their utterance, what does this say about the nature of intention and the authenticity of choice? Are we not left grappling with the unsettling notion that our decisions may be less ours than we would like to believe? The text brushes against these profound questions but retreats before fully engaging with their complexity.

In essence, while the author presents a rich tapestry of ideas, it is the depth of engagement with these themes that is sorely lacking. Philosophy, as you know, demands a rigorous examination of the self and the world, a willingness to confront the uncomfortable truths that lie beneath the surface. I long for a discourse that does not shy away from the messiness of existence but rather embraces it, for it is in that very messiness that we find the raw material of our understanding.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this matter, as I know you share my passion for the exploration of such philosophical depths. Until then, take care, my friend.

Yours sincerely,

Søren

If there was ever a reply it is lost in the annals of time. Søren never returned to these thoughts, and although rumor has it he was working on a larger refutal during his final days of illness no such manuscript or even notes have survived to this day.