|Buckle up, Timmy.|
This one's a little weird, even for Da-da. But it's a GOOD weird.
It started normally, if a little over-caffeinatedly. Da-da was sleepless most of last night, though not with kid wrangling duties or a preoccupation with Cheermageddon. Cheerpocalypse? No, it involved a quick holiday jaunt to visit friends and mental patients (recovering parents) on the West Coast, where Da-da was inexplicably forced to lay awake most of last night -- yes, sober -- in a quiet guest room, window open, unable to stop himself from hearing the low, ominous rumble coming from outside. The sound lasted from about 11:00 pm to about 3:30 am PST, above -- or below -- Northern California. Then it stopped. There was no rain, no wind during the event, and the sky was overcast. Stranger still, this was the same place Da-da heard his last sky-sound anomaly ("Pay No Attention to the Clown Banging a Shield Behind the Curtain").
What was it?
Well, Da-da knows what it wasn't. Da-da grew up near Edwards Air Force Base, among others, so he knows well the sounds of the Jet Age. He also lives in the flight path (who doesn't?) of a major metropolitan airport, so he can safely say that the sound wasn't jet engines.
Having lived through big 7.0+ earthquakes in California -- and about a million little ones (4's, 5's and 6's) -- Da-da can reliably say that it sounded kinda like the way an earthquake does before it reaches you (like parents, some move faster than others). He stepped outside for a better listen, as sometimes you can hear an earthquake coming, like a freight train coming over a hill 200 miles an hour. But this sound was different: deeper. And everywhere. Omni-basso profundo.
Now it gets weird.
First, the disclosure part. Sure, Da-da's central nervous system has been stunned and beaten and shaved and painted blue and left in a cold dumpster by renegade KinderGraders, but parenthood occasionally drags around a preternatural sixth-sense blankie with it, giving afflicted parents a higher level of intuition -- or maybe it was there all along and Da-da never paid any attention to it. Whatever you call it, this ability sometimes gives Da-da a step on Entropy's zigzag pass route, allowing him to guess correctly when he needs to catch barf above gramma's sofa, or snag something sharp and pointy out of the air before it's coincident in space-time with some kid's head. It's not all obviation, though.
Put simply, after Da-da wondered aloud what was going on, he suddenly had a movie clip pop up on his cranial drive-in screen. Da-da knows this sounds strange (ok, source considered), but he saw the earth as a giant cosmic cell undergoing some kind of geo-spiritual meiosis and mitosis. The planet divided up its genetic material -- with more on one side -- then split into two planets. One went UP to... another universe? somewhere... with most of the genetic material, while the other went... well, nowhere, with hardly any genetic material. One was light, the other dark. One glowed cosmic vanilla, the other drabbed out a muddy brown. Here's what Da-da's talking about, illustrated with chocolate jelly donuts. (Sorry, Da-da didn't have any vanilla jelly donuts.)
|Now there are TWO chocolate-earth jelly donuts! Actually, one was vanilla, and the chocolate one tasted BAD.|
Who knew bio-metaphysical psycho-pastry imagery could be so enlightening? [img courtesy exophrine]
There was more. Like there needs to be more?
Da-da was also made to intuit that we're supposed to drink less alcohol (or maybe Da-da's supposed to drink less alcohol), and that our tastes are gonna change. And time will be different -- LONGER (so that time you spend with your attorney will now be an, "attornity," the portmanteau billed accordingly). And we're all gonna start eating less meat and more fruit and veggies, and get more exercise and THRIVE a lot more, and turn into telepaths (telepaths?), the better to realize we're all ONE GIANT MEGABEING, whoa. And, of course, we're all gonna develop pointy ears and Go Where No Man Has... ok, ok. Suffice to say that the word for 2013 and Beyond will be: "FASCINATING." On a lot of levels. And we don't have to sacrifice any more red shirts to make it happen.
|Come on, humanity looks GOOD in blue.|
And hey, don't shoot the messenger. It was just a dream. Sure, it occurred while Da-da was awake and hearing some weird sky anomalies, but don't let that sway you. Da-da reports things prima facie; he has to, as his reason was destroyed by small children and rebuilt from dusty TRS-80 parts, leaving his floppy mind in a kind of permanent, "Robotic Field Reporting" mode -- yes, the rest of him coming from some old novelty vending machine: drop a coin, pull a knob, have some fun.
|Hey, look everybody! Da-da's here!|