The birds and the meadow where they sing.

BELLUM SE IPSUM ALET *** From the Journals of Edith Lapetite November 20th 2011. The very last thing I expected today was to have what we in the death business call a wake up. Im sure he expected it even less. He shouldnt have been able to expect it at all, but Im just not sure anymore. Was he only waiting to wake up the whole time? I dont even know if I can call this a wake up. Manning said not to talk to anybody about this, and I dont really know if I should myself, but I suppose I can trust you, dear journal. Ive had some time to think about it, but I still wish it would go away. He was brought downstairs bagged already. Manning was looking over the pronouncers write up and filling out the certification while I was in the extraction room getting some liver samples. Wed been doing this all night, basically. He said it was three mid-abdominal stab wounds that did him in. He had two defensive wounds on the hands and judging from where the wounds were and how much he bled out it was probably an aortal hemorrhage, but we couldnt make sure. He also said that the T.O.D. was three in the morning, so he had already been dead for like four hours, just kind of sitting in the emerg wing. Suddenly the bag started jerking around in all different directions. He was flailing so violently that neither Manning nor I could get close to unzip the bag. My heart jumped and stayed there so I stood still behind the glass, just kind of frozen there. I feel terrible now thinking about how I just stood there, not helping either of them at all, but I just couldnt then. From all the movement he eventually just fell off the slab. Thats when Manning kind of leapt onto him and managed to get a hold of his arms. He looked at me in a way I cant really describe. Confusion, distress I guess, but Im sure I looked the same. The man in the bag kicked him off and started tearing the zipper open. Thats

when he jumped up, wounds still wide open, skin grey, covered in lost blood, and ran towards

The birds and the meadow where they sing. the glass to the extraction room, me still standing there, and yes, I was terrified. Ive never seen a zombie before. Was he a zombie even? He put his face up to the glass. His eyes were almost normal, still very bright, but they were so white it was obvious there was no blood in his head at all. He put his mouth against the glass and moved it like he was trying to talk but Im not sure. He stopped looking at me and kept doing it, almost like he was desperate to breathe but couldnt, of course. Manning walked slowly up to him with his hands out, asking him to calm down so we could figure out what happened. He looked like he was scared and confused, but he could understand everything he was saying, and almost tried to respond back but stayed silent. Okay. Need to calm down. So we got him sitting on the slab and locked the door to the morgue. I could smell him when I left the extraction room. He wasnt the ripest Ive ever smelled but the flavour was there. BP was impossibly low. Heart rate was zero. No air in the lungs. Rigor half set in. I have to assume he had no immune system left, no way of healing himself. He had no measurable signs of life whatsoever aside from that he was very much alive, alert and thinking. With no blood he has no blood sugar, so how could his neurons be firing? I just dont know *** Excerpt from top New York Times bestseller for 2005 and 2006, The Holy Experience. Covenant in the Park There was great injustice in all the lands of the world. The people gathered and camped near the great eye on the hill, home of the ones who watch all. There was great confusion then, but from this came the Allseer. He gathered the people together who were tired from their plight and sought solution. The Allseer said; I who come from the land that was the birthplace of your knowledge in ancient times, have come here now to make their wisdom known to a time which

The birds and the meadow where they sing. has forsaken them and to see that wisdom in the world as it is now. I shall blot out the eye which watches and teach you to see with my own eyes, to see each other and to see through their eyes with clarity you cannot now imagine. The people dispersed then save for the few elect who saw the wisdom of the Allseer and remained. A great mist fell from the hill and the Allseer raised his hands to the heavens And the Allseer spoke, Life is but a story from which others learn. What we learn from it is impermanent, and what we leave behind defines our life by who remembers. Mothers and fathers learn to be both themselves and their children, as children learn to be their fathers and themselves until they shall beget themselves and repeat the process. Our friends learn from us understanding and tolerance as well as being themselves and others. To never be with others is to be forever screaming to the heavens waiting for an echo that will never come. All the world is a story with many plots leading to a single coming together; the great paroxysm of life itself. We

are not to be told that story, nor will we hear it when we are dead. For even the absence of experience is itself a form of it. One must either never die or within their life see the sum of the experience of all things. And lo, the Allseer held aloft a bag and papers. And from that bag he took the Kush. And with those papers he did roll a doobie of great magnificence. When he was finished he held high this doobie and passed it among his disciples and saying; hit this, all of you. For this is the opening of the eyes and heart which will bring us closer together. And after this he took the cherry coke saying; sip ye all of you. For herein is the essence of life itself. Its sweetness will feed your minds and prepare them for the life to come, which is to live all lives. This body is but a cell in the great body to come. With that he took his notebook from its case, and did say; with this we will write our

The birds and the meadow where they sing. stories and all live together, never to truly die *** Automated Report on User 553525382: Kan profile accessed December 29th 2011: http://www.koan.com/? ref=info/#!/prosperinalibera84=user/req.profile.php=sk/ Subject is female. The full name of the subject is Edith Marianne Lapetite (553525382). She is a Morgue Technician at the Ottawa Civic Hospital. She studied Biochemistry at York University. She studied Thanatology at Kings University College at the University of Western Ontario. She lives in Ottawa, Ontario. She is from Pickering, Ontario. She was born on December 21st 1984. There are several photographs of her with what appear to be friends, family and a cat. Her cats name is Chairman Meow. Her religious views are I work with bodies all day DONT ASK. Her political views are To each their own. Her favourite quotation is Appearances are sight of the unseen. This is a quote from the surviving works of Anaxagoras

of Clazomenae. Her favourite musical groups are Canoe Tragedy, Marmoset Buffet, and The Rankin Family. Her favourite book is The Body Within. Her favourite films are not listed. Her favourite television series are not listed. Her activities include Chairman Meow, Researchin, and Slicin up Eyeballs. Her about me section reads you already know too much. She is single. Recent status updates have indicated general dissatisfaction with romantic relationships and her place of work. Three recent status updates connotes serious reconsideration of professional goals. Private messages with her mother Francine (512496548) indicate

significant distress over the results of an MCAT examination. She received a mark insufficient for acceptance to her ideal medical schools. Private messages with one Brian Macabee

(657957156) indicate significant distress over a recent work related event and that she wishes

The birds and the meadow where they sing. he were [there]. The details of this event were unspecified *** From MOGUL MONTHLY Issue 6. Vol. 12 September 2010. The meteoric rise of the man only known to most as Agon, is as pronounced as the many mysteries surrounding his origins. Doctor, web innovator, entrepreneur, author and vibrant public speaker, he is perhaps the best example of a modern polymath. Agon became a staple in the public consciousness twelve years ago when he began a series of nearly legendary surgeries, mostly at the Ottawa General Hospital. Though it is still unknown how Agon attained

permission to perform surgery under the conditions he did, the remarkable success of the surgeries made many believe he possessed a seemingly natural intuition about the human body. Others claimed he was a sick magician figure, exploiting the illness and misfortune of others to gain celebrity. Others believed he was just magic, a view supported by the lack of information he provided about his methods. Agon was purported to have said that it was cool, and that he just [needs] to dive in and feel around, then everything is clear from there. This quote is, however, unsubstantiated. Justifying his methods, he claimed he wanted to provide a more personal kind of surgery. In a statement immediately following the first of these surgeries, he claimed the current medical establishment does not recognize the personal significance of critical heart surgery. They are deliberately ignoring the fact that it is a major turning point in the lives of those who need it, and should therefore be performed as pleasantly and intimately as possible. The first of these surgeries garnered major public attention only after the patient, who remained anonymous, was incensed after learning what happened. In an interview with fellow surgeon, Charlton Manning, revealed that Agon performed a coronary artery bypass graft by

The birds and the meadow where they sing. candlelight alone and had spread several pounds of intensely fragrant magnolia and lilac petals on the operating table. He also added, it was beautiful. It is also rumoured that an album by renowned ambient artist Beno was played in the operating theatre, though some attest to it being a smooth jazz compilation. The surgeries eventually grew in popularity and the hospital began allowing members of the public to witness the incredible feats of surgical prowess. It was announced in October 2002 that Agons final surgery would be performed blindfolded, much to the apprehension of the hospital staff and various concerned citizens. The surgery was consented to and performed on then fourty two year old information systems designer, Eoin Maloney, who fell ill only two months after settling in Ottawa from his native Donegal County, Ireland. What made this a truly remarkable feat was that it was a total heart transplant. Some fifty eyewitnesses attested to its being performed as Agon specified. Agon gained substantial

international attention when a bootleg video of the procedure was uploaded to various video hosting websites, garnering hundreds of millions of views worldwide over the next several years. As if the fog surrounding the man was not thick enough, his immediate departure from the medical profession afterwards led many to believe he had far greater things in mind, but discussion of his activities eventually became a mostly local discussion in Ottawa alone. It is rumoured that he underwent a spiritual quest, the only evidence of which are sightings at local religious sites and an arrest report filed in 2003. A man matching Agons description was arrested for public lewdness and possession of a controlled substance (LSD). This is however only speculated to be Agon, as the arrestee used many constitutional loopholes to avoid giving his name. His former patient, Eoin Maloney is the cause of much current speculation as to the present activities of Agon. It was February 4th 2004 when using Agons celebrity status, the two

The birds and the meadow where they sing.

men together announced the launch of a new social networking site, which they claimed would surpass all others before them. This claim came off as outlandish to many. The duo replied by asking the public to trust us. They named it Kan, the name for Zen Buddhist sayings and stories that cannot be understood by rational thinking, rather by intuition. Their expectations for the site were met when in 2009 Kan overtook both Facebook and Google when its billionth user signed up. With the exponential growth of the company, Agon and Maloney purchased the building that once held the Canadian Museum of Nature. As their new headquarters, the symbol of the company, a large occasionally blinking eye, is perpetually projected on a large glass enclosure, or lantern, looking north towards the Parliament buildings of Canada. The image uses several projectors and the lantern was filled with argon to create a three dimensional effect. What made Kan so popular in such a short period of time was its plethora of unique features, which combined aspects of the most used websites on the internet in one site, personalized to each users tastes. It is social networking, a search engine, an online

encyclopedia, a comprehensive media hub and so much more. It also has a remarkably advanced audio interface, so intuitive it can discern between the users desire to keep their activities private, or public. Using what Maloney called only a narrative algorithm, data from status updates, search requests and media usage on the site is used to hash out the [users] story from what they experience and extrapolate the kind of information they want to be exposed to. The algorithm makes us able to automatically tailor their site for them, which has brought reports of individual experiences of Kan up to a ninety nine percent satisfaction rate. For many users, Kan is the only website they use, with reports from the company stating the average amount of time per day spent by a Kan user is 8.6 hours, meaning that Kan has become a staple in the lives of an enormous chunk of the internet using population. Agon said of this, I dont know what to do

The birds and the meadow where they sing. about that remaining one percent, but well figure it out eventually *** From the Journals of Edith Lapetite November 20th 2011. Okay. Im okay now. After about an hour we were at a loss for what to do with this person anomaly. Manning and I were off shift soon and werent sure how to explain this to the shift coming on. We had a few hours when we decided what to do and spent that time cleaning up all the blood on the floor. By this time he it had stopped bleeding. It is a he. Im just still freaked out. Anyway he stopped bleeding so we put him in a chair near the corner. He was pretty patient from then on and when the time came to get him out of there we had to rush it a bit. Manning said he was okay with going home in his scrubs and gave him his coat and some

gym clothes. His skin was so cold and he looked even more frightening in the black hoodie and long black coat. I cleaned myself up and went to pull my car around the unloading entrance. I was really quick about it, but in that period of time something happened. As I pulled up he jumped in front of my car and I hit him. I even hit him hard enough to break the damn windshield. I dont know if it even injured him at all, since he got right back up and started running down towards the river. I got out and thought of chasing after him, but that was just about all the freaky shit I could handle for the moment. Manning came out winded and wide eyed. He told me to go after him, but by that time he was already half crossed the river. He just started romping across it, kicking water all around him. By the time we reached the bank he was already on the other side and running as fast as any living person Ive ever seen *** DE MORTUIS NIL NISI BONUM ***

The birds and the meadow where they sing. From MOGUL MONTHLY Issue 6. Vol 12. September 2010. Agon, though normally very secretive, agreed to disclose some details about his daily regimen, to which he attributes a great deal of his success. It also explains his almost

unmistakable look. To the surprise of our staff, he insisted we tell you that his daily ritual ensures the longest life and the clearest mind for anyone committed to it. The man lives in an impressive loft style penthouse lost set up in the southern wing of Kan headquarters. Within the rather large space, he has several gadgets which make his lifestyle mostly autonomous. Various holdovers from his medical days have also found their way into the space and ensure the intended effects of his lifestyle. Agon begins his day by laying out which of his various suits he will wear today. He has his suits heat treated with a device often found in hospitals and hermetically seals them in pre-sterilized plastic sheathes which he puts with the rest of his suits according to colour. He does this whenever he considers a suit soiled, that occurring usually three times a day. After laying out his days clothing he has a very specific cleansing routine. First, he uses a heated shaving system to remove all hair from every surface and crevice of his body. After this he takes a shower, and I quote, using near scalding water, a specially designed scrubber (which this writer thinks resembles a kind of cheese grater, somewhat), antibacterial dish soap and finishing with a liberal application of various organic moisturizers and salves. He does this to ensure optimal removal of dead skin, errant hair and subcutaneous bacteria. After his morning cleansing he breakfasts privately in a separate en suite kitchen and dining room, the smells from which this reporter has no frame of reference. After this he performs a rigorous two hour work out. He straps his arms, legs and torso into a specially designed machine that moves and twists his body into various shapes. He claims this machines

The birds and the meadow where they sing. routine provides a workout that simultaneously affects the body in the same ways as aerobics, calisthenics, weight conditioning and electro-shock muscle toning. This is the secret behind his trademark chiseled physique, viewable on his personal Kan profile. He does this while catching up on world news using a multiscreen interface attached to his head like a set of glasses and feeds information directly from the Kan central servers. He claims this routine, though appearing excessive, is in actuality the most relaxing part of [his] day. He claims that after this it is good to have another shower to ensure optimal expunging of bodily toxins. When probed again to go into detail about how he came about this method, he claimed that it occurred to him after a frivolous period of sensory indulgence, [he] realized the fleetingness of the flesh. People already familiar with Agon will know this to be taken almost verbatim from his bestselling book, The Body Within, which sparked what he called a small but growing revolution of mortification; a process of discovery wherein people begin to see within themselves the entity in each of us that is free of crude form *** From The Ottawa Son March 13th 2012 For Print on Pgs 1 &4 Full Spread HL pt.72 Smelly Vigilante SL pt.36 Mysterious Figure Foils Local Criminals A mysterious and stinking figure dressed head to toe in black has been sighted thwarting numerous crimes across the city for some months now and Ottawa Police have only recently made a statement regarding this strange phenomenon. The Ottawa Police Service stands by its track record of excellence in dealing with both major and minor crimes across the city. In the interests of preserving public peace we have had a policy of neither confirming, nor denying the existence of vigilantism here in Ottawa. The very last thing we want is for the public to get the wrong idea about the effectiveness of their local

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The birds and the meadow where they sing. police, Police Chief Leonard Dingle said at a press conference at the Elgin Street Headquarters yesterday. As of this moment I am announcing the creation of a special task force to investigate the nature of these vigilante incidents. We dont know if were dealing with a group of people, or just one person, so the task force will grow depending on what circumstances are revealed. The incidents in question date to the early fall of 2011, with the first sighting of the mysterious smelly man occurring on September 25th, when the suspect intervened in a bar fight between two students on Clarence Street in the Byward Market area. The second such incident occurred Halloween night when the man was spotted by pedestrians, fighting with what appeared to be a group of costumed revelers in front of the Kan headquarters, the former Museum of Nature on Argyle Avenue. Police responded to the report within a few minutes but were

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astonished to find the group already pacified and several costumed Kan employees who gathered to watch. It was later discovered that one member of the group was being held against her will and was remanded to protective custody, pending the confirmation of her next of kin. The group was later charged with kidnapping and conspiracy to commit an indictable offense. The incident which prompted Police to release a statement about the vigilante was followed by a series of sightings across the city and the uploading of three grainy cell phone videos to various sites, including Kan. On March 10th Police were tipped off with truly disturbing information of cultic activities taking place at the National Art Gallery. They did not receive a phone call, but received the tip from a note attached to a brick thrown through the window of Chief Dingles office. The note was released and simply read in barely legible scrawling trouble at the gallery. go past the great hall. go to the red light. Chief Dingle has not released the details of this incident, but confessed the nature of the case was frightening. The names of those who are being held in connection with the incident are also being withheld

The birds and the meadow where they sing. until the appropriate time, when all the particulars are understood. The suspected vigilante was spotted fleeing the scene but Police were not able to apprehend him. As with the other incidents, the suspect is described as wearing all black, and reeking of death itself. It has been reported at each incident that our suspect received severe injuries, which has led us to believe we are dealing with a group of people, Chief Dingle added. We are working from this assumption and attempting to build connections which will eventually lead to closure on this case. We have been held back as with each incident Police resources are diverted to deal with the crimes this vigilante reveals. The Ottawa Police Service works tirelessly to ensure the safety of the citizens of Ottawa. It is at times like these that we are reminded of the importance and sacrifice of our individual officers and to never take justice into our own hands. Complicated cases such as these take time and man power to figure out and it is not the result of incompetence that an arrest has yet to be made. *** Excerpt from top New York Times bestseller for 2005 and 2006, The Holy Experience. The Charge of Carpe

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And when he left the park he did wander through the streets of the capital and beside himself bemoaned to his disciples; why is it that these cities all seem the same? That the looks in the eyes of the people seem to have the same dim glow as the next? This is a communing of like souls but is it from joy? Is this from fear? From whence came this need for closeness? The disciples looked at the Allseer then and were speechless. Their mouths were as cotton and their words were uncertain, for the fog of sudden enlightenment had filled their heads.

The birds and the meadow where they sing. The Allseer then from his satchel produced libation and did sate their thirst. And he said; This is Arizona. Learn its taste well, for it will quench your thirst and comes at so small a cost. Now speak friends and tell me the story of your thoughts. The first disciple to speak quivered as he did and said; is this not the natural way of things? In coming together we ensure the greatest possible joy for all people, so that we all may never find ourselves in want? Other disciples agreed with this until the next spoke with greater conviction. But many are in want and fear is our natural state. It is for fear that we come together, but that is not something to be held as shameful. It is through this fear that our works are created and are given meaning. Were it not for strife there would be no need for joy and nothing to pursue. Many of the disciples assented to this and saw his reason as sound. Another disciple whose coyness was known said; wherefore comes this pursuit? And of what need is it to us if fear is necessary to attain such goals? Hence, though without fear we would need no joy and with no joy we would not need fear. And with this necessity suspended would not we be as we most truly are? Many of his disciples were now confused and turned to the Allseer to bring clarity to their ramblings. The Allseer said then; your words are close to truth, my friends. Our pursuit is not clearly known, but it ends at a single point. Why do others starve while others idly pursue this concept of truth? Why must those who know comfort ignore their fortune and haplessly pursue fear? Why must those who starve and are fearful seize joy at every opportunity? It is because the nature of man is to experience all things, to know all things and see the point at which time and history end and a new life begins. Our works last longer than our lives for we are waiting for the day when our works will make our lives grander and all ills will be cured. Many will fall beneath those who stand closest to this end, and when it is reached their hunger and wont will be

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The birds and the meadow where they sing. at an end. Say not that art is long and life is short. Instead work to make our lives long and our works the means to ensure it. And as for experience, it is the basic charge of all life to do so. Experience is constant, no matter what it is and all things must be experienced for the end to come about. What some call God is not an entity of any kind, but a goal. For we become God

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when our experiences reach the ultimate sum. Then we will know pain, joy, success, failure, all things that have been, are and will ever be. With this the Allseer stopped and sat and did relieve himself of the heavy burden of instruction for a moment. Still exhausted he, bloated with wisdom, spoke; can you imagine nothingness? To live yet never sense? To be both alive and dead? It is these rarities which will unify and make real the great Holy Experience. I dare prophecy a son of the flesh who will be that for us; a sacrifice of all sense to serve as a model for us all. For you, my disciples I charge you to be both victim and offender, both wealthy and poor, joyful and fearful. There are no contradictions, only the limitations of the flesh. Do we not always straddle the boundaries between life and death? Is this not the essence of our being? Does not an answer only lead to another question? But we must know all there is to know in this body before we move to the next. The disciples were relieved then of their burdensome thoughts. The Allseer spoke then; seek to be these things, all and nothing, and we will come together again in the days to come and transcend this world. Experience all you can, for a new world awaits *** From the Journals of Edith Lapetite April 4th 2012. It finally happened today. What I always knew would happen from that day on. I cant distance myself from what happened. I wont distance myself from what happened. I have to

The birds and the meadow where they sing. see this to the end no matter the outcome. He was in the news again last month, as you know, dear Journal. Ive been waiting for him to pop up again but it hasnt happened yet. Something is going on though and Manning knows about it. He petitioned to have me fired again last week but I quit instead. I have enough socked away to survive for a little while, but Im not sure if Im going to be looking for work anytime soon. Medicine was something I always dreamed of, but it seems like it wasnt meant to

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be. Though harvesting organs and organizing corpses is something that needs to be done by somebody, it wasnt exactly what I had in mind. I was trained to treat and council those near death, not chase after them or come up with some abstract nonsense about what it all means. And Im sure as hell not going to wake up one day only to find I have my head up my own ass, like Manning. The simple fact of the matter is that whether this person is closer to the grave than he is to life, he still has a mind. Whatever hes doing this for its important. And for that matter

*** MORITURI TE SALUTAMUS *** From The Ottawa Son NOT FOR PRINT October 16th 2012 HL pt.84 HOLY SHIT SL pt.46 Shocking Revelations of Local Cult and the Book that

The birds and the meadow where they sing. Started It What to some seemed like an act of petty vandalism has revealed itself to be the work of an unsung hero who walks in our midst every day. Last Sunday, the Sun received a tip that

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graffiti appearing all around the city, specifically concentrated around the Gladstone and Metcalfe area had a certain significance. The same phrase appears from the same hand and the same red paint. It reads CARPE OCULI, Latin for pluck out the eyes. The word carpe can mean pluck, as well as the commonly known use in the phrase seize the day. There is a section in the book anonymously authored bestseller, The Holy Experience, called the Charge of Carpe, which tells readers to seize the day and experience as much as possible. The sweet taste of these words has brought the book international attention and a following which has before now been mostly passive and harmless. However, the ultimate spirit of this charge to live is devoid of any moral judgment and emphasizes the inherent value of all experiences equally. There are no mistakes or triumphs so far as the writer of this book is concerned, only things that happen. The Sun has received exclusive information which connects this book with the vandalism and a series of mysterious incidents across the city. The organization known only as The Experience, has recently been advertising an upcoming celebration of the same name to take place all across the city. With intensive viral marketing across the internet and a shocking gross of posters reading, are you experienced? they have apparently enticed many citizens investigate more about it. One of the Suns sources has confirmed that sales of The Holy Experience have been on the upswing for several months now. The event is scheduled to take place in late December of this year. But whoever wrote this book cannot have had in mind these crimes, or at least we here at the Son hope so. A string of brutal crimes has swept the city, occasionally being thwarted by

The birds and the meadow where they sing. Ottawa Police or by our frequently featured vigilante, or vigilantes, The Smell. The reports of these incidents have been vague, the nature of them hinting at cultic activities. Three recent murders have been considered possible ritualized sacrifice. There was one underpublicized instance of cannibalism occurring at a private party at a house on Gilmour St which led to the arrests of all involved. There has also recently been a rash of public suicides, immolations, flagellations and other displays of madness that have all been accompanied by their cathartic cries of, well, at least now I know not to do that again. There has also been a marked rise in public sex acts and other various lewd goings on that this paper has opted not to go into detail about. Last week, traffic along the 417 was stalled by motorists distracted by a naked man weighing some 250 kilograms who was apparently abandoned at the corner of the Lees off ramp. He was left in a wheelbarrow, flanked by two other wheelbarrows; one filled with almost two hundred Arbys melts and the other carried several two litre bottles of Dr. Pepper. Another incident two weeks ago, which only seems similar in this broader context, occurred when another man was discovered in Gatineau Park, chained to a fold out chair, who had been surviving for three weeks consuming only what rainwater and morning dew he could. A couple out for a hike stumbled upon the man and set him free, only to find the man so against leaving that he fought to remain and was content when paramedics were obliged to acknowledge this wish. Some of us at the Son have a pool on when the dead will rise from the grave. We here at the Son are, of course, merely speculating about the nature of these activities based on information provided by Police and mostly anonymous tips from concerned Ottawa residents. We at the Son, as often as possible, try to avoid sensationalizing events, nor do we wish to sway anyone towards any point of view. We do, however, ask our readers to please support your local Police and politicians and to not be swayed by flowery speech or promises of

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The birds and the meadow where they sing. a fuller life from anyone. Dont talk to strangers or walk the streets at night. We would also implore you to stay away from the event The Experience has scheduled. Finally, though I have been asked not to include this, I personally implore our hero, The Smell, to please help our Police understand what is going on, since he seems to have a better grasp than the rest of us. Long live The Smell. *** From the Journals of Edith Lapetite Sometime in October 2012

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I have escaped. I know what has to be done now and I have found him. He is worse for wear but doesnt feel pain. He has several contusions and wounds which have not healed nor will they ever. I tend to them the best I can and talk to him, but he doesnt respond to either attempts. He writes occasionally. His name is Lemuel and he seems to be convinced he has survived for a purpose. He certainly has proven to be helpful to me. I dont know who took me, but the first thing I remember after waking up was that smell as he ran with me in his arms. It was the smell of redemption itself. I dont know how much longer he can hold out. But we have a plan and it is a matter of life or death, for a lot more people than us, so we must see it through. Till next time, journal. ***

From MOGUL MONTHLY Issue 6. Vol. 12 September 2010. We asked Agon what was next for Kan and how it plans to expand. There are some very exciting things in the works for the future which stand to revolutionize the way we interact with each other and technology. Eoin and I are right now trying to build upon the existing narrative algorithm in the

The birds and the meadow where they sing. hopes that we can create a system intuitive enough to compensate for random anomalies in data input. Were also working with local hardware firms to help advance the feasibility of quantum processors, which will exponentially increase computing power across the globe. Were hoping that this will take care of the remaining one percent and make Kan the only website on the internet with a hundred percent satisfaction rate. We plan to hopefully expand our user base to include all persons with access to the internet. This is our most realistic goal, as our user base grows every day. The internet is already the one thing we have created which most closely resembles the human brain. It, like a brain, functions solely for the purpose of information transmission, interpretation, extrapolation and lower background processing. With these goals in mind we will hopefully establish the first system within the internet to successfully reach abstract conclusions similar to those capable by the human mind, ultimately improving the systems predictive capacities so that the information a user desires is there before they even realize it. We also hope to integrate a wireless EEG interface to create an unprecedented link to the human mind and ultimately allow the system to perfectly read neuronal impulses and perhaps even influence them to a small degree. Synchronizing neuronal impulses with a computers processing speed has proven to be problematic, but should be less so once we develop processors that match the transmission speed of the human brain. After this, he said something that almost seemed to me to be a non sequitur. Were confident that there is only one true kind of consciousness in the universe and that all forms of it are fundamentally compatible. It is difficult to quantify the difference between a conscious lump of meat and a conscious machine, but there seems to be little physical reason to believe that these two forms of consciousness are fundamentally different. People will indeed be themselves if they use this interface, just a different kind of self.

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The birds and the meadow where they sing. This reporter is not entirely sure what that means and strange since this is not a science and technology magazine. However, I must say it sounds exciting and I, for one, would sure hate to be a part of the crowd missing out on what will obviously be a key moment in the history of the internet.

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We have a truly great story to tell. Indeed, it is the greatest and most expansive story that will ever be told. And anyone not already playing their part in it surely will be soon. *** From the Journals of Edith Lapetite. December 22nd 2012. The world didnt end, which is nice. Just my world. Thats not so nice. Im not sure if I can say Ive snapped. But I might have. I imagine that madness is a perfectly appropriate response to this. I guess Ill do that for a little while, see where it goes. Im not entirely sure, since the paramedics havent said anything to me in an hour. So I guess I have no idea whats really going on. Weve been planning this for months now, barely surviving and avoiding detection in Gatineau Park. Only once did we suspect someone from The Experience was out looking for us. We figure they went after him through me, finding out what happened through Manning. The little ass kisser probably went straight to the boss man. We figure it was he who came around to the camp. He was the bald man in a long white coat that came romping around the grounds once with a small band of fairly normal looking people, poking their noses around the camp while we hid in a bear den, which was mostly bear free. The winter has been especially rough but I managed to survive mostly without Lemuel. Maple syrup is surprisingly easy to make, though not always well. It goes well with rabbit. Around the end of November he wrote in the snow, wake me when its time and laid on the shore of the lake for at least a month. I knew what he

The birds and the meadow where they sing. meant when he wrote it. Hes been dead over a year now and his rate of decay has been

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accelerating and though freezing and thawing himself will only make the rotting process quicker afterwards, it was important he maintain what parts of him that were still in good shape until the time came to act. It was lonely though. Lemuel and I started out towards The Experience yesterday in the very early morning only to find it already in full swing and filling up the entire downtown core. People were crammed together shoulder to shoulder the entire way south towards their headquarters and there didnt seem to be anyone there not involved in the festival. People started smelling and

recognizing Lemuel from the newspapers and videos. I knew he couldnt be detected or else the boss man would probably swoop in and catch us from the crowd, or one of the zombies would turn us in. We were already in front of Parliament, but he managed so disappear surprisingly quickly. My job was to work my way through the crowd and find a position in front of the big glass eye, where the boss man would be giving some kind of speech, or making some kind of announcement. Just before the woods we fashioned ourselves a few small explosives on a single fuse, all of them hanging from a single fishing net. When things heated up it was my job to toss the net towards the stage and hopefully catch one of the bastards. The crowd was too thick and I only managed to arrive after spending the entire day of working my way through it. It was already night and the festivities were just beginning. I dont know if anyone will read this, since you, dear Journal, certainly arent going to go out of your way to tell anyone what happened yesterday. I suppose I write it down in the hopes that someone will pick it up, read it, and be just as bewildered as me. I was across the street when the presentation started, still too far away to do anything. In

The birds and the meadow where they sing. front of the big glass eye was a large raised platform with three levels and thick wires leading back into the building. There were pyrotechnics, go-go dancers, lasers, leather pants, and I must admit, just about the bitchinest series of guitar solos Ive heard in a very long time. There were people running around, standing still, eating, drinking, smoking, snorting, yelling, meditating, praying and I could go on. Quite literally everyone was doing something different. Manning was there, standing next to the boss man, the bald man in white. It seemed he didnt intend to say anything at all. He just stood there with his arms spread between two tubes spewing fire to the beat. He threw his head back, basking and I wanted to put him in his place then. Thats when Lemuel came. I could see him on the top of the glass, poised to leap onto the boss. The fall would have surely broken almost every bone in his body but if he landed right, he would blow the whole platform and everyone on it and I could hopefully get away. I didnt want to see him go, but whatever he was disappeared a long time ago and now he was this. Manning and some fat old ginger went behind the platform and reappeared holding some kind of helmet with two thick cables coming out either side of it. It was gold and shimmered in the light of the fires. Definitely some kind of crown, I thought. Manning and the ginger both held it over the bald man and slowly lowered it onto his head. The whole spectacle was remarkable. As it finally rested on his dome more fire and noise and lasers started filling the sky. I could see Lemuels silhouette against the light as he stood up on the glass readying himself for his fall. The eye opened up for only a moment and the lantern exploded, sending glass and gas and debris all across the crowd. Through that gas came what must have been millions of wires, unraveling up into the sky and arching over towards the crowd. A woman next to me was caught. The wire embedded itself deep into her skull. Then it happened to a man and three

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The birds and the meadow where they sing. children next to me. As this happened to each and every single person around me they fell and the wires kept flowing out of the building one by one. The gas overtook the entire crowd and I started to run for cover. I took shelter in what I only later found out was a mostly abandoned apartment building. The windows were blown out by the massive pyrotechnics and several of the wires had spent the night searching for me but eventually gave up and I did not know then why. This morning I went out and everybody was still plugged in. There were no spaces more than half a metre wide between each wire, like a web arching to where the eye was. I checked for the pulses of at least thirty people and none of them had one. Their eyes were all open, staring in whatever direction they fell in. I worked my way through, the density of the wires getting thicker all the way until I made it to the platform. Everyone on it was plugged in as well. One of them was the boss man and I checked Manning too. Everyone was the same. I thought of Lemuel and found him almost right away. He was lying behind the platform with an arm and a leg missing. A wire caught him. I guess he was alive enough for the big computer. With Lemuel gone for good I had no excuse not to look inside. I had a feeling things would make neither more or less sense if I went in. The shell shock is only now starting to go away, maybe. Everything then almost seemed like I was looking through a lens covered in Vaseline giving everything a soap opera sheen. I followed the wires into the center of the building and saw a hole in the floor. It was too deep to guess how deep it was and seemed to go on forever. It was dark and filled with servers all blinking with activity. At the center was the core of the wires shooting up to the sky like an umbrella with only glimpses of sunlight breaking through in places. I took notice of all of this because when I walked across the hall I found one shorter wire hooked into a black box about the size of a person. It had small infant in it, maybe

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The birds and the meadow where they sing. only a few months old at most. It was pale, looking almost as if it had spent its entire life inside this box where there would have been no light, or sound. It was even halfway filled with lukewarm water to keep it in suspension. Part of me told myself that it looked like me, despite all the wires plunged deep into its little body. Maybe she looked not entirely like me, but there was an uncanny resemblance, for sure. I probably wont forget that any time soon. I have lost a

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lot of time, now that I can stop and think about it. Anything could have happened when I was kidnapped. I dont want to think about it. Its not like he got everyone in the whole world. Only a few hundred thousand devotees lost their lives. Thats what the paramedics told me when they finally reached the epicenter a few hours ago. But really Im not entirely sure if the boss man was mistaken about this thing. Theres a decent enough chance that everyone is floating around in that pit. Perhaps they are each one of those little blinking lights. All the wires stopped transmitting only a short time after striking their targets. Every time they remove one they check it and each wire has been cold for hours they say. I suppose on the scale of human disasters, this one turned out on the small side. Was it a disaster? Did he just take their souls? My grandparents certainly didnt have to deal with this shit. They didnt leave any ambiguities when they killed people. I really would have liked to have met Lemuel before he died. That is, before he died the first time. That just feels weird. I dont know if Ill ever get an explanation for that. Anyway, some people are saying it worked and some arent. Some group of computer scientists

somewhere will study it until they know for sure. If theres an off chance that it did work, the world will probably soon find emails saying make yourself immortal in their junkmail folder. Taking a chance on this is something that I just might do someday. Perhaps Ill get to meet the real Lemuel inside, and hear his voice for the first time. Or whatever passes for hearing in there.

The birds and the meadow where they sing. I think before I do, Id like to live a good while in this world and maybe bring enough experience to make an impact in that new world. That is, if its there *** From The Ottawa Sun January 13th 2013 For Print on Pg 13 Side Column HL pt.24 Information Found on Suicide Cult Leaders In our continuing series on the aftermath of 21/12/2012, the Sun would like to announce the discovery of previously unknown facts regarding The Experiences leadership. The man the public knew as Agon is actually Aaron Amfivolos, born September 7th 1962, originally of Toronto, Ontario. Very little is recorded from his childhood to early adulthood and no living relations could be contacted. All indications point to a fairly normal life, that is, until he received his Medical Doctorate from the University of Ottawa at the age of 36 and began his still popular series of public surgeries. His published works, longevity routines and scientific research all remain for study, but the question remains as to whether the mans soul, or what some people call consciousness, survived with the thousands he took with him. We have however received an eyewitness account of the beginnings of his religious movement and seen them correspond quite closely with what he writes in The Holy Experience. A camp-in at Confederation Park was purportedly the beginning of it all. The witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, reported Amfivolos was obviously on some kind of hallucinogen, which was like against the camp rules in the first place. And if that werent enough he just kind of babbled on for a few hours, stole a case of canned ice tea then left. When asked how he knew it was Agon, he replied that he didnt at the time, but if you put long scraggly hair all over his head and face and dress him all in tweed the resemblance cant be missed. Back then he seemed to be just like one of us little people.

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The birds and the meadow where they sing. ***

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