Fyodor :- I wonder, is that priest mad?
V.V.P. :- A ritual plague this priest had.
Fyodor :- All forms he mixed, but essence - miss … was priest kissed by abyss?
V.V.P. :- For quite a long their god is money, all actions strange, few souls are sunny, and even stupid ritual he can’t perform, for it’s so dull.
Fyodor :- If they possess no more sheep, there is no need for gold and whip?
V.V.P. :- Let’s them cut fur from their bodies, and all those “donated” goodies.
Fyodor :- They’ve served a golden calf so well, had their feasts in their fall - was their list of crimes too fat?
V.V.P. :- I guess we’ll keep in secret that!
Fyodor :- The priests are not doing well … watch politicians, friend, we shall?
V.V.P. :- No reason watching them, I think - to guzzle oats and vodka’s drink?
Fyodor :- Oats and vodka? Funny move! That’s how their holiness they prove?
V.V.P. :- They are doing that for quite a time! With Faberge eggs they play ping-pong, and left their mansions with gold pools, still loudly crying: “We were fools!”
Fyodor :- Those are, no doubt, timely thoughts!
V.V.P. :- Hi, politician! Eat now the oats!
Fyodor :- Have they ground off their teeth, trying all to bite and tease? Or have enlightenment just come, and they have learned their own harm?
V.V.P. :- They were shocked, then were crying when Ivan was zealously flying! And just besides in own dreams they saw the tombs, prepared for sins. They saw what is awaiting them, and since these days they are in the lam.
Fyodor :- The avaricious knight has learned the price of blight, confirmed that he was fool and sat in dirty pool?
V.V.P. :- Sort of, my friend, it is quite so … the politician has fallen low. Already soon he’ll leave the scene, for oh-so-bloody it has been.
Fyodor :- What if he gives away all gold?
V.V.P. :- Another fate may then unfold. But he collected all in holes, for long perceiving own goals.
Fyodor :- He may present someone somewhere, to share with others - that is fair!
V.V.P. :- Every task can you endure, if your soul’s always pure!
Fyodor :- Oats with them we’ll not consume, and leave them all alone to fume. I guess at last the time has come to watch medical outcome! For long they’ve rescued only bodies - what has become with their goodies?
V.V.P. :- Ivan, show us the plot for now, and fly in heavens … you know how!
Camera changes its foreshortening for one more time, turning away from a raging priest, who is crying out “Ya fly away from there, I banish ya!”, takes into opened temple’s gates and rises into heavens. For some time a spectator can observe landscapes replacing each other far below, beginning from vast forest and finishing with apparently endless roads, leading goodness know where and goodness know what for, and then starts a traditional sharp dive and the picture of a city’s dump reveals before one’s eyes. Huge dump - I would even say a picture of massive waste. It’s clearly visible a row of cars standing before a dump, competing with each other in the holy right to be emptied as soon as possible. During the “emptying” of a next garbage truck it becomes visible, how from its body a big heaps of some tablets of all possible forms and coloring, some bags filled with powder, and finally some jars and bottles with every possible mixtures are rolled out and fall down into this already huge heap. All this medical junk amicably flies downwards from a heap’s top, ringing and as though clinking with invisible hooves in the process. This magnificent picture is finalized with striding here and there between heaps fire-bearers with torches, who persistently and methodically try to send all this unloaded junk to a fire for eating.
Fyodor :- Burning bright, a finest light!
V.V.P. :- Look in the sky - Ivans do fly!
Fyodor :- Fine to remember of own childhood, these fire-bearers are like Robins Hoods! Medicines burn with a wonderful glow, former diseased express their “love” …
V.V.P. :- People of Earth heal each other, energies holy were granted by Father.
Fyodor :- A funny change in medicines … diseases are caused by own sins!
V.V.P. :- A true belief can cure one! The one’s, becoming divine son, mistakes must own understand to travel then in wonderland. They now were healed by the God, they sing and dance, and praise and glad!
Fyodor :- And by all means, that is just fine! Beloved topic that’s of mine … I am again on the road, and happy thinking of the God.
V.V.P. :- We both, my Fyodor, know of that - this planet was in state so bad, but now the healing in near … and the new Earth will know no fear. The age of light now comes to life …
Fyodor :- I wonder, who will that survive?
05.02.2012
Octopus
- Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you once more, Sarmael. It has been quite a long since we haven’t seen each other soul-to-soul and eye-to-eye, or so to speak. A lot of oil has been spilled since that time, as our ancestors liked to speak, yes?
- And yet no more than ten years in current time area, I believe. And I can assure you that I myself most certainly glad to meet one such as you, mister Architect. Ever since you have been nominated to that position I justly and sincerely dare to hope that …
- Leave your poor flattery, Sarmael, for some silly thirteen-year little girl, which you will certainly soon start to cajole after that molecular reengineering performed on you, - for I have heard enough of that nonsense during my two-three hundreds lifespan. As far as I know, not a single one from the heap of those unreasonable has ascended above the position of Curators. Not that manner and ambitions, you know, wrong type of grasp … Well, enough of that. Sit down and let us have a chat almost as we once did in that old good anarchical ones.
- I thank you. A lot of oil has flowed away, you say? No less than biotic and metals, I guess. Not to mention the quantity of our opponents’ brains, randomly transformed into the organic medley, right?
- Indeed … as these historical bootlickers of last centuries in human world liked to speak … how were they called ? … Frenchmen, - total and endless nostalgia. Old good anarchical years …
- All power for the robots, hm? That was the slogan of these biological bastards?
- Well … both yes and no. We would not become those whom we are now in these new shells if not for their researches, after all. And considering those … side effects … everything has its price, is it not? Even the right … the right to be free.