Sons of the Silent Age Part 3

“Gutentag, y Bienvenue a BuffaGrill! E-iner Ein XXXXX!” She’d pronouced the ErrorGarble, “EeeX.”

“Schr–pecken Zi- R’aLAnglaissS?”

“Yes, yes, we speak English, thanks,” said Pam.

“It’s an opening line mom!” said Rachael, chagrinned.

It was a very small blonde Japanese girl on a levitating Segway. She had on the shortest little orange miniskirt, fake NeauTats, bubble GumLips, retro airbrushed mascara, and candy blue eyes. “Oh, ok, um, what’s the Offset today?”

“Um–”

Rachael chimed in. “She means the like, what is it, Projection Costs for the end of the meal.

Her Grandfather went off to the restrooms after making the long journey out of his booth.

“Ah–I think…Let me come back to you.”

“Fine,” said Pam, dismissively.

The waitress came back with news on her face.

“We are protected under First Privacy Rights or whatev, um, well, you guys have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh okay fine then,” said Pam, instantly reposing to her  colorful Static cardboard menu.

“Wait, what do you mean?”

“Ah–”

After a while the manager arrived.

“Hey you guys, is there a difficulty ordering, I ah–my Server Angela here told me there were some questions that you had…”

Both of them at once.  “Yes,” “No.”

“Rachael forg–”

“–What’s the meal gonna be at the end of the stay here?”

“You mean…the price?”

“It’s fixed on the menu.”

“Fixed, meaning, it changes.”

“Well, it can change, but it doesn’t usually.”

“Why is that? What is this?”

“Well, we’re immune to Price Projections cause of Bitzeri.”

“Cause of Bitzeri, how?”

“She is still four years old good sir, don’t worry about it, go about your business,” dismissed her mom.

Rachael didn’t care quite enough to press on.

“Ok Rach and Nana, while we’re waiting… why don’t wait  a little bit longer until your Grampy comes back and then we’ll ah, well, we’ll start opening presents…?” It was also her Nana’s birthday, or at least, they were celebrating it today.

When Grampy came back he still had nothing to say and looked sick. “You okay Grampy?” inquired her mom, formalistically. “He’s all right,” reassured Nana.

Unwrapping of presents had been going on in the meantime. Pam had actually given Rachael a set of NeauDice, and she was beaming out of it. “Thanks mom,” she was utterly surprised. How’d she remember, she never remembers anything important…?

In another, slightly larger box, Rachael again bolded her eyes and then squinted a out of what might have been shock. There it was, the holy grail: “NeauMaquillage!”

“Oh my God oh my God, thank you so much Mom!” The inside was nothing but a tini-black box that could barely be seen inside a clear white box. It had a large CAMBIAN insignia that burned its way to the top seemingly rising from inside some kind of invisible liquid. She touched it and it came to life, first turning a dark steel black, like some kind of molten liquid, after which it opened and gave a little Halo  presentation of the assortment of different ways to make use of the little blue stick set in the center of the black steel.

Rachael picked it up and examined it as it were a little wounded bird, cupping it in her palm and raising it to try and make out details on the muted material. There were none.

“Remember Rach, when you go back to the presentation, touch instructions and it’ll tell you all about it. You gotta put it in its box every night now…”

“Oh, really why”

“Yeah, I don’t know, but that’s what it says…”

Rachael replayed the last part of the presentation.

“It says it needs to soak…” Rachael then turned to her mom and looked at her glassy eyes. She was trying to look in. Was it in her head or was her mom just impenetrable. At least she hadn’t stopped smiling, and that seemed genuine.

Pam even gave her a big hug after that when she said thank you. She held her tight and seemed to tremble slightly. No one else would have noticed, it was faint and subtle, but Rachael did.

“Okay folks, let’s start picking up this wrapping paper eh?” said Pam, Nana and Grampy had opened their presents halfway. Nana had indeed opened the first of three little boxes and beheld a set of incense candles and a Rap Music gift receipt.

“Nana you sure do like you’re ghettie rap huh?” Rachael was feeling generous. “Yeaahup,” said she, from another world, blank eyes.

Pam took up the baton. “So, we’re…we’ll this is what your  Grampy picked out for us to see tonight…

The waitress decided to leave and come back. “It’s okay, he left abruptly, so…” Rachael said to the waitress, apologetically. Pam didn’t even think of it.

Pam distributed the brochure like pamphlets to everyone and left one sitting there for the ol’ Colonel on his place setting.

Rachael then faintly pantomimed all the actions involved, had she vomited all over the table when she thought everyone’s attention was securely sucked into their spectacles, reading… Her Nana, her Grandmother, caught it, sitting right in front of her, amongst the four of them at the round loud yellow table. She then gave her a brief smile, but then a half-joking look of warning.

“At Last, Something Wicked,” it read, a Playbill for some cheese-ass, as Rachael would put it– ‘old-people play.’ All the actors and actresses were featured as glossy crystal clear and colorful images and indeed, were all seniors of the Bitseri-Maryland Resort itself. The peppier ones. Or at least, Senior actors of the München District.

“So…” It was the ‘I have news tone,’ Pam always used.

But Rachael stopped thinking of that and settled into a weary feeling creeping down her spine…

“We have someone waiting actually!” said Pam, now beaming of some virginal light.

Standing there, right there, coming into her vision, was  a tall attractive boy with dirty blonde hair. Beside him was Helen, directly in tow.

Rachael turned to Pam instantly. She’d already processed what she thought her mom’s root motive was in this.

“Mom, that is fucking not fair, you did not tell him there would be this kind of company.

She thought she was using her mom’s own sense of etiquette against her, but it was no use.

“I do not fucking care, you will take him and her away, as soon as we get a break!” She was whispering. Violently.

Her mom merely smiled, gloating. Then reached over to take Rachael aside.

“Give us a moment.” She had not ceased to beam light.

“Rachael, I know I just brought it up, but Helen contacted me because there’s a new event, soon, for engineers, and girls have a leg up being a minority…”

There was a dagger of betrayal engulfing Rachael’s throat, making it thicker and thicker, breathing harder and somehow clearer, profound gasps, though she was trying to hide the physicality of her indignation. Tears were welling up. Arms were cold and jittery.

Yet she could not in that moment muster the feelings of hatred for her mom at the likes of clear and rational Helen. Lone Helen, as of Troy? Maybe not, Rachael considered. But of somewhere better, and got plopped into this shit, this culture…then ended up believing half of it…

Such was Rachael’s theory anyway.

The betrayal in that moment, was mixing in, not like oil and water, but homogenizing into a distinct affection for Helen.

Girls don’t fucking have periods anymore, Camille! What the hell is causing these emotions!?

Rachael thought this, reproachfully, yet eagerly and in some way, unidentifiably greedy for it. Whatever ‘it’ was.

Andrew was an Adonis.

www.VesperHelioTropic.com

Vesper Heliotropic Excerpt Sons of the Silent Age

Vesper Heliotropic Excerpt Sons of the Silent Age

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25. Sons of the Silent Age

RD AUTO Message 170: Sat 12, Octobre 2086 – Steinenhurst, Maryland |

The air would have been gray.

There was a breeze that sort of didn’t dare make too much sound.

Old people were marching in unison.

The new UFED Cooperation with the Steinenhurst Micro-State of Maryland kicked off an Ad campaign targeting the 45 and up. A series of blockbuster romantic comedies featured newly revived, key pre-era celebrities–and had now consolidated the previously scattered market for seniors. Among these changes; we now had funeral parlors, B&Bs, pancake and breakfast houses, diners, nursing homes as well as Assisted Living communities, all contained inside official Theme Parks with rides!

The beach of the local Bitzeri ‘Arrangement Living and Interment’ camp was a faint sap green and billowed into a muted tan around where its dunes would peak. You could see the yellow blotchy horizon, and the bay, even the ocean beyond, but somehow, none of these things seemed to make a difference. A fog of atmospheric haze  coming in from the sea collided with the long perspective of the boardwalk until it disappeared into the sky. The walls that lined the boardwalk were made of a watery blue brick that loomed over their tennis courts and workout cul-de-sacs. Somehow it looked as if to be missing the crown of its own barbed wire. But there were no imprints of where it would have been, as the brick was freshly painted twice a year.

The pitter-patter of quiet sneakers hitting the ground seemed to be in slow motion. Looking at an old painting try to move and watching these people exercise would have required the same visual attention. Somehow it was as if witnessing only the aftermath of some distant speed. They had on noisy jump suits that represented the entire color spectrum. And still, the sharpest thing in Rachael’s gaze was the grayish-blue metal of the fence she clung her fingers to.

She felt playful, suddenly. Murmurings of things past echoed throughout her mind. She’d known pure boredom enough to make life a race against it. She started playing with these thoughts, tossing them around. She did this until she discovered the game in her head had turned her into an insect.

More like a bumble-bee, maybe.

They had made their way into the waiting lobby when her mom turned to her. “Rach–what’s your SSN again?”

“Wh–”

“They can’t pull up Fingers or Hands here.”

She gave it to her and looked around the dull yellows and grays that made up the lobby’s ceiling, aside from the skylights. A small company library could be seen to her right, possessing a curious addition on an island in this adjacent room that could have at one point, been a kitchen.

They stood in the center of the circular lobby filled with baby blue chairs, marble seeming walls, shiny black tile floors, and funny looking glass sculptures. All of this on the axis of a tiny fountain of ornate, undulating white metal. It was inactive and sort of hidden. Hallways spun off from the lobby in four directions.

They were visiting her Grandmother, not quite ailing  enough yet in her old age, they all thought, underneath it all…

It was the one on her mom’s side. Rachael was always bored with this sort of thing. Smiles, nods and fractured anecdotal conversation was her fate every time she went. Why should she be made to think anything different?

They made their way down hallways of that sweet, sickly aroma so indicative of rotting flesh. That is, of old age.

Monitors passed them, stuck one after the other on the walls, maybe ten of them to a hall. They were most of them, dead, black screens. Dead to their Eyes anyway, but not the Eyes of the inmates here, or any of the staff for that matter.

“So, I have to tell you Rachael, there was something I did talk to Helen about that I’d like you to consider seriously…”

www.VesperHelioTropic.com

Page 6 of the Vesper Heliotropic Graphic Novel

Page 6 of the Vesper Heliotropic Graphic Novel

Doris had been the first…

“…Doris had been the first. The remains of her body churned in a state of suspension as The Gentleman had emptied the blood and changed the soap at different intervals. This was so that the body would go through decomposition at different stages.

The dark otherwise empty room was lined on either side with moving bodies in the metallic yellow and blue of twelve industrial washing machines. In front of each of the spinning engines of the machines was a nice neat set of clothes and shoes along with all the other personal things on their person. A book, a Light-Board, a deck of cards, notes, and a tiny micro world of their life was laid out before the churning of their bodies, as if respectively, each of them had merely stepped into a hot bath…”

 …Read More of Vesper Heliotropic Book I. Crystal Turbines…

the bouncing ball: Vesper Heliotropic Book I. Crystal Turbines

“Everything felt like a toilet bowl to her suddenly…florescent lighting and tiles, desks all in rows the removed suggestions of an omnipresent monotone, a sole repeating voice above an ecosystem of whispering students, sort of bouncing from ceiling to desk to floor, dissipating with each bounce, only to end up under someone’s foot or chair.

And that was class: a small rubber bouncy-ball under someone’s foot or chair.

Rachael didn’t like that feeling, it was cold and washed out, there was nowhere to go from it, only to sit, only to watch, blankly.” …Read More of Vesper Heliotropic Book I. Crystal Turbines…

Corporate Hegemony and Internet Philosophy

The corporate superiority of the redneck or hillbilly in terms of communication that is all at once, integral, in depth awareness and slang tongue. Coupled with a real time, emotional, instant multidimensional medevil, non-abstract, purely expression driven linguistic form.

1-10-12

Sent from my iPad

The new ideology is oral tradition and tribal-inclusive peaceful and intelligent. We reject the philosophy of our forebears here who hold humanity in slavery and teach the doctrine of self-sacrifice rather than the balanced median of selfishness first and love, second. –One cannot love ANYONE else to any degree or form, without first loving and then, falling in love with oneself.

1-09-12

Sent from my iPad

People have a sense that by buying products, they're being had, in order to counteract this, since age in memoria, we have henceforth sold them the idea that in buying Into the system, they're rebelling. And since, every form of rebellion has been packaged behind every product. Think missiles. Think McDonalds. Pay your taxes. Buy Ice Cream. Think milk.Drink. Drive. Give me your money. Good job.
1-09-12
Sent from my iPad

***

– Copyright © Neal Cormier 2011 All Rights Reserved –

Neal Cormier is an artist and writer originally from the Washington D.C. area.

– www.NealCormier.com – His concentration is visual art–especially oil painting and graphic novel illustration.

He is also an up and coming fiction writer, of which Vesper Heliotropic is his first full length novel publication with Amazon, Barnes and Nobles (eBooks) and Lulu Inc. (for paperback & hardcover) Neal recently had a showing at National Airport in Arlington, VA (March 11 – June 25 in Terminal A). He also, and even more recently, had a first book signing for Vesper Heliotropic at The Midtown Scholar, a local hipster style bookstore in downtown Harrisburg, PA.

Neal has sold a variety of pieces to clients from around the world. His artwork has been shown in cafés, bars and galleries in New York City, Washington D.C., Paris and Alençon, France.

After high school, Neal attended the School of Visual Arts in New York City and spent four years living in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. He moved to France after this, and spent roughly about the same length of time in the region of Basse-Normandie, northern France. As a result, he speaks French and has a (tall) 9 year old daughter, Lili. He now resides back home in Crystal City, Virginia with his fiancé, Kristin.

List of Art & Media By Neal Cormier

Art & Blog

www.NealCormier.com

Web Design/Development Services

www.NealCormierWeb.com

The Novel’s Website

www.VesperHelioTropic.com

– Vesper Heliotropic is a general teen/adult sci-fi ebook, paperback and hardcover, and is a Steampunk(ish) serial novel. The first written publication is OUT NOW VIA LULU.com on PAPERBACK and SPECIAL-JACKETED HARDCOVER, and is available for THE AMAZON KINDLE as well as BARNES AND NOBLES NOOK EBOOKS. VESPER HELIOTROPIC, THE CRYSTAL TURBINES SERIES GRAPHIC NOVEL IS ALSO OUT NOW ON FULL COLOR GLOSSY PAPERBACK! 46 Pages Full Color Interior and Exterior – ONLY $19.99! –

www.VesperHelioTropic.com

88x31.png
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES by Neal Aaron Cormier is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES © Copyright 2011 Neal Cormier All Rights Reserved
Visit the Author’s Website – Neal Cormier Art

vh-erwache-ss1.jpg

18. Home Owners – VESPER HELIOTROPIC – Random Sample

A huge CAMBIAN Flag came out of the awning of Helen’s porch, making it look really small in comparison. Dwarfed beside it like a little sister, were the stars and stripes of the old republic–of course, the USC.

The Inner CAMBIAN core Emblem as it was framed in a circle, not a square. The CAMBIAN Emblem was black, set against a large white rectangle. A center circle had three stems with adjacent petals as if to rotate. It was surrounded by ‘U-Blue,’ the UNATRAD Trademarked Navy Colour.
There was no wind, it was flapping, billowing widely on its own Neau-Engine. 

“Mom, I am fucking un-motha-mikin’ comfortable in these shitz!”
“Rachael, please!”
“Mom, they like kill you slowly or something(!)”
“Pantyhose are what women used to wear, it’s normal Rach.”
“What slave women like you wear.” Her mom didn’t know what to say, as always…Read More…

– Copyright © Neal Cormier 2011 All Rights Reserved –

Neal Cormier is an artist and writer originally from the Washington D.C. area.
– www.NealCormier.com – His concentration is visual art–especially oil painting and graphic novel illustration.

He is also an up and coming fiction writer, of which Vesper Heliotropic is his first full length novel publication with Amazon, Barnes and Nobles (eBooks) and Lulu Inc. (for paperback & hardcover) Neal recently had a showing at National Airport in Arlington, VA (March 11 – June 25 in Terminal A). He also, and even more recently, had a first book signing for Vesper Heliotropic at The Midtown Scholar, a local hipster style bookstore in downtown Harrisburg, PA.

Neal has sold a variety of pieces to clients from around the world. His artwork has been shown in cafés, bars and galleries in New York City, Washington D.C., Paris and Alençon, France.

After high school, Neal attended the School of Visual Arts in New York City and spent four years living in both Brooklyn and Manhattan. He moved to France after this, and spent roughly about the same length of time in the region of Basse-Normandie, northern France. As a result, he speaks French and has a (tall) 9 year old daughter, Lili. He now resides back home in Crystal City, Virginia with his fiancé, Kristin.

List of Art & Media By Neal Cormier

Art & Blog

www.NealCormier.com

Web Design/Development Services

www.NealCormierWeb.com

The Novel’s Website

www.VesperHelioTropic.com

– Vesper Heliotropic is a general teen/adult sci-fi ebook, paperback and hardcover, and is a Steampunk(ish) serial novel. The first written publication is OUT NOW VIA LULU.com on PAPERBACK and SPECIAL-JACKETED HARDCOVER, and is available for THE AMAZON KINDLE as well as BARNES AND NOBLES NOOK EBOOKS. VESPER HELIOTROPIC, THE CRYSTAL TURBINES SERIES GRAPHIC NOVEL IS ALSO OUT NOW ON FULL COLOR GLOSSY PAPERBACK! 46 Pages Full Color Interior and Exterior – ONLY $19.99! –

www.VesperHelioTropic.com

Creative Commons License
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES by Neal Aaron Cormier is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License
Vesper Heliotropic Book I. CRYSTAL TURBINES © Copyright 2011 Neal Cormier All Rights Reserved
Visit the Author’s Website – Neal Cormier Art

Hyper-Sensitivity to Movement: We don’t like to read in the modern age.

We don’t like to read in the modern age because it does not give us the tactile fixation enough; that we take for granted in Video games and digital technology. Ereaders however, present a good electronification of ‘print.’For instance, an e-reader by nature lends itself more to walk around the room with, which I find myself doing quite often. I find it very gratifyingly, as close to my senses as I am, I notice the subtle gradations and flows and stops and starts of sensory involvement. Next will be eye-rubbing tactility built in to contact lenses through which our eyes tactilely communicate with an eBook.

My total vision of the future, is dramatized in My novel: www.VesperHelioTropic.com