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I have attempted to make myself relevant in this vacuous culture constructed by Slammy’s and enforced by the Trunks. For it seems now they are in it together (were they always?). I despise the products of this insane marriage, but oh how I want them to love me. I long for them to adopt me as their …

CALCIUM CALCULATES. HIS chalkboard filled with mathematical scribbles and chemical equations, he ponders. He paces. He stares out a still-standing window frame at his ruined town. He plays his burnt violin. Unearthly music. Modern Phrygian mode, I’m guessing. He goes back to the board. He practices…

With my suddenly free arm, I scoop up some ants from the hospital floor and try to find one with an introspective expression. Alas, they all look the same. And let’s face it, they all look stupid. I realize this is a form of bigotry or speciesism or just plain anti-antism on my part, and I am corre…

HERE IN THE cave, I attempt to hide from the ever-present battle. It’s almost impossible to focus on the Calcium memories what with all the explosions, nightmarish screaming, and gnashing of teeth. My boss, the editor of the Slammy’s Gazette, appears, suspendered, cigar-chomping, in my head and ord…

I just leave him there and enter the shell of Ingo’s apartment. The masterwork is gone. My future is gone. I fall to my knees amidst the wet ashes and weep, for humanity as much as for myself. Perhaps this would have been the work of art that would do what no other work of art has ever been able to…