The Crossroads of the Aether
Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, I hereby formally invite you to attend The Accepted Cog Saloon.
For all those worried about the time of day, do not fret. I have oft heard the saying "it is 5'oclock on Friday somewhere." Well I fed this data into my analytical engine, then plugged it into one of Mr. Steampunker's temporal iris machines. Once the crank on the tabulator was turned, Eureka, a temporal time shift bubble encased the saloon. Once you enter the doors of this place, it is 5 of the clock on a Friday afternoon, and you can pack up your worries and enjoy it like it is the weekend tomorrow.
What happens after you leave the temporal bubble is your problem, sorry.
Want a beverage or foodstuff that does not exist in England in the Year 18..? Do not fret. A well respected author I refer to a lot discovered L-space, that dimension created by the accumulation of knowledge into which all libraries in time and space are linked.
I reasoned that since once alcohol is consumed people seem to know everything, the same principles could be applied here, thus:
Alcohol=knowledge, knowledge=power, power = energy, energy=matter, and matter=mass.
Since mass has the ability to warp space, this formulae allowed me to punch through the barrier of space and time and link all places where alcohol is served via B-space, wherever and whenever they may be. So, request a food or drink, and I shall navigate the labyrinth of B-space to find you your desire (by removing it from another’s establishment) and return to you in mere moments. There is a karma in it all, as I have allowed other barkeeps entrance to the system, so we all borrow from each other.
So, come one, come all, park your air ships on the roof, shrug off your jetpacks and coats, wipe the coal dust from your cheeks, and come in for an evening of entertainment and lively discussion.
*makes pouty face and drains the last of her tea*
How I hate to leave off visiting when I haven't seen you in such a long time...but it is almost three in RL by me and I can hear the goddess of sleep called my name...can barely keep my eyes open.
:) Goodnight Contessa!
*Enters saloon and takes a table near the refurbished window. Removes several objects from kit bag: pince nez, rose hued stationery and quill pen, and folded missive. Orders chilled mimosa from the back, and settles in to make heads or tails of the note's contents*
Does anyone here in this infernal Cog Saloon understand poetry? This morning I found this in a cabinet of the caravan and darn it if I haven't spent the majority of the day trying to decipher its meaning. I have no idea how it got there...sheer mystery to me. I was told when I bought my little Irish transportation that the vehicle was being built brand new for me-- perhaps I have bamboozled! It may have had former owners...
The verse is nonsensical to me....anyone out there care to figure it out? Shahbanoo...James... zombie in the back room? Gulaz?
The topaz brilliance of the sun
Blinds me as I awake
To begin another day.
Like your vision when a dream is denied.
The olive branches of my soul dip down,
Weighted by the burden,
The massive call to order that the brain craves.
Order and semblance,
Choking artistic genius.
Reveling in control,
The words, the moment
Slipping away through
Silken tips of fingers.
Returning never more
But as a memory
In that topaz hued morning,
Arms outstretched in supplication,
Seeking beauty in form.
Polishes glasses on sleeve. "Well, i believe it is a transcendental attempt to immutilise the common mundane of life, made so through reference to the paradisical nature of the dreamscape one can harbour themselves in."
(and with that, to bed!)
Oh well now.... **reads it over a couple of times**
I'm not sure my guessing could do it justice. Poetically I am just not very good in English, as English poetry is just so foreign to anything that I've grown up and grown old with... Not to say I don't love reading it though... It's just to have me analyze it would not necessarily yield proper results, since I can't/don't understand it in the same context a Westerner does.
Before I begin, Contessa, this begs a question. Is this yours or someone else's in RL.
Pure topaz is a colourless gem stone, but it is seldom found in a pure state. More often than not it his multi-coloured. The Sun, as well, is a colourless orb and can certainly blind one looking directly at it.
Having blathered all of that, I am left-brained; what you have is a rather flowery description of an unwanted reality.
Isaac stumbled in to The Cog, almost loosing his footing as he landed beside the bar, bracing the counter for support. He shook his head and looked up at James. "Oh," Isaac jumped. "Hey there James!" Isaac wiped some blood off his chin and sat down, ordering a fine ale.
"Hope I didn't interrupt anything with that," he laughed.