Carol, the Adventuress's Page

I am diagnosed by the witch of these people as having been entered into by a vorazhionne.



She says I cannot be pleased, will not enjoy, will empty any tent I enter, am incapable of dying.



I sit within an arm's length of the only acquaintances I possess who are able to pass through the time veil together with me and I cannot touch, can scarcely hear, them. The shimoom terrifies them. I am glad. It means we feel together.



I eat and am not fed. I… Continue

Such a terrible thing, the shimoom. Our balloon had floated, all safe, over islands, lakes, and oceans, over volcanoes and jungles and swamps and ice as far as the eye could see or the mind accept without madness.



And we had the dire fortune to land here, with the time machine inoperable and our supply of foodstuffs low. We have fallen upon a trackless and arid expanse of nothingness which stills the mouth, exhausts the body, and forever accosts the ear with its ringing emptiness. And… Continue

This is a copy of a message I posted to the Steamrats group in Seattle:



It would seem generally not to be the way of this list for people to post post-event "reviews" or tales from the road or whatever, but I really feel the urge to shower some praises.



First of all and by way of background, there is a sense in which I "grew up" in punk rock, in the early 80s. Sid was alive (so was Nancy) and if you weren't, yourself, actively doing whatever it took to get dead your… Continue

When an essential component of one's balloon requires immediate repair, and a price is quoted by a person presenting himself as qualified to perform it, it is only the naive traveler who imagines the price first spoken will be THE price and not a pleasant fiction related to the ultimate cost only to the degree one is able to summon one's ferocity or charm.



Un-naive, we have gone at the repairmen from every angle. Camelia has danced, I have threatened a complete emotional breakdown, the… Continue