Marble blocks were placed as markers at regular intervals. Denials were official. Recitations were long public events. Carnival food and prizes could be found towards the back.
Livraria Lello & Irmão, Central Porto, Portugal, circa 1906. (Photo by Aurélio da Paz dos Reis)
The elixir vitae was handed out on a street corner from a large plastic cooler, an insulated bucket, red and orange, with the image of a phoenix. Dewy with sumptuous condensation. As the two company representatives, young, fit, immortal, quickly grabbed the short, thin cans from the cooler, their inviting body language telegraphed the important, catchy slogans "Immortality In A Can" and "Tastes Great You'll Live Forever". As people passed, a few accepted these gifts, cracking open the can like an aluminum coconut, releasing the sounds of a long sigh and the breath of a new born. Soon they would live forever too. The elixir tasted lite, as clear as the blue sky, with the faint odor of delirium and ginger, of freshly cut grass, of a brilliant full moon, of a box of puppies. The carbonation was subtle. When you drank it the sunken hollows of your flesh filled in as if seraphim jammed a straw up your ass and inflated you with heavenly gases. Your complexion, perfect again. You were thin again. You were strong again. Your tits were perky again. You had a hard-on again. Your hair flowed with the lustrous quality of a thousand muscled sailors on shore leave. And laughter — with each gulp laughter erupts without any provocation or motive, without the slightest hindrances or bitterness or irony. The trappings of the world are no longer of any concern to you, after all, being immortal means never having to be preoccupied by strategies to avoid decay. One can. Only one can a day, to remain alive forever.
She presented herself to him wearing the skin of that thing they found in the barn. “Do you like it?” she asked.
Perhaps the most fantastic of the atomic toys was this 1946 “Atomic Bomber” arcade game by Mutoscope–“not for enormous destruction–but for enormous pleasure” https://longstreet.typepad.com/thesciencebookstore/2013/12/atomic-bombing-not-for-enormous-destruction-but-for-enormous-pleasure-1946.html
A Burmese map of the world, showing traces of Medieval European map-making. 1906 https://digitalcollections.nypl.org/items/510d47d9-a8a6-a3d9-e040-e00a18064a99
The fetus robots were designed by an interstellar slime mold that was acting purely out of spite.
Paul Wunderlich http://doorofperception.com/2018/07/paul-wunderlich/
The Council refused to meet until their shipment of DELISHUS was cleared at the border. There could be no more compromises.
Katsuhiro Otomo 1981
A Thousand Hands
By the slippery rock. Beyond the stagnant pool. After the fallen glade. Consider the orientation of the guiding star. Assume a neutral alignment. Don't worry. As the light is filtered, you will become aware of the various environments, those that co-exist. The rocks that you've left behind yourself as a trail will no longer be necessary. Return will seem obscene. Throw away the glasses, you will no longer need them, they will sink into the earth, rot slowly, mushrooms will grow up from them, wet moss will see through them. Proceed steadily, but not hastily, past the rock wall, being aware that you must never look up. This would be disastrous, you must never, ever, look up at what lives above the rock wall. Then, there, you will find the caves. Descend carefully. You do not need to fear the dark, soon you will adjust. By the images of the hands, a thousand, a million of them, it doesn't matter, these are our hands. We painted them each, to make sure we would be remembered, while understanding the futility of such an action. By the roaring stream. In the cave. It might be difficult, it might have changed through the ages, but you must cross the stream. You will find the entrance, and in that room you'll find the way we went, the final position of the dials, the proper switches, it should tell you where we are.
After the time storm cleared they found old girlie magazines, the wing of an airplane, dozens of mismatched shoes, holographic access cards, and confused sanitary bots all along the beach.
I decided on replacing mine with huge bioluminescent legs like a frog. She decided on putting tentacles where her arms had been. The whole procedure came in at half price with coupons.