Extracted Text

 

THE COMMENSURATE
METAMORPHOSE
AXIOMATIC
INCORRIGIBLE
TRANSCENDENT EVOLUTION

 

Or proportional change in the self-evident truth confirmed by spiritual development.

 

On the stairs to the gate I stopped a last time to check out my uniform. A last touch and then I was ready to enter the royal castle. The ceremonial uniform is different from the ordinary one. The pants are all white with a heel strap to stretch them and the jacket is red with golden side ribbons and buttons. I look really sharp with my gloves and the white patrol helmet. My shoes only needed dusting, they are made of the same material as the control panel on our flying patrol units and never ware out the shine. As I entered the gate, I bowed my head to the guards, laid my hand on the visitor registration board and went through our entrance. On the flights up to the reception my thoughts went back to yesterday when our King came to my house. He was calling my name while going around to my back yard. He always does that, respectful as he is. He took a chair and sat down beside my hammock where I rested and just started to shoot the breeze with me. I was exhausted from my yard work and had to pay attention so I would not fall down. We were talking about city planning, the latest game our team had in the stellar league, social rumors etc. We had a couple of Buzzers. That is the name of my own drink. Until he was about to leave I thought it was just a social visit. He was walking down my brick path surrounded by my newly planted tropical plants and turned around. He asked me if I could make it to the counselors meeting tomorrow. Every time guards attend to those meetings we have to ware full parade uniform. I never miss an opportunity to wear my parade uniform.
” Sure, I will be honored.” I said.

 

I did not know what was waiting for me. At the secretariat I was told to wait with the other guards until further notice. I walked over to our post and saw that all eight chairs were taken, except for the one closest to the door leading in to the office room. The well-groomed patrol where all familiar faces to me. Michael was there, an excellent soldier, and the best fencing swordsman and athlete around. He always had a smile on his face, a really funny guy with a lot of stuff in his department of worthless knowledge. Then there were the two brothers from the Lorien family. They have been governing the upper sector since the beginning a long time tradition you might say. Both Kolchak and Lupine have had the best teacher in their system in both defense and attack sports and carry their inheriting with grace. Heimi, Muar and Brouhad were with me on the last two assignments. We kicked some butt on one of the newest colonies. Since we were the only ones left on the duty list with the required experience and accountability we had to sign on. But as usual we straightened things out. Our way of scanning for opportunity together is really synchronized. We were awesome. In the chair next to me sat Eihmon. He is the most charismatic person in our entire platoon. There is nothing known in electronic engineering, nuclear and plasma physic or dimensional navigation that he does not know about. If there were anything it would not be worth knowing. As I sat down beside him he slapped me on my shoulder and asked me about life. He likes simple small talk. The door opened and our ruler called us in to the meeting room. Actually it is an enormous wing in the upper castle where all decisions are made. We all walked in and took our places along the green marble wall. The sun was reflecting its shine in the black stone floor. Two of the twenty windows that reached from the floor to the ceiling, on the opposite wall, had its green velvet curtains apart. The other strong light was above the giant conference table. It shone only on the table’s surface and not on the attending members. It also made it a calm and serious atmosphere. The issues where discussed among the cabinet members until united decisions were made. The meeting went along as any other day at the office you might say until it was time for the last subject on the agenda. The lights went off and the hologram came to life. First we all watched the information closely. It was from some remote place we had never seen before. The inhabitants were extremely primitive even though they were accomplished in some basic technical mechanics and electronic instruments. If they ever had heard of the spiritual dimensional laws, they surely did not act like they did. After the audio translation finished the introduction of the interception by our outer long scanners, we all just stared at the hologram with horror and our chins dropped… We all know what has to be done. A courier has to be sent over there for participation to make the opening for our intervention. Our King reached my mind and senses, that’s was when I understood why he called me to this meeting. I slowly looked around among my friends. They were all looking down with sadly bowed heads, as well as the cabinet members. This was an impossible task…

As I stood up and looked straight ahead I volunteered.

 

 

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I slowly came to my senses and felt my heavy liquor filled body ache. My brain was touching my skull everywhere in my head. Like a pumped up balloon with nowhere to go. It started to hurt with every pulse beat. My lips where dry and sticky as well as my mouth, it tasted like bad milk. Then I open my eyelids slowly and saw a pink flaked ceiling. My eyes walked around the faded white walls in the room. There were no pictures, just stains. I fought the gravitation with a grunt and sat up in my bed. I looked around the room slowly, while my pupils got synchronized. The simple furniture and interior could be from any century except for the little square worn out rug in the middle of the floor. Its knots were definitely from an early industrial machine with mid European design. I looked out through the window and saw… several big hogs poking around in the frozen dirt. There was no sign of utility poles, or other civilized landmarks. For a tenth of a second my chest cramped and instantly cold sweat entered the pours in my forehead. Where am I…? That woke me up all right! I was behind the Iron curtain as a citizen from the kingdom of Sweden. I left Scandinavia with a cul-de-sac track in the computer records. The Polish embassy and the custom in Copenhagen’s ferry terminal were the last to process my legitimate passport. I was probably the first financial thief that fled behind the Iron curtain, instead of to the sunny Mediterranean. I would have a ”stolen” passport waiting for me once I arrived in Berlin. It was actually my own that I could not find in the attic and therefore had to require a new one. That was my story to the officials. This would take me out of Eastern Europe and entering the West as non-existent. But for now I was an ordinary tourist, so I better get a grip on myself and stop boozing around anymore. Especially now, because I left Sweden accusing the Swedish Prime Minister of hostile activities towards the nation by filing and signing a complaint at the Department of Justice. I had facts only an insider could have known about him, and therefore I needed to be erased to get the Interpol off my back so I could continue my mission. When I stood up from my bed I had to side step to prevent from falling. I opened my suitcase and dug around for my soap and shampoo. The only time I speak Japanese is when I take a cold shower. It sounds like a medieval warlord in close combat. But now was the time for all the Asian language at the same time. Oh boy! At the reception I was told that hotel George was 20 kilometers outside Warsaw’s city limits. I asked the clerk for a taxi and he said that it would take about forty minutes to arrive. This gave me plenty of time for a breakfast with strong coffee. When I asked for a second run through the brewer the waitress looked and evaluated me. Her thoughts will remain unraveled. Even though I shaved, I was looking like a mummy with hollow eyes. The few other guests in the restaurant were not here to observe me; my inner scanning told me so. That meant that I lost the people that were waiting to tailgating me from the ferry terminal in Swinoujscie.

Henrik Mathias one – Earthly Resources nil.

 

 

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I was standing in the junction between E Street and 11th and looked at an apple on the sidewalk, green and fresh. Somebody put it there to see if I would pick it up. So this is how it is going to be from now on, trying to nail me with temptations in the sea of misery. Well, I will get the last screw. I had Emma in the cat cage and a toothbrush in my pocket. I was now not much more than an ant on the third rock from the sun, you could say. I started to walk towards the nearest subway station. When there was no eye in my direction I jumped over the gate and walked down to the tracks. I decide to take the orange line because it went furthest away from the city. Well, we managed it in the Caribbean so we can manage it here, no sweat. In complicated situations you just have to move your legs, that is all there is to it. The same evening I entered a community shelter in Fairfax. There was one bed available and I signed in as a cat owner. But since pets where not allowed, I had to take Emma the next day to the animal shelter in a veterinarian hospital close by. That was the last time I saw my traveling companion. He was put to sleep because of the rising bill, even though my address and phone number to the shelter was notified. But I guess that is the homeless people’s dilemma, no one bothers to reaches out to them. I spend all my money I had that day on a memorial ceremony for him with a biscuit and coffee in a tavern. The first month went by nicely for me at the shelter. There was lots of food and money to earn. I sold newspaper donated by a printer for the homeless to sell. The name was ”Street Smart” and went for a dollar per copy. It was printed so on the front page, for us to keep. I had no problem identifying with that name of the paper either. I believed in the product (salesmen’s rule #1) and sold it to store owners with more than 100% profit tip not included. On weekends I went to different shopping malls for window-shopping. Quite different from the tiny stores in the Caribbean I tell you. The first month I counted to twenty-two people who believed they were invisible and ”checked me out” for whatever purpose they had. It was not any particular intelligent move but I did not expect any other either. After so long a time to study and laying out hooks for me a simple ”Hello” would not do anymore. It would break the chess game for them. They are now down to almost the last card for them to play and stretching it so I was in for the long haul.

 

 

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My go-signal came two months later. I had found a guy at the restaurant that was willing to take over my rented room so the house owner would not be left stranded. I just owe him that. The opportunity started with a Saturday afternoon Pub hopping in DC and I happened to pass by 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue were a gang of guys was playing street hockey. Roller skates on the closed off street in front of the White House were something I could not resist. I went over there just when a game was over and they had broken up the teams. I asked the only goalie if I could use his gloves and make some moves. That was OK and I blocked the slap shots like I belonged in the hood. The next three and a half-hour I only let in five goals. I made the guys say ”Huge save man” many times. My sweatiest time that year but oh boy so much fun. Afterwards I got the goalies phone number. He wanted to play offensive more so I could take his place in the goal and use his equipment. I called him on Tuesday the following week to hear what was going on. Friday, he said, will we get together if it’s not raining. The listening tape recorder tapping the line would relay this information to its master. It been hooked-up out of curiosity and also because I was dumb enough not to suspect a phone tab it just might work. The last three weeks I had been preparing my missions final move. I went to the city the following day and walked around randomly ended up at the office buildings of the one hundred Senate members. As a visitor inside I noticed the many bike couriers propelling around. To be one I needed a map over the room directions, so I peeled one off in an elevator and later that week I bought a black bicycle helmet, bicycle racing tights and sports gloves. For the techie look I had already got a beeper that I found in a booth at the restaurant. They all had an archive box for mail storage so I bought one that looked like that but was a thermos box for food. Finally I bought one hundred envelops and address stickers. I was ready now. I even had a pair of bad shades to put on my forehead. I got busy with my electric typewriter from the pawn shop and was hammering down the keys like a twenty-second bull ride. Yhhiiiiihaa…

On that Friday I had arrange a shift swap with a work mate so that my shift ended after lunch. I went home as usually and I change my clothes. I looked now like I was going to play street hockey with ragged jeans and tennis shoes. But underneath I had a professional bicycle curries outfit. With me I had a lunch box for cool beverage (envelopes) and a small backpack (with bike helmet). I called for another cab and headed for the nearest Metro station. I did not get off at McPherson Square, which was the nearest station to the White House were the street hockey game would be but proceeded to the Congress station – Capitol South. The big white building with a dome at the end of a boulevard you so often see in the movies. I walked rapidly to the Senate office buildings located just beside it. I pass the security X-ray stations and took the elevator down to the culvert where the restroom was located to change my appearance. And out walked a bicycle courier with helmet and all. I only had ninety minutes before the public closing time, so I had to move fast. From my authentic archive box I pulled up envelopes to fifty-three secretaries throughout the floors. No snail mail here. I felt like a ton of bricks was lifted off my shoulders for every door I walked through. That is how ”Hallelujah” feels like in the material world. ”Public visiting hours is over so please leave the building” said a voice in the buildings speaker system. I worked my way down and was now on the third floor. From there I looked down at the atrium and saw a guy on the ground floor from internal mail empty mail drops. I walked down the nearest stares and walked up to him. I asked as a mailman to another if he could take the rest of my mail and “Make my day” (Quote from inspector Harry Callahan from San Francisco Police Department). ”Sure thing” he said and smiled.

I smiled back. This was just great, having internal mail deliver the ax chop. Not that my letter was of any particular content or rich on issues just an old fashion knuckle sandwich. I had made history finally and left behind me and my commander takes over from here. It was Friday the thirteen too, believe it or not! I walked in to the restroom situated by one of the exits and reappeared as a street punk. The security guard did not even looked up when I dip-walked out through the revolving door like a rap singer from Bronx. But the video camera saw me. I smile at it and out through the door I went. My ass was shaking, my dick swinging and I was smoking hot! The forecasted afternoon showers were gone now and the sun shined on all of us but I felt a few extra rays. After passing the office staff’s parking lot I came to a little side street and a cab came rolling down. I had been in there for almost two hours so my advantage was gone now. I let their undercover wheels pass me by. But I waved down another cab a few blocks later. I told the driver to go to the nearest post office in a hurry because I had mail to several newspapers and TV stations to send. We were dodging around the rush hour traffic in the fast lane. He told me in a confidence tone that he had several diplomas in Kamikaze drag racing so there was no need for me to turn pale with a frozen expression on my face. It was almost closing time now for priority mail so I promised an extra ten bucks if we made it and that burned some rubber.

Henrik Mathias one – Powerful politics nil.

 

 

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It happened at a gas station in Birmingham Alabama. After I had fueled up I went in to pay and also to visit the restroom. When I came out again to the car, another person was sitting in the front passenger seat. It got me really surprised. I started to walk towards the car and when I saw whom it was I almost flipped over. It was Eihmon from my platoon. I was…(?)… I could not…(?) Waoow! I went in to the driver seat and just stared at him. He smiled at me and said:
”Well, what a nice ride you got. You improved, must be on vacation HM my man” I looked at Eihmon and started to make a comment but then we just started to laugh together. A friend like that does not exist in the mortal world. We were eternal friends and now he had step out of duty risking a lot to see me. He pulled up a beer from his pocket and started to zip on it while I was driving thru the city. After some small talk I asked him: ”So how is life in the fleet this days.”
”Boring, they just hovering in the oceans, collecting and processing data from this planet. Are they not ready to intercept yet? ” he asked.
”I should think so. I just finished my mission.” I replied.
”With brilliance too I may add.” he said and continued:
”We all know that since you been monitored back home by linked transmissions.”
”Just like the inhabitants been monitor me with a microphone up my —.” I let some steam go off and Eihmon understood that very well. He was drinking quietly until we got back on the southbound highway 79 then he said:
”Isn’t there any descent music on this radio. How can you drive with these loony tunes? ”
He then started to turn the dial and found a rock station. A tune faded out and the next one came on. It was AC/DC playing Highway to Hell. Just when the refrain started did two guys in a pick-up truck pass us with a huge south federation state flag flapping from a pole. They looked like actors from the movie Conan the Barbarian but with more tattoos and leather gear. This is how it looks like when you are on the highway to hell and through Ku Klux Klan territory as well. But we never saw cone headed men in togas.
”So, what’s up. Where are you going from here then ? ” asked Eihmon.
”Well. A man gotta’ to do what a man gotta’ to do.” I actually said that corny line and continued:
”Since I got away from them so easily they will probably looking for me all over Northern Virginia, DC and Maryland soon. Thinking I’m hiding out with the homeless people sleeping under a bridge or something. So I think I’ll let them sweat it out for a couple of months. That might teach them something, exposing helplessness even with all their high tech stuff.
” Oioijoij.” Said Eihmon with a surprised smile and raised eye browse.
”The old bad tooth is showing again huh.” He giggled and I looked over at him and nodded twice.
”They can’t expose me in the media here as they did over in Scandinavia. It would really look foolish now on their part to admit that they lost my tracks. And now I have a name and a number to live under too. A low class restaurant would accept my excuse about how I got my Hispanic name from my Portuguese grandfather.Theatrics performance is a specialty of mine ya’ know. You’ll watch me now Eihmom.”
”Yeah I’ll do that HM but be flexible in your time management memo ol’ buddy.”
I could see the logic in that but I did not think at the moment that I needed to reflect on it so much. Instead we started to talk about old missions and compare them with this one. The scenery changed with the suns falling and we were cruising on the long bridge crossing the Louisiana bay with the headlights on. It was now dark and I steered towards the neon lights on Bourbon Street in down town New Orleans. Somehow I know that Eihmon needed to go back soon to his duties. So a couple of pitchers over a Cajun meal would hit the spot. During the dinner he did not asked if I would go back with him. He knows I say so if I would. He suspected I wanted to ride them all to the ground now and admired me for that. That became our mutual secret. Our friendship vibes speeded up a little bit before the nostalgic moment of ”goodbye for now” and we both felt the distance to our home world. At closing time he stood up and left me with flamboyance jests and walking away like a penguin, imitating some tourists in front of him. I smiled and lit up my cigar promising myself I will be one of those that closing up this century, yes even this millennium.
Henrik Mathias one – Little devils nil.

 

 

 

 

We arrived to Rio Grande after dark. I stepped of the bus and saw a huge light-up flag swaying and I looked at it for a moment while generated power from it. I became charge up again like the Hulk. The Stars and Stripes is a beautiful symbol. So here I was finally in John Wayne country. I said goodbye to my cowboy friend and started to walk on the abandoned city streets. To save money I had to sleep in an alley but the police cars were patrolling everywhere because as a border town with illegal immigrants. So I slept on a roof where no one could see me. The next morning I went to the main street to get some breakfast. With a stuffed stomach I walked over to the Brownsville Collage campus and the library there. I fell asleep in a big chair with a big atlas in my lap. The northeastern Mexico was folded up but not too obvious. I had also asked the clerk for a railroad map over the territory. That is two clues. When I woke up it would be time for rascal tricks. On my trip down we passed Harlingen on route 77 and I noticed a big railroad junction with a lot of commotion going on. So I bought a bus ticket back to Harlingen and took the thirty-minute ride from Brownsville with the evening Greyhound bus bound for Houston. I relaxed in my seat, taking valuable rest. Last night was not so comfortable. Before I left the bus I censored a watcher in the front. Confirmation for that I had them on the hook again! I made sure that it was easy to spot me as I left the bus station walking a few blocks to the railroad tracks. The closest track to the highway was the main one and I waited under a street light for the next train to come. Since it is going through the town the train would have a pretty slow pace, enough to run up against and jump on to. After about an hour it came, the big noisy iron horse with its cyclone eye glowing in the dark. I walked rapidly over the street, climbed up between two train cars and waited. It was about three meters between the two tracks, so it was plenty of room to make the jump. And the nice part was that I was visible for the passing cars. So when the train was passing and making me bundetected from the street, I climbed down to the other side of the parked train car. Quickly crossing several tracks fast and heading for the reloading area. I found an open cargo car and jumped in there. There was several cardboard in there to rest on and I smiled to myself when I closed the door. I made myself lost for them again.

Henrik Mathias one – Texas Rangers nil.

 

 

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That should surprise them like an electric stun gun. I made an artistic moment of silent while taking up a candle light from my pocket. I light it up and put it on the podium. After looking at it for a little while I looked up and inhaled.
”In the movie Apocalypse now said Robert Duvall, one of the grates actors in our time that Napalm smells like victory. He was almost right. It is actually candle wax.” I had seen Mr. Duvall in his seat just after I entered the stage and looked over to him with a smile. Everybody participating from the movie industry agreed quietly and he was blushed with honor. I started to dig into my mind after a red tread in my opening and dove in to a sea of poetical accessories… I surfaced.
”Ants are the smallest you compare yourself with. But still, five of them are more than four elephants, a mathematical fact. You also call them primitive beings. The definition of primitive is an early stage of development and lack of perspective. But they have lived and worked hard for more than 60 million years (Families that stack together stick together). To them you are 0.00000003 in the fauna perspective. What you call Heaven is an older place with its eternal lifestyles, so where would you fit in? ”. That was pretty good. I continued like an arched cat ready to pound.
”Churches predict, and try to tell you how to reach heaven not knowing what it’s like there. So what do they know? I will later explain how the longer you live; the greater proportional change in the self-evident truth will increase by physical form…”
That was an awfully strong statement. I better get away from this thin ice. I bought some time by looking in my pockets, to snake me out of this fine mess I got myself in to (quote from Stan Laurel & Ollie Hardy). I slapped my astral body. No more slipping and sliding, I have to stay up on my legs from now on. No more Bambi on ice.
”I’ve been exposed in the media by the country’s controller I lived in, more than 200 months ago, because they didn’t need any help from us. And also wanted to make me surrender, proving I wasn’t capable to ride out the storm or standing tall without shaking in my boots. Now, that’s a principal impossibility. Actor Mr. Jim Carrey just recently made the movie The Truman Story. The only different is instead of a huge dome it was a small country in my case and full of toothless old women. The war of nerves and guts between them and me proceeded without a single battle lost for me. They don’t even know I’m here now. Please let me do a little demonstration for you what kind of acting this chess game required. So for that I need a volunteer. I looked over the audience of actors and found the charming smile of Mr. Harrison Ford. We got eye contact and I beckoned to him to come up on the stage. At first he got a small mouth and wide eyes but them looked around a put on his winning smile again and left his seat. I bet his was thinking ”Well, I’m a hero after all” while climbing up to the stage. But most likely, like everybody else, was wondering what this clown up there think he is going to teach us…
”Thank you Han Solo for being a puzzle piece in the Star Fleet Federation.” I said with a sincere smile while looking between his eyes. He did not get any eye contact from me and that throw him off guard a little.
”Pretend we are on a busy city sidewalk in Europe, about 6-8 meters wide and you doing some window-shopping. You have to look up too so you not bumping in to someone. “Please Mr. Ford go over to the other side of this stage.” And so he did. He turned around and looked at me.
”Walk towards me and pretend that you looking into windows on your left side.”
His left side was facing the back drop curtain and I started to walk towards him on his right side so the audience would see clearer what I was going to do. I was 2 meter aside in a parallel walk. When we met I took a quick side step and shuffle my elbow in his side. He stopped and faced me with question marks all over his face like freckles.
”Now Mr. Ford wouldn’t you say this mean – Watch it, we know where you are. Wake up, don’t keep your distance. We are in control of the situation.”
He just nodded and had nothing further to add.
”So please do as I did now and I will act on my behalf.”
He walked over to the other side as I walked to his starting side on the other side of the stage. We started to walk towards each other and I did the window-shopping by looking at the curtains. When we were about to meet I looked away and he did the side step, swinging his elbow at my waist. I took a fast side step preventing his blow. He stumbled while I stepped back in my path again, turned around and looked at him.
”Now what kind of statement did I just make… turning my head away from you and all?”.
I looked out over the audience to make them think this too. I met Jack Nicolson’s astonished eyes; he was not wearing sunglasses surprisingly. Maybe he can handle the truth without them. I then slowly looked back at Mr. Ford.

”Picture the clever ones sitting in their quarter, talking and planning. They just wanted to try another angle since the other ones didn’t work. In this street bout they will have one agent in front of me, on behind and one across the street to study my moves, face expressions and body language.” I said. I received a nodding from Mr. Ford.
”The first five times he was probably not even aware of our attempt, they thought, since I just dodged and didn’t show any reactions. The next ten tries didn’t result in any reaction on my behalf, or elbow hit for that matter. A statistically pattern started to show now but they were determent to get at least one hit in my side. Even they recognized the stupidity in failing now. It seemed impossible to them that I can scan out crowds and individual purpose. So the next three weeks they tried another twenty-two times to nail me. After eighty times that summer I stopped counting their attempts to bounce me.”
I then put on my loudest face expression for five seconds (Henrik Mathias one – Stupid clowns nil) and continued:

“They figure I must be so stupid not to notice their effort that they started to ask me what time it was everywhere I went. You see, confused persons have a time disorder. But me, oh no, I was never off more than twenty minutes no matter what time of the day it was. Didn’t need any wristwatch there, time is on my side and I took their heat too well, not even a blister and without sun blocks.”. That was enough introductions about me. It is time to hit the actor’s vanity now. I thanked Mr. Harrison Ford for his assistance and I waited for him to leave the stage before I smoothly would switch the subject. He was walking down shaken, not stirred.

 

 

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How did your return first manifested itself?
How do you now see on current Swedish politics?
So how was the Swedish economy before entering the EU?
Have they always been so careless?
Is the new generation any different than yours from the ‘70s?
Looking ahead what would the solution be for the youth and its multiplicity?
My final question is can the afterlife affect our living and attitude here on earth today?