Conference of the Cats

BELIAL: Observations from the Other Side of Insanity :: TRANSMISSION 01 ::

PRELIMINARY NOTE

Certain texts have been written in such a way that their meaning cannot be received all at once.

This is one of them.

It may be read as a story.

It may be read as satire.

Or it may be read as a record of certain observations regarding the behaviour of the human organism.

The choice, as always, rests with the reader.

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It’s a delightful old day, I have to say. Spring sunshine. Gentle breeze. Scent of wild roses and honeysuckle. England at its finest—one of the few places on this planet that occasionally justifies its continued existence.

I come to Earth every now and then. The “nows” and “thens” can be a fair while in Earth terms—currently 123 years. So I’ve seen local time pass from bakelite phones to Facebook. The Boer War (which really was a bore) to the brink of nuclear extinction—not a bad thing in fact, but it’s the animals I’m concerned about.

Anyway, this morning I shall make the most of the day. I’m over at Weeting in Norfolk, heading on foot across country to the “Twin Mounds” for a conference of the cats—or as my feline friends call it, “konference of the katz” (I suspect too much exposure to 2Pac).