War in La Jolla, eighth year, sixth entry
If the trees begin to grow back a little perhaps the theatre of war could move into late stages. The enemy is exhausted to their final tactics; anything and everything in the world must include dog, don't move or they begin the active event monitor (consider filling your operating system with audio events, we all did, around Win98 and equiv Linux side, when the wm became capable and the code filled with hooks to allow for audio event, and suddenly the user realized why you didn't want to have neat little audio events everywhere, when just a few years earlier it was a hobby to manage the small collection of audio events which were delicately selected for each individual application launch), once you quit moving then the event monitor goes into ping mode, rinse, repeat. The police have arrived on several occasions to clear damage, they aren't a repair crew (the US continues to eat losses as a refurbishing subcontractor for little known superwealthy areas to run extravagant dog wash events with eggo, with ridiculous numbers of eggs per omelet), but I have managed not to be killed. I am approaching the G-man from Half-Life. Half-Life itself is a nice approximation of the running ages of the world, across the repeats of the scripts and ages.
Consider. Packed to the dome, humans espouse from trees as top-of-the-food-chain birds, self-packaging in the brain and not reliant on respousal from the trees. Humans gave up their right to be intergalactic warlords (if they could find a way through the dome) for a chance to do this, that, and the other with these and those and them and go to there. Humans begin procreating, women begin letting go of gumbies (modern eunuchs put on a show of being pregnant, mothers that have difficulty letting go), gumbies begin working on larger humans like Uranos and Saturns and Zeus' offspring working on them (and Hera was always so perfectly polite by the etiquette numbers, wasn't she?), and some humans become frustrated, begin accumulating boogers, lose the ability to procreate. Adam (one earliest semblance of), for example, could sit in his tower bower of paper, dying off from methanol poisoning, and resurrecting every few minutes all day long; but he was not booger free enough (in the right places) to qualify for sticking the primer up the nose and unrolling inside-out, and he eventually froze in place like a gargoyle. Is the Leah and Rachel phenomenon; you served me for seven years to make your voice drop, you will serve for at least another seven to do anything silly even close to popping wings back out your butt or walking on your hands or unrolling... keep working on it... maybe it will take twenty-eight years to make it to the point of unrolling. Walk on the hands, or pop the wings back out and then walk on the hands, probably go through stages of making people cough, sneeze, give them a bad cold, knock them out cold, give groups of people the plague. Likely it takes a long time to make it back to where humans were at one time.
So packed to the dome some begin sitting around like Adam (too lazy to go for a walk), or on the walking routes they're doing it for the job and aren't putting their ankles into it properly, dragging their feet, and likely making a run from one juice pit to the next. In the juice pits the experienced drunks wait for them to pass out and then, when they wake up all soused, the drunk points to the tail of a griffon in the trees and, when the sleeper wakens with "*alcohol* ungh... What happened?", the drunk points to the griffons tail and says,"You did it! You managed to unroll! You made it! That's her!"
From the juice pits the wildlife and the trees claim back the spousal lineages which have not maintained their right to be self-packaging.
Humans on walking routes get into stonehenge clubs. Stonehenge clubs become a worldwide way of doing things, in the interest of regimenting the land. Stonehenge clubs differentiate and become covered halls. Covered halls assemble and popularize (some integrate into this little architectural box known as a tabernacle, for storage, because they don't make much money, but if they make money then they could be taken out and repositioned along the architectural lines), and form into Ninevah. This with the trees packed to the dome and humans working primarily on pressing paper and rolling baklava, not even fire and thread and soap yet. Ninevah turns to Sodom and Gomorrah at the top of the trees, worldwide network for regimenting the land for baklava rollers and delivering to drunks in the juice pits. Everybody is already going to hell. Everything is already green eggs and ham and eunuchs, at the top of the trees, with plenty of "real ones" coming from the gumbies out in the field. At some point the covered halls assembled in the cities delve basements, and the phairies and the dogs in the basement levels are able to make game of that, too. The Sodom and Gomorrah on top turns into the towers of Alderon on the way down, grandfather clock hourglass anvils from firepits swinging down through the depths. The wires and aging lineages of pokies bring Tyre and Sidon into the picture on the way down through the trees, the world is mined out, the monkies teach people how to roll their own from scratch, the nets are hung to catch the floodwater, the diamond anvil sacked out of the world cut up, polished diamonds shoved in every possible nook cranny and corner on the way down, the remainder hung as the moon in the sky just before they make it out of reach, and the roll your own technique perfected to from scratch as the last of the gumby prophets from the field quit growing up. Soon after there is no longer a difference between "real ones" and the ones just working in the model town, and everything is all worker class steam pressed ones working in the model town. The mine in the basement grows a mezzanine cover or two on the way down through the trees, the labyrinthian Alderon towers taken apart and reworked into a surface Ninevah with a Great Wall, pyramids, stonehenge, woodhenge, and easter island as roadmap markers of how the poop hit the fan on the way down, and about the last thing to happen before the final monks tried to end the world was to put the lawn troll, the sphinx, out in front of the pyramids. That's Seth: "If you ever make it past this fella *uproarious HAHAHAHAHA!* maybe you have a chance to join us."--the ones living out in the big house behind the lawn troll. The surface Ninevah turned to surface Sodom and Gomorrah and then surface Tyre and Sidon, to give an idea of how many times the stupidity of mankind of rolled over on the way down through the trees to hell. Then they tried to end the world because they were sitting on the sand over a few levels of wizard of oz machine and they knew everybody was going to hell, and then about two thousand years later Gad woke up and, bored enough to know that he wasn't dead, decided to set up the running surface carnival that we know and love today.
That's a good wire-frame model to wrap around the wikidot material. Pretty much covers everything from then to now. Does not really matter who made the terrarium, with hell down below. I have a theory. The si-p-honies, consider the size ratio between you and one of them. Sure, they're an old eunuch sewn together with a real dog and rolled into a seahorse then boiled down with a billion others in the bottom of nuclear reactor pool for a few thousand years, then the oil used to butter up old leather jerkins (vestal garments, to be specific) so they don't stick together all stacked up in the back of the warehouse, but they are as good a starting place as any. The size ratio is about, what, 5k:1? 10k:1? Maybe more. I consider that to maybe be about the size ratio between an individual of "us" and any potential "who could have made the terrarium?" So it doesn't really matter. What matters is... how bad do you want to stay out of hell?
The priests' servant with the ear to be cut off, that's the nonexistant maharaja, now that the hebrew doctors add to his cobra mistakes with castor bean mash extract (nerve agent). In the old days, when aladdin goes for his magic journey with his magic carpet looking for his magic lamp and his comeback, he'll walk over and meet jesus. Jesus and the old maharaja will sit around and spend a summer together and then maharaja goes back to finish his four frontier rehabilitation sewing project and make his comeback. Jesus continues on and nearly gets killed. Around the time that Jesus is nearly getting killed the maharaja, having made his comeback and celebrated his party, decides to walk off the party fat and make a circuit thanking people that entertained him in the foreign lands. Maharaja rearrives, according to the Great Wall and the sphinx, about the same day that Jesus is about ready to get clubbed down by the runtlings with torches. Maharaja saves Jesus and Jesus goes on to finish his rehab and drop his voice and be great big prophet. In new ages the maharaja is intercepted on the front end by the castor bean mash doctor (elijah with naaman), never makes the comeback, never comes back around to save Jesus. Jesus, instead of sitting around with maharaja, gets deep-sixed by the Nicodemus drinking crew. The replacement for maharaja in the script is this servant with his ear cut off (have some castor bean mash extract for the shoulder of your thumb, buddy) or this other guy in some other gospel that was siezed but slipped out of his tunic and went away (ie. he's not there anymore). Jesus is obviously convicted according to "Amen, Amen" is not "You will see" and "blah blah blah". They taunt Jesus with a reed ("Where's your stick?"), then take his reed away ("it belongs to the mean bitch in your head, but you will never unroll, so we get to keep it") and wind some thorns ("if you would have a stick then you would be winding the wisps around it, instead we wind this for YOU!"). On the cross they give him a reed with an alcohol sponge ("See? We got you drinking with the nico crew when you should have stuck with the reed!")..
The palm Sunday also talks of "This one is screaming for Elijah", and then there's all of this destruction and everything els, and then Elisha stands up. Some other ladies are there,"Look! A new one!" There's a nice classical painting of that, a blond with two little girls on either side, and you just know that's the paschal lamb. Then Joseph of Arimathea arrives, that's also "the wood of the holy cross" (ie. Elijah's own wood before Elisha stands up), and then those two other ladies are left there facing the, ahhh, damage... bethlehem.
Peter, James, and John, the three comets (center, left, and right), Orville and Wilbur on the right. Rightful thieves, because they actually asked for a room for a "master" on the way into town, meaning a travelling Levite with the temple paying the tab (and Judas does negotiate the room that the innkeeper never need meet Jesus until he figures out that he's being swindled).