Pink Dawn- In The Chinese Guarden At Holdon's Academy For A New Society

It was evening when the portly man of 70 came through iron door and through the iron gate out into the last bit of sunlight. An almost smile on his pudgy pock marked cheeks. He was on his way to meet Huxley about the interview series. He didn't know if he liked it, if he should allow it to happen but it was Huxley after all. Huxley who turned the world onto the notion of internal utopian societies. Huxley who helped to convince the investors when they doubted it would produce a profit. Huxley didn't care about money, far from it, but he knew if the setting was right the workers of the commune would produce more material than the people who remained living independently in the outer world. The outer world would then become a place for contemplation and rest. The great texts could be written and the Nova Sound System would begin to heal the planet returning it to it's verdant beginnings. It didn't work out that way, yet, though.

Dr. Holdon walked through the empty streets with the pretext shops. You cannot go inside them but they understand what you need out of them and the goods are dropped into a livery hole each morning. It's rare to see people walking the streets, though, as there was so little to do and you could be anywhere to place an order, including and mostly on the toilet. All you needed was the wallet vision application and you were good to go. On the corner of each street there were gaps. Holdon walked into a gap and there he was in dessert terrain. Here, there were a few people rummaging through trash bins. These people, known as outer denizens, live in a alter-reality and what they collect from the bins is recirculated back to the academy via ducts in the ground. For all intents and purposes these people are without sight. They do not see each other and they do not have a perception of their own bodies either. They have the physical function of picking trash but in their minds they are responsible for keeping the schedules of the elites. They also function as the communication vessel for the hippies at the academy. Holden knows some of them from their former lives as Wall Street executives. Their transformation was complete when their minds were completely blown. That was the end of stock trading, slave labor, world banks and national economies. To try and understand what happened is like trying to understand the beginning of existence itself. It was so sudden and complex that these people who once decided the fate of nations had their minds blown. The Theoretical Class grew out of this and Huxley was their guru. It should be understood that Huxley is a voice text. Huxley is a theoretical design of a fourth dimension entity. Some once said he came out of nowhere "and there he was."

When Holdon reached the end of the dessert alley he walked through a suspended gate and found Sheeky The Flab. Sheeky was smoking a huge blunt and offered some to Holdon. Holdon grabbed hold of the the giant missile and took a little puff and handed it back to Sheeky. Holdon knew well that if he didn't partake, Sheeky was liable to entreat him on the virtues of the Brahman weed. Holdon didn't have the time or the will to endure such a discourse. It was better he partake and exchange some glad trees and get into the chamber where Huxley held court.

Huxley, the emerald shining orb, greeted his friend Holdon and offered him Turkish coffee. Holdon took the coffee from the suspended vassal and sank into an air chair.

"I'm glad you made it. I was wondering if you were going to be a shithead and find one of your excuses not to come. Enough fucking of those dirty hippies, Holdon?" A voice emitted from the orb.

"I thought about being a shit head, as you say, but then I thought 'what's the use' and, for your information, I don't fuck hippies."

"Good for you Holdon, good for you. You don't want to get the disease." The orbs light glowed pink.

"This interview will need to be done one way or the other.' Said Holden "At some point, the Elite, because they are such assholes will start breathing down my neck. I can't stand to hear them whine. I need a new couch, they'll say, I need a new new blender to make my exotic drinks, they'll say. I need a new hippie maid to funk in the broom closet, they'll say. I really can't take it. I get no sleep. The whining, that fucking whining. Fuuuuuck!!

Holdon put his head in his hands and wiped his eyes.

"The hippies are also climbing up my asshole about every little thing lately. They want more food, more sex toys, more children more animals to have sexual entertainment with. I think this interview will prevent their revolt at least for the short term. I'm just walking a dog, here. They need to take a shit every hour or so. I can't get any sleep. Anyway, we'll give them the interview and the Elite will keep cracking their nuts and smoking their pipes instead of sending their inane elite signals to the lustful hippies. Those Fuckin hippies are a bunch of horny cats. They'll fuck anything and they love being dominated by the elites. I keep finding semen stains everywhere. Lately, they're just a bunch of angry, horny, fuckheads." Holdon couldn't contain himself....the Brahman weed was taking hold."

"Okay, Holdon, lie down now and try to relax you addled mind and I will give you the interview. Holdon, are you ready? It will come in long then short segments. Try to hold you mind on the segments. The long ones might break you, you'll think, but then they won't. I have trained you to concentrate. Now prepare yourself. Here, take some meth. There you go."

Thirty-six hours later it was over. The text was transmitted. Holden looked frazzled but he was okay. He was now getting fucked by a large brunette hippie. It was his reward. It made it happy. He couldn't deny it.

The orb, now jet black, entered the concentration chamber and asked the hippie to kindly leave the chamber.

Holdon put on his antiquated clothes as the orb explained the how the process went along and how Holdon had do a good job.


"You should be able to publish it for the Easter Celebration. Eventually, after the week long Festivities, the Elite will get bored or confused and wander off to fuck themselves over again. They think they need this to understand what THEY will mean to the ultimate plan. If all goes well we'll be able to break this cycle and enter into the agreement phase. That's all we can hope for, at this point, anyway. All of the players are a bunch of obstinate assholes, as you have claimed. This will, perhaps, be enough of a distraction to get us through to the next phase."

He was right.

Once the interview was published and the main splain was re calibrated, the hippies went back into production backing off full-fledged sexual revolt. The Easter Celebration was like a diaper that let the shit flow without there being too much of a mess for Holdon to clean up. After this burst of work, Holdon was glad he did the interview, after all, because at least it had stemmed the tide. The Elite went back to their family life. Holden was able to lie for a long nap, the speed was wearing off.