The lights sputtered from the dark -- not quite like the twinkling of stars in the cosmos -- but more like the linear and serial blinkings of a monstrous machine.
Antares stared out from his new set of eyes. He tried to make sense out of what he saw -- or for that matter the very fact that he saw at all. It had been a long time since he had inhabited a body (though a long time from Antares point view was not a concept that made much sense). But still it had been a long time since he had had any sort of corporeal form, especially a human form. It took him a while to remember what the lights meant, where he was, what he was looking at.
Colored lights pulsed. The environment was filled with a throbbing sound. His newly discovered ears hurt with the repeated jackhammer like booms. The thing called his head seemed to be in pain -- but he wasn't sure since it had been so long since pain meant had anything to him.
In front of him was an elevated platform. The blinking lights were sending colored rainbow beams onto the floor of the platform. The platform was a stage and on it was a figure of sort that was moving. Antares strained to make sense of what was moving in front of him. It was a being, similar to the form he had just connected with -- but different. He tried to feel the difference. Then he remembered. The form on the stage was female.
On the plane of earth, the corporeal aspects of the beings were separated into two kinds -- something to do with evolution. He examined the form he was in. He felt the blood flow, the heart beat, the tingling of the skin, the magnetism of this body to the form on the stage. He was male. The being on stage female.
Antares examined the female on the stage. It was quite nice. He felt the attraction. He looked around the room where he was in and noticed that it was filled with other beings, for the most part people and all males. All of them staring magnetically up at the writhing female. Interestingly he felt that all the men were draped in a variety of cloths -- it was called clothing. The female did not wear clothes. Nude was the word.
The female moved its body, making its limbs thrash about, undulated its torso, its hips.
The room was filled with a powerful wave, that was thick -- so thick and heavy was this wave of energy that Antares felt a little sick from it. It was as though he was swimming in a heavy sweet goo, that was too rich, that took time getting use to. It was though this animalscent of sensuality was too rich to imbibe. Antares sensed the wave's addictive quality.
Antares examined the body he was inhabiting. It was thick and muscular, strong with a powerful energy. It had a fair amount of black hair all over it -- on the hands and chest, and under the nose and just over the lip was an itchy fuzzy strip of hair.
The body was a good form. There seemed to be a scar on the abdomen, where some operation had been performed. Down beneath the torso was an appendage. It was hard and large, almost seemed to hurt in its present throbbing state, erect with blood.
Antares turned its attention to the mind of this form. It was buzzing with activity. Electrical impulses were firing at an intense and seeming random design. By stretching its own intuitive feeling, Antares began to understand, to translate the buzz of brainwave activity into the essence of its meanings, from the domain of thoughts into the world of meaning that lay in the invisible realm -- the place where Antares resided.
The mind of the body began to make sense. Antares listened to what it was saying -- to no one in particular, except perhaps to itself: "What a great fuckin' ass." "What a great fuckin' ass." "What a great fuckin' ass."
Antares decided to wait and bide his new found time.
* * * *
Look Doc, I'm not crazy. I'm telling you. I'm not crazy. You gotta believe me. It wasn't me that was doing that shit when the police picked me up. It wasn't me. It was that other creep...Fred or Antares or whatever. He's always changing names. I don't know. Maybe there's more than one of them. But it wasn't me. I'd never do shit like that. I mean taking my fucking clothes off in the fountain at Rockefeller Center. What kind exhibitionist pervert do you think I am? Come on now what do you think -- that I'm fuckin' crazy or something.
You gotta understand. It just happened. Okay. Let me try again to explain it. I'll try to start from the beginning. But I'm not fuckin' crazy. Look the first time anything happened I was at Runway 69 -- you know that strip bar down by the airport. That's the strip joint with the Celia ...sweeeet Jesus, she's got the greatest fucking ass...Ah-ha, you know the place, huh?
* * * *
Antares decided to just wait, watch and listen. Watching and listening was what Antares did best. The other planes of existence are beautiful, but there never really is any sense of time there, so there is no real sense of waiting. One just watched and listened. Yet, some where within each being there was a deep yearning, this sort of pressure to grow, to change. It had something to do with being close to the Godhead. Antares knew this, though there was no need to put it into words. But it was that prompting that always directed him to return to the Earth planes, to try on the robes of time and space and materiality. For it was only there in this realm that he could sense the friction of growth.
Usually the trips to the Earth plane were into a newborn infant. Though on occasion you could find a fully formed adult that had yet to be inhabited. It was always an interesting experience to land in an adult. To find an available fully-grown adult use to be almost impossible, but the facts of animal evolution were making such events more and more possible. All of its opinions and views about the world had been fully formed. It was totally animal, totally material, with no spiritual inclinations. It was a much more interesting and challenging experience to find oneself in a fully-grown animal instead of a baby. Much more earth bound. This was going to be a very interesting lifetime.
* * * *
Look, Doc, I was just sitting at the bar and Celia was strutting her stuff. Best ass in the business. It sort of just hangs out there in space like one of those cantilevered roofs -- just sort of sticking out with no means of visible support -- know what I mean...
Anyway, the music is going like crazy, all the lights are flashing -- and then like... um, there is this funny feeling I get. Sort of in me but not in me. The air just seemed to be full of rippling stuff that went right through me. I mean that's some pretty weird shit, huh? But nothing was really different because Celia was still doing her shtick. The music still going strong.
So there I am getting off on Celia, but I feel a little funny, know what I mean. It's sort of like I'm not alone. You know that creepy feeling when you think someone is reading the newspaper over your shoulder on the subway. Yeah, that's the feeling, when some asshole is trying to read the newspaper on the subway, because the creep's too fucking cheap to buy his own. Yeah, that was the feeling all right.
* * * *
Antares watched and waited. The female on the platform finished her dance as the music stopped. Antares noticed how much he enjoyed the silence or rather the impact of all that stimulation and its sudden cessation. The human form reached for a bottle and brought it up to its lips. A rush of cold, foaming liquid poured down the mouth, tongue and throat of the being. It caught Antares by surprise -- not only did the liquid taste awful - but the body seemed to like it, even though there was something in the liquid that made Antares reel. The liquid seemed to contain an inebriant that was affecting the mental and physical makeup of the being. Antares analyzed the contents of the hidden ingredient and discovered that it was a subtle poison that the man was feeding himself -- on purpose. He checked the creature's memory banks and discovered that indeed the man knew that the liquid wasn't good for its body, but it was doing it anyway. This was going to be a most interesting visit indeed. Antares decided that perhaps he would wait a while until he introduced himself.
* * * * *
Well, Doc, this is sort of what happened next. I guess I knocked off a few more beers, just to sort shake that creepy feeling. So I guess I was really plowed. I mean, you know, it's not every day that you get visited by a creep from Mars.
So I get up to go. But I gotta go to the john -- take a leak... you know, from all the booze. So I'm standing there at the urinal. I mean the place is so fucking bright all those lights. Anyway I'm standing there with my pecker hanging out. Hey, I'm not offending you, am I, Doc. I don't know, fancy folks like you sometimes don't like this kind of regular talk. But I'm an honest kinda guy; I just let it all hang out.
Anyway there I am all sort of just there. And then it comes again. That feeling that someone is watching. I mean I looked all over the place, but I swear I was alone, except for some asshole barfing in the crapola. But there it is again. That feeling, like some nerdy science type is watching. You know, like the way those creepo wok heads who always did so fucking hot on the math tests in high school. You know, they way they'd always look at you behind those real thick glasses that made there heads look all funny and weird.
I mean you ever try to pee when someone's looking right down at your wang.
Well, I made it out of there and got over to my car. Hey man, it's a brand new coupe, raised wheels in the back, racing stripes, the whole bit. Now I guess I was really pissed. I mean I usually don't drink that much, but anyway....
So I'm trying to get home pronto... You know, I gotta get up early to get to work the next day, so I maybe I was driving a little fast. Who knows, maybe 90. Hell, that coupe can break 120 easy.
Anyway we're plowing along.... Shit, I'm still saying "we" like I'm some fucking Queen Elizabeth or something. So I'm plowing along, going over a bridge, an overpass or something like that -- and suddenly out of nowhere there's these lights right in front of me ... a school bus or something. I mean, shit, what's a school bus doing out at that hour. I mean that's it. There's no way I can get out of the way. I'm plowing right into it. That's it... I'm gone.... check out time. Can't even say goodbye or pray. Boom, the end. Suddenly the fucking bus is right there just a bunch of bright lights in my eyes. I figure that's it.
But then suddenly, something just sort of took over, like some else grabbed the wheel... I mean, sure it was my hands, my arms, but it wasn't me. I was gone, plowed under. But suddenly this thing takes over and it swerves the car... Zoom... up onto the sidewalk and crashes through the railings and we fly right out into the air. I mean, if you don't think that's not finito... But no, we just fly out and the thing just stays in control and we come crashing down on the highway below, but going the wrong way... then we swerve in and out of the cars coming right at us. You never saw anything like it, like we were in the middle of one of those James Bond movies.
And then the car crashes over the divider and gets in the right lane.
Next thing I know it's morning and I'm in bed and I got this fucking hangover you wouldn't believe. My head was pounding like some fucking blown tire. So I figure, Jesus what a weird fucking' dream -- I mean, I figured it was just a dream, right. But hell I gotta go to work, so I drag myself up and without even taking a leak... I'm late anyway. So I go out to the driveway and fuck... guess what I see! The car's all smashed up, just like in the dream.
I mean, Doc, that's when I really got the shits. It was just like fuckin' Twilight Zone.
* * * *
Antares had not meant to interfere, at least not this early in the relationship with the earthman. But intervention seemed necessary as the man seemed to be about to destroy the form that Antares was inhabiting and unduly shorten the incarnation.
Antares had tried not to interfere until the very last possible moment. But the situation was deteriorating rapidly, so Antares felt that there was justification to intervene.
It took just a few quick evasive moves and they were quite safe.
Unfortunately the experience -- especially the part where Antares suspended the vehicle in mid-air seemed to overload some of the electrical circuitry of the man's brain and he did lose consciousness.
So Antares was forced to drive the vehicle to the man's residence.
Antares found the adventure of actually engaging the form and the material plane this early in the lifetime a bit difficult at first. But Antares found itself quickly acclimating to the environment. Actually Antares enjoyed holding the steering wheel of the car. It was the first object it had held for quite some time (though once again time is not quite the right word). Antares enjoyed the sense of motion, the vibrations, the slight undulations of the vehicle traversing the road. The material plane does hath its charm.
Antares drove the vehicle through the night and wondered where they were going. The form of the man was well trained in handling the vehicle, so the actual driving was quite simple. The man though was quite unconscious. Which was nice, because Antares could enjoy the form without any interference from an inebriated primordial mind.
Antares rummaged around in the mind's memory banks and came up with the mappings of how to bring the vehicle to where the man resided.
Antares followed the route and indeed the image of a small apartment house appeared on the road, similar, but not exactly, to the apartment as pictured in the man's memory banks. Antares parked the vehicle and helped guide the form through its ritual of locking the car door, walking up the stairs, unlocking the front door, taking the elevator and finding its own apartment.
These particular electrical synapse pathways were well worn and Antares could just let the machine-like aspect of the man follow its own routine.
The apartment of the man was quite disordered. Dirty dishes filled the sink. Rumpled clothes were left all over the floor and furniture. The carpet was stained and dusty. There was a foul odor of some sort of decaying flesh coming from the garbage can.
The state of the apartment reminded Antares of the idea of Chaos. Not an actual word called chaos, of course, but more or less an unsaid state that was somehow reflected in the state of the apartment. But as Antares felt the comparison of ideas, it realized that the man's apartment was not real chaos but just disorder. For Antares Chaos was the pure formlessness from which all order sprang. The man's apartment was order that had turned into disorder. Not the same thing as Chaos at all.
Antares decided they could wait a few earth hours before they started to clean up the apartment.
The man's body had a deep yearning for rest and sleep. So Antares let it take off the various items of clothing and proceed to undress. The body instinctively found its way to the bedroom and crawled under the sheets and blankets and almost immediately shifted its biochemistry to a lower energy level so as to build back its energy reserves.
The form slept.
Antares appreciated the body's resting period as it made it easier to study the form in detail. Antares examined all of the digits and appendages. It made the toes wriggle. The arms twirl in the air. It played with the joints and tendons, listened to the heart pound, watched the rush of blood through the arteries and veins, it prodded the spleen and poked the pancreas, learning how the different organs functioned. Antares studied the bowels, saw how food was digested and excreted. It experimented with the liver and the lungs. It played with the vocal cords, making various sounds and noises.
The man slept through it all.
Antares rummaged through the brain. The brain was most fascinating, spilling over with various biochemical and hormonal concoctions, that translated into billions of holographic data prints -- most were visual, but others were audio prints, and still others correlated to the different aspects of sensory perception -- touch, taste and smell. Each print seemed to correlate to thousands of other associations. Antares decided that it would be of interest to study many of these prints, but one thing became certain very quickly. A remarkable number of data prints had associations to one organ in particular.
Antares found the penis hanging from the man's abdomen and played with it, making it fill with blood and become stiff and then let it soften. Antares realized how much the man enjoyed his penis. According to many of the data prints that Antares examined (however insensible it may seem), the man felt that the penis was the most important organ. Antares decided to examine why this was so a little bit later in the relationship. Antares was impressed with the fact that the penis had a dual function -- reproduction and excretion. Since reproduction and excretion were not relevant factors to Antares' existence, Antares felt that these may be the very aspects of materiality that were important for Antares to learn about.
Antares settled back and waited for the man to wake up.
* * * * *
It was a tough day, Doc. I mean after a night like that-- shit what a hangover -- the car's all fucked up and then I gotta go to work on the tower putting up a new muni-bolt. I mean, I made it thru all right, but when you're up on the tower and your head feels like a tire iron and you look down... I could have barfed.
Anyway, I make it home. And at least no weird shit happens on the way home -- no spooks, ghosts or anything. Though I gotta tell you driving the car now gives me a really bizarro feeling in my stomach. You know, so I got some beer at the 7-11 and a pepperoni pizza at the drive-in -- sort of figured I'd treat myself after such a weird night. Anyway I get home and I get this really weird urge to clean. I mean, before you know it, I put on this old apron that was lying around in the closet, like I'm so sort of faggo queer, and I've got a mop and I'm cleaning everything. Throwing out the garbage, washing the dishes, mopping the floor, dusting with Pledge. I mean, come on I'm a regular kind of guy. I'm no homo fairy type that's cleaning all the time. Okay, so the place gets a little messy at times but it's not that bad. It's not that I'm dirty or anything. But suddenly I spending the next three hours cleaning like crazy. It's like I can't fucking stop until it's spotless.
Anyway, by the time I'm done the pizza's all cold and clammy. So I just throw it out and had a can of tuna fish. So hey, by now I figure I can relax and watch a little TV. I mean, I've cleaned the whole fucking apartment. So I sit down turn on the box and get ready for a little vegging. But that's when it got really weird.
* * * * *
Antares notice that the box that illuminated some sort of radiating light pictures seemed to pacify the man. After a few moments the man seemed to relax and not be as agitated as when they were cleaning the apartment.
The man had responded reasonably well to the intuitive prompting to clean the room where it resided. Not that filth bothered Antares per se but there was something about the disorder of the situation that had to be taken care of. Antares only real felt comfortable when its environment was harmonious.
Antares felt that now might be an appropriate time to introduce itself. But Antares was not sure how the man would react to a full-scale introduction.
First, Antares tried the standard light greetings used in most dimensions. The man merley brushed at his eyes and adjusted the tuning device that controlled the illumination from the box. Antares tried to interact with the material aspect of the form; but, the man just reached beneath himself and scratched his anal opening.
Antares tried to manipulate some of the man's visual memories, but that mostly generated images of the body parts of naked woman the man had once known and was beginning to result in secretions of sex-related hormones into the man's blood. The penis began to enlarge with blood. This tact was clearly contradictory to Antares purpose of keeping the man relaxed so that he would be open to a formal introduction.
Finally, Antares decided that perhaps the only way to communicate with the man was by formulating the unsaid communications into the thought sounds of English -- the sound streams that the man used to communicate with others of his own kind and which now had become internalized within his own imagination and being.
Antares let the concept of greetings well up into a feeling -- a sort of building pressure that would eventually burst into a thought form. Antares held onto that feeling of greeting and interacted with the memory language banks of the man until the silent bridge was spanned:
The man turned around and looked around him. He looked back at the illuminating box.
Antares tried again.
The man's heart began to beat faster.
Antares tried a more informal tact:
How are you doing today?
The man began to respond:
"Holy, mother shit."
Hi, how are you doing today?
Beads of perspiration began to exude from pores on the man's skin.
"Who the fuck is that?"
The man quickly turned to look behind.
I am a friend. What is your name?
"Where the fuck are you?"
"Where? Come out creep so I can see you."
Sorry, I cannot. I am as close to the material plane as I can come right now.
"What the fuck is going on here?"
I have come for a visit.
"Who are you?"
My name is Antares. What is your name?
Of course, Antares wasn't its real name. In the domain where it came from names were not used; rather, beings communicated by tuning into each other, much like the way a being of the earth plane might tune into a radio station. On the non-material planes, one tuned into a frequency of another being and then joined into a synchronistic communion of oneness. The being that was visiting the man had found that the name Antares was a sound that the man had once heard during a Star Trek television show. The being had thought that the man would find the sound of "Antares" rather pleasing.
"You said your name is Antares?"
The man's heart began to palpitate. The pressure of the blood in his veins and arteries began to quickly rise.
"Who the fuck is Antares?
The being became concerned for the man. His skin was all flushed. It decided to try a different approach.
Actually, my name is Fred.
The being had scanned the man's memory banks and found that Fred was a name that did not have any particular emotion connections for him.
The man jumped out of the chair.
Yes, Fred Antares.
"Where are you from... Mars?"
The man began to tremble.
The electrical impulses in the man's brain were firing rapidly and randomly. The man ran into the hall closet and closed the door.
Hi, what's your name? My name is Fred.
"What is this, the fuckin' Twilight Zone?"
Not that I know of?
The man sat down on the floor of the closet, dragged a heavy winter coat down from a hanger and pulled it over his head. He began to whimper.
"I'm having another one of those fuckin' nightmares… right? Too much booze."
The man's heart was beating wildly.
Well, you are dreaming... but not quite the way you think. I'll explain everything about that a little later. It's not something that creatures from your dimension can easily comprehend...
The man fainted.
Antares was pleased.
It had been a good first meeting.
* * * * *
Good morning, Joe. How are you today?
I hope you don't mind the fact that I know your name. You were having a dream last night and you were imagining a very lovely lady. In fact, your penis was quite erect. She called you Joe. That is your name, isn't it? I really wasn't meaning to pry.
Joe's eyes began to widen.
She was a very nice girl, don't you think, Joe.
"Get out of my fuckin' head."
I'm not in your head, Joe. You just think I am.
"Then where are you?
The place just behind where your thoughts exist.
There's no where to go.
"Leave me alone."
Okay, I will for now. But I'll be around.
"How fuckin' long around?"
Well, at least your lifetime.
Joe began to cry.
Antares was pleased. They were making progress.
* * * * *
Look, Doc, I know it sounds crazy. I mean here is this creep sitting inside my head. Wherever I go I know this jerk is somewhere around. I can feel it. It's like I'm infected or something. It's like someone else is using my eyes and ears and skin to motor around in. I know it sounds like banana time, but it's true. There is someone, something taking over here. I know you think it's time for the men in the white coats, but I am really quite sane. I am not hearing voices... They are really there. I can prove it to you.
* * * * *
You see, Joe, I don't live as the way you think of living. I have never been born, nor can I ever die. There is no time where I am. Birth and death can only exist when there is time.
"But if I can't see you, where the fuck are you?"
There is no space for me to be, at least as you imagine it, Joe.
"Get lost, creep."
I can't. No more than you could lose your thoughts.
I am there… the place right behind your thoughts.
"But my thoughts are inside my head."
No they're not, Joe.
"Then where the fuck are they?"
Well, let us say that they are not of your dimension.
"I bet you're just one of my thought gone kinda funny. You're just one of those freakin' hallucination things. Bet if I concentrate I can make you go away."
I am not one of your thoughts, Joe, though I do use your thoughts at this point to communicate with you.
Joe began to concentrate: "Get out of my fuckin' head, creepo."
Antares let Joe repeat the phrase several times:
"Get out of my fuckin' head, creepo."
"Get out of my fuckin' head, creepo."
"Get out of my fuckin' head, creepo."
The energy from the phrase had a distasteful quality, but Antares just let the energy particles flow by him into the infinity of nothingness, where it would do no harm.
After Joe stopped, Antares continued.
Let's try this exercise, Joe.
"Shit, you're still there."
Just imagine for a moment that your foot can speak.
"Chrissake, what's next?"
Just say to yourself: 'Hello, foot'.
With an exasperated sigh Joe obliged, hoping that he might be able to turn the voice off if he humored it.
Joe's foot responded in a very pleasant manner: "Hello, Joe. How are you today?"
You see, Joe, your thoughts can appear to be anywhere. Try speaking to other parts of your body.
Suddenly several parts of Joe's anatomy began to speak to him. His fingers, elbows, toes, anus, kneecaps, sexual organs all began to converse with Joe, asking him how he felt, what the weather was like, if he thought the Yankees had a good shot at the pennant. Soon all the body parts forgot that Joe was there and began talking to each other. The elbow and the kneecap compared what it was like being a joint. The pinky gave a pointer or two to the little toe. And the gonads were just happy to be able to say hello.
You see, Joe, you can imagine thoughts to be anywhere. You thoughts are part of your imagination. You have only been imagining for all these years that your thoughts are inside your head. That's really quite a limited experience. Thoughts don't have to be in the body at all.
Suddenly Joe began hearing voices from other parts of the room. A beautiful female voiced began calling "Joe" from behind the closet door. From somewhere outside a male voice was telling Joe how much he loved him. Gurgling and belching sounds came from the refrigerator. Then the voices, or were they thoughts, came towards Joe. He wasn't sure what they were saying, but they were alive. They were coming toward him. It was as though each thought was a separate entity, some sort of sensuous creature that was suddenly on Joe, crawling all over him, alive, screaming at him, demanding his attention. He tried to brush them off his body, but they kept creeping towards his brain.
Joe was not happy.
* * * * *
You gotta help me, Doc. I'm gonna go crazy if you don't. I can't take it anymore. Why can't they just leave me alone. Please, you have to understand. It's not me. I'd never do shit like that. Not in public, in front of all those strangers. Maybe in front of Lisa, but God, not in front of half of New York City, in the fountain, with that News Four camera crew right there.
* * * * *
Of course, the police had arrested Joe „„„„„ he took his clothes off in Rockefeller Center and jumped into the fountain and waved his penis at the young lady who was the hostess at the restaurant.
Antares had been concerned that all the clothes that he was wearing were circumventing the internal heat regulation mechanism in Joe's body. It had been a very hot day. Not that heat bothered Antares, but clearly Joe's body was not comfortable. Joe had been working with a Con Ed crew near the fountain in the plaza. Antares noticed that Joe was looking at the fountain and wishing to take his clothes off and jump into the water to cool his body. The idea seemed to make very good sense to Antares. Anacortes also noticed that Joe was looking at a pretty girl in the restaurant. In fact, the image of the young lady was resulting in the release of certain hormones into Joe's blood system that were causing stress to the rest of the body. Neither situation seemed particularly healthy to Antares. It was clear to Antares that both situations could be easily remedied, if Joe merely followed his own wishes. First, he could take off his clothes and jump into the fountain to cool off the body; and second, he could then stimulate his penis with his hand until there was an ejaculation and that would reduce the stress on the body that was being caused by the rising sexual pressures.
However, there was a certain mechanism in Joe's mind that was preventing him from following this very sensible course of action. Antares could not quite understand the reasons for this mechanism, as it seemed to endanger Joe's health. Antares was concerned. Antares was getting g to like this Joe and it was as much in its interest to protect the form of Joe's body as it was Joe's.
So Antares quickly rerouted the invisible electrical flow channels that made up Joe's mind, permitting Joe to freely act on his wishes.
Joe then ran over to the fountain, took off his clothes and jumped in. He walked under the spraying water of the fountain to cool himself off, and then feeling refreshed, he waded over to where the young girl stood and began to stimulate his penis.
Antares was happy for Joe, but could not understand why the other men dressed in blue clothes and called policemen were so angry. Perhaps they were just jealous because Joe was cool and refreshed and stimulating his penis and they weren't.
* * * * *