alien tongues

shitpost doodle dump, drawpile edition: part 3

(images under the cut: 10)

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okay but i was reading the codex for how translators work in mass effect and it says most species know how to speak some alien tongue for the sake of sounding more natural and accepting of other races so imagine the translators get disabled on the normandy while edi is updating them and garrus approaches shepard, and she responds “hey garrus” loudly and slowly in plain english- and he goes to open his mouth and out comes fucking spanish.

January 1st, 2017

Darkness covers the globe, a shadow stretching across the midday sky and shrouds every continent, ocean and state.

A single flying saucer descends from the enormous shadow, landing in the middle of central Tokyo, inciting panic and fascination from the populous. Similar ships land in cities all over the world soon after. The Armies of all nations have their weapons aimed at the mysterious invaders as they await further movement.

Suddenly, the ships light all at once, as they all project a single image. The image is quickly televised and broadcast throughout the entire world on every media platform.

On the grand hall of the mothership, an alien entity crawls center stage, its undefined shape confusing to the eyes of humans who stare at it with awe.

It speaks in an alien tongue, and its words get translated into over a thousand human languages.

“This last planetary cycle was a test. And you all failed.”

Pokemon Go Gothic
  • Your friends are all playing Pokemon Go. They seem insistent that you join them. After you decline, strangers start staring at you in the street. Each time you make eye contact, you hear voices talking about ‘candy’ and 'stardust’ and naming things in an alien tongue. You stop making eye contact.
  • Finally, you are privileged enough to download the game. You feel a bit of your soul slip away. You don’t know where it went. You get the feeling that you shouldn’t try to find out.
  • There is a rare Pokemon nearby. As you walk towards it, it rises to the top of the nearby list. It has been there for hours.
  • You walk by the side of a busy road. You don’t recognize the street names, but you’re sure you’ll find something familiar eventually. You keep walking.
  • Pokemon Go has taught you the importance of looking both ways when you cross the street. You look both ways even when you’re not crossing the street. You are constantly alert. Sometimes you see dark figures out of the corner of your eye. You tell yourself they’re not real. After the sixth one, you start to think you have it backwards. Maybe you’re the one who’s not real.
  • The shadow of a Lapras appears on your radar. There is no water until the ocean, hundreds of miles away. You look at the shadow again. It is definitely a Lapras. You walk towards the ocean.
  • Your feet are covered in blisters. Your knee sometimes bends the wrong way. Every labored footstep is agony. You bite your lip and keep walking. Each day, you get up and do it again.
  • Your battery is at 6%. It has always been at 6%. You do not remember a time when it was not at 6%.
  • You are playing Pokemon Go at night. You walk down a dark alley to reach a Pokestop and see four muscular thugs guarding a rusty metal door. You have to stand by the door to get the pokestop. They do not stop you. They fear you. They are right to fear you.

I remember the very, very first time that I smoked DMT. It was sort of a benchmark, you might say, and I remember that this friend of mine that always got there first visited me with this little glass pipe and this stuff which looked like orange mothballs. And since I was a graduate of Dr. Hofmann’s, I figured there were no surprises. So the only question I asked is, ‘How long does it last?’ and he said, 'About five minutes.’

So I did it and…[long pause, audience cheers] there was a something, like a flower, like a chrysanthemum in orange and yellow that was sort of spinning, spinning, and then it was like I was pushed from behind and I fell through the chrysanthemum into another place that didn’t seem like a state of mind, it seemed like another place. And what was going on in this place aside from the tastefully socketed  indirect lighting, and the crawling geometric hallucinations along the domed walls, what was happening was that there were a lot of ahh.. beings in there, what I call self-transforming machine elves. Sort of like jeweled basketballs all dribbling their way toward me. And if they’d had faces they would have been grinning, but they didn’t have faces. And they assured me that they loved me and they told me not to be amazed; not to give way to astonishment.

And so I watched them, even though I wondered if maybe I hadn’t really done it this time, and what they were doing was they were making objects come into existence by singing them into existence. Objects which looked like Fabergé eggs from Mars morphing themselves with Mandaean alphabetical structures. They looked like the concrescence of linguistic intentionality put through a kind of hyper-dimensional transform into three-dimensional space. And these little machines offered themselves to me. And I realized when I looked at them that if I could bring just one of these little trinkets back, nothing would ever be quite the same again. And I wondered, Where Am I? And What Is Going On?

It occurred to me that these must be holographic viral projections from an autonomous continuum that was somehow intersecting my own, and then I thought a more elegant explanation would be to take it at face value and realize that I had broken into an ecology of souls. And that somehow I was getting a peek over the other side.

Somehow I was finding out that thing that you cheerfully assume you can’t find out. But it felt like I was finding out. And it felt.. and then I can’t remember what it felt like because the little self-transforming tykes interrupted me and said, “Don’t think about it. Don’t think about who we are… Think about doing what we’re doing. Do it! Do it! DO IT NOW!!!”

And what they meant was use your voice to make an object. And as I understood, I felt a bubble kind of grow inside of me. And I watched these little elf tykes jumping in and out of my chest; they like to do that to reassure you. And they said, “Do it.” And I felt language rise up in me that was unhooked from english, and I began to speak…

– Terence McKenna, “Alien Dreamtime” a multimedia event recorded live. (27 February 1993)