"So, what's the matter, Curtis?" asks Gene. "Nothing. Purvis.
Yeah Purvis. The Service. Damn snoops.
Why the hell do they come into the kitchen? Does Lum
send them in here? How come? "Settle down. Make me one
stack of hotcakes."  Asks Henson "No Loops?"

"Could be, Mister Prez. Never noticed," Gene says,
as he heads straight away to the kitchen,
where he senses some tension between Curtis and Henson -- 
almost too little to mention, but a sense of dissension,
and he hears Henson whisper "Quitcha bitchin'!"

"A cloud?" "Yeah, tell me Gene." "It's Dean, sir -- I mean Gene!
I don't know ... I see shapes. Maybe a sheep, or a face,
ice cream, or a tree. Sir, what do you see?"
"Well, it looks like to me, some kind of vehicle, maybe.
Made by microbes to get to some place."

He puts the phone in his pocket. "Tell me, Dean, can you grok it?
Does nothing appear like it is?
I'm just thinking aloud -- but when you see a cloud --
what do you see? And how'd you see it? You're allowed
to tell me the truth. Pretend that it's President biz."

Tim says "Mister Prez, that's just what Jade says.
Matter of fact, I was just about to text."
"OK, so it's 'cereal'." "Yup, and we thought it was 'serial'."
"Yeah, but it's so queer y'all." "This could be quite material ...
now we just need to know what comes next."

He's been thinking about Jade and that thing that she said,
about the spelling and "listen to this serial".
"Well dang me!" he cries. "It's right before my eyes!"
He phones the other guys: "Team, I've got a surprise --
it ain't 'serial' -- it's 'listen to this cereal'."

"I know what you mean, sir. By the way ... my name's Gene, sir."
"Oh dang me, you told me that, Gene.
Three, maybe four times. Trouble is, see, my mind's
kinda scattered at times, it's full of all kinds
of presidential kinda stuff. Sorry about that. Sorry Dean."

It's a day or two later. "No," Lum says to the waiter,
"thanks Dean, I'll have hotcakes instead.
Think I'll change my routine." Then he looks up at Gene
(who he always calls Dean). "A change you know, Dean,
is as good as a holiday, it's said."

Lum has heard rumblings of a few people grumbling
but he's more focused on the revelatory.
(No one could want some new epiphanies to come
more than I, except Lum, but until they do come
there are other aspects to our story.)

Back home in DC a man laughs: "Yeah, we'll see.
It depends what you think is 'normality'."
In the capital, you see, it's not all who agree
with Lum's project. Indeed, it must be said that some see
some kind of threat from this new informality.

They're printing stamps with Rev 2 in Nepal and Nauru,
and even minting a coin in Grenada.
From Khartoum to Kiev they're all quoting the rev --
it's been rumored they have in West Bank and Tel Aviv
'rev breaks' during lulls in the Intifada.

Kill the President

Part 18

Scene: Brisbane, Australia. "Oh, my beautiful Thalia,"
says Dad. "You'll be belle of the school formal.
Drive her carefully, Jess. What's that button on your chest?"
"A new rev from the Prez." "Hey, I like what it says:
'*We gotta live like society is normal'."

Hi and g'day, reader, y'all!

No new verse today because I've been busy as a one-armed paperhanger in a high wind, and busy plotting some future fun things, but I thought I should write a note. As you will know if you've been reading 'Kill the President', there are various clues and codes evolving within the poem. Collectively these are called 'bacterioids', and they comprise three different types of information: what we call revelations, clues and epiphanies. Details and how to play the game are at http://www.wilsonsalmanac.com/lumvitation.html.

A forum, called Kalliope, exists to give a space for people to discuss and hopefully work out what it is that the bacterioids are progressively revealing.

A little birdie has told me that I've been making it too hard -- I don't know if you agree with that view. I don't want it to be easy, of course, but I don't want to confuse you all up the wall!

Because under the game's rules I am not allowed into the Kalliope forum except by invitation, it's a bit hard for me to know in what ways people might be having trouble. I don't have any idea how you guys are doing, and would like to know, as this is a two-way process with greater potential if the energy flows both ways. Like you, I'm sure, I'm a great believer in human collaboration.

What I can do, however, is be open to feedback and I certainly want to do that. I invite you to stay in touch with each other in the forum, and also with me through the Secretary of Kalliope (SoK), whose name is nthmtnhoney. Your SoK is communicating extremely well with your humble tale-spinner and I'm sure that if there are any problems or questions, you can raise these in the forum and, if necessary, the SoK will keep me informed.

So far there are 179 verses, or stanzas I suppose they should be called, and I've been having a ball writing them. I have to be perfectly francis with you, though, and admit that it would be a lot easier (and thus better for the reader) with feedback, so please let SoK know ... how am I doing? Any probs? Need any help? Can we make it a better experience for you? Is the forum format working to allow people to discuss and even debate?

Remember, it's an interactive experience. It's also highly experimental to be writing this way, so like any experiment, the crazy scientist might need new ideas.

Lots more to come soon, so I hope you enjoy being an active clue-cracker and just general reader of KtP. I look forward to hearing from Kalliope, and you'll be hearing from me soon ... darn tootin' you will, dang me!

Abundance and gratitude,

Pip

The agents and president head back to the residence,
John and Cletus sticking close to the Prez.
Says Tim, "Guess we'd better get back to work." Heather
agrees and together they all notice the feathers.
"Oops! Almost forgot the headdress!" Irving says.

End of Part 17

"Dang gang," says the Prez, "gotta do President biz.
John, I forget this guy's name. Was it Oliver?"
"D'Oliveira." "Near enough. Team, it can be pretty tough
to remember this stuff. Well, see you soon, sure 'nough.
Better hurry, gotta see Oliver from Boliva."

"Mr President! You're here!" Agent Graham appears.
"Did you forget your appointment -- the Bolivian
Ambassador?" "Oh dang! I forgot about that thing."
"Didn't your phone ring?" "Huh? Oh, maybe I didn't bring
it from home." (1600 Pennsylvania Ave, Oblivion.)

"This shouldn't defeat us or beat us," repeats Cletus.
"I bet it's just flatus. I can smell it."
Tim laughs, "Great, then it's bacterial!" "Getting back to that word 'serial' ...
Lum are you sure it was 'serial'?" asks Jade, in a voice quite ethereal.
"I wonder some, as she thundered away, Lum ... did she spell it?"

"Not yet. Tell us that!" "Gang, I heard from my hat ..."
They hold their breath as he sips his capuccino.
"Not the feathers. The head. The buffalo head,
sometimes wear that instead. Other mornin' it said,
'Listen, young Lum. Some call me C13H16ClNO.'"

"What else did she say?!" "She said 'But I spell with a K
my other name. But that's all you need
for today. Goodbye Lum.' And I asked 'Will you come
again soon?' She said 'Some time, Lum, yes I'll come.
When I'm called.' -- And she's gone, like a drummin' stampede."

Cletus goes on: "See, son. See, what happens to Lum,
same thing happens to me, see, if I've ate one.
It's nothin', just onion. Just a bowl of Onion grunion.
Indigestion ain't fun, son. Ain't nothin' in Babe 'n' Bunyan --"
"Yes, but Cletus, this has beat us: 'CI581'."

"Hey Timmy, don't sweat it. You guys! Just ferget it.
Amanda used to get it. In Atlanta.
Amanda's my ex -- had some hex with Tex-Mex.
Didn't expect the effects. She ate onion: no sex.
I ain't perplexed. All due respects, Lum needs Tums. And Mylanta.

"Think about it. Perhaps ya will find it's dyspepsia."
Tiffany says, "Interesting suggestion. Indigestion.
Dad gets it real bad. My mom says that he's had
stomach trouble since she had me. It's really too sad."
"But does he get epiphanies?" asks Stephanie. "That's the question."

"Not exactly," says Tiffany. "Not exactly epiphanies.
Just gets him biffin' me, and tiffin' with my mother."
"Dang me! Hi Tiffany! Hey Carlos. Cletus. Stephanie.
Hey guys, that woman's given me a second dang epiphany!
At least, I think that I've just had another."

Tim says, "Lum, you're kidding me! Another epiphany?"
Says Lum, "Have you guys finished eating?"
"No. Pull up a chair," Jade says. Lum says, "Where?"
Carlos says, "Anywhere." Lum says, "OK. There.
Man, I love this cafeterial seating.

"Should eat here more often. The seats are so soft an' --"
"Excuse me," says Tim, a little nervous.
"Say what?" "Mister Prez," Tiffany diffidently says,
"You heard from that woman?" Lum says "How'd you know? Oh ... oh ... yes,
I just told you! Do they serve fries with their burgers?"

"You can fill your whole plate! And the salad is great,"
says Cletus. "Leastwise, I liked mine."
"Well that really sounds nice." "And a very good price."
"Great. Don't have to think twice! I'll be right back you guys."
So they wait while Lum stands in the line.

"Do you think it's historical?" asks Jade. "What?" "The oracle.
Or maybe it could be allegorical?"
Cletus says, "You mean gas?" (He seems nice, but no class.)
"That Amanda had gas. But a real piece of ass."
"No, Cletus!" laughs Jade. "Like ... metaphorical."

"Dang me! That woman on the checkout ain't human!"
laughs Lum. "She got biceps like Tyson!"
Still chuckling, he sits. "She didn't like me one bit
but I'll get over it. Anyways, who gives a shoot?
Hey, did I tell you about me and the bison?"

"Yeah, but Cletus, it's mysterious." "Hey, fellas, I hear yez,
but tain't mysterious." (He's a little imperious.)
"Now don't shake your haid! It's just like I sayed.
Ain't no mystery, I'm afraid." Then Carlos whispers to Jade
"Is he serious?" "I think he's delirious."

Tim smiles. "Oh, my, Cletus, I think you will eat us
out of White House and home. What I was saying
was, about the epiphany, it's eerie, and Tiffany
has her theories, and Stephanie --" Cletus says, "Hear me Tim, if'n he
listens up, he'll just find it dismayin'".

[Please note that Bloglet did not send the previous stanza (# 162). This happens from time to time with Bloglet subscriptions; unfortunately, neither I nor President Lumwedder have any control over it. I might not even notice and thus be able to inform you, so please don't rely 100% on Bloglet to be a perfect record of the narrative -- there might be clues missed. All the verses will be found at http://pipwilson.blogspot.com/ where there is also a sidebar link to the whole poem on my website. Thanks guys.]

It's rumored the Service hired Cletus Merle Purvis
to have a Lum-alike there in the snoops.
That notion has traction. He's no man of action --
food gives more satisfaction. Lumwedder's reaction
was good: "Say, a snoop who likes Loops!".

"Where they come from, I mean. The question, it seems,
isn't 'where?' but 'what?' and 'why?' -- that has me guessing.
I'm sure the team agrees that whatever Lum sees
and hears, they're mysteries. Cletus, got any ideas?"
Cletus does: "This is great Waldorf dressing!"