I, too, was kind of thinking the Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters would be more effective if she just made them drink it. And then you wouldn’t ruin a perfectly good towel. Because as everyone knows, if you’re going to survive out there, you’ve really got to know where your towel is.
Don’t take it too hard. Perhaps it’s just that – like Slartibartfast – you’re not terribly good at threats.
All the cats I’ve ever met don’t threaten at all. They are more into evil brooding and the occasional sneak attack in one’s sleep. Threats are basically warnings, and cats don’t give warnings.
Souls have experimentally measurable mass. Controlled astral projection requires decoupling the gravitational force that ordinarily helps bind the soul to the body. Doing it with an anti-gravity generator allows this separation to be temporary… at least, in theory.
The use of the antigravity unit has an alternative pair of explanations.
Either to elevate the platform further toward the heavens physically rather than spiritually, or to create a gravitational bubble to permit the astral projection to exceed the speed of light.
“Hear the loud alarum bells–
Brazen bells!
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now–now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!”
from the 3rd stanza of Edgar Allen Poe’s ‘The Bells’
(BTW, Phil Ochs put it to music)
In addition to Och’s arrangement, there’s a gorgeous choral version of the poem that my high school chorus used to perform at our Christmas concerts. I wish I could find a recording of it.
Speaking of different arrangements of things, there’s a blue grass version of ‘Stuck in the Middle With You’ by Dale Ann Bradley. It’s used in episode 16 of No Evil, ‘Welcome to Mictlan’.
I was thinking a trip to Lovetron too. I dread to think how that might amplify Tip’s mojo, though. Can you imagine a Mad lover – of fashion or otherwise?
Lovetron simply /must/ be the destination. I’m not sure how I’d take it otherwise. There he shall meet his younger self in a hip, fantastic environment, along with the most important figures of his life. Oh, and Tigerlily.
I really want to see the scene where a pair of meter tall[1] opossums manage to overcome and tie up Tip. I’m not making any threats, but this is the sort of thing that gets authors tied to beds by demented nurses.
{1] I think? They seem to vary substantially from strip to strip.
I thought Tip was supposed to be smarter than that. ‘Respecting beliefs’ is all very well, but beliefs which involve strapping me into a product of mad science I’m going to be sceptical about.
I’m not sure that any part of the universe is ready to have Tip astrally projected on, in or anywhere near it. But then again, given Tip’s mojo powers…
“There was a terrible, ghastly silence.
“There was a terrible, ghastly noise.
“There was a terrible, ghastly silence”
If you tell me that the fairy cake is a lie, I’m slapping you with my towel… wrapped around a pitcher of Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters!
Wouldn’t the pitcher be more dangerous applied internally? But this is a great quote from the master, very appropriate.
I, too, was kind of thinking the Pan Galactic Gargle Blasters would be more effective if she just made them drink it. And then you wouldn’t ruin a perfectly good towel. Because as everyone knows, if you’re going to survive out there, you’ve really got to know where your towel is.
{evil Cheshire cat grin} I felt it made a more effective threat that way. But yeah, you hoopy froods called me out, nyao.
Don’t take it too hard. Perhaps it’s just that – like Slartibartfast – you’re not terribly good at threats.
All the cats I’ve ever met don’t threaten at all. They are more into evil brooding and the occasional sneak attack in one’s sleep. Threats are basically warnings, and cats don’t give warnings.
…Welp!
suddenly I am VERY worried about the title of this chapter
Oh! Like the Dome of the Capitol Building!
Well, they are yelling in capital letters.
The dome of the Capitol Building is shaped like a rocket?
…and thus the psychologist embarked on his own psychic journey to the mind’s great beyond…
Wait, if that’s not a rocket, why does it need an anti-gravity device?
Friction reduction.
Souls have experimentally measurable mass. Controlled astral projection requires decoupling the gravitational force that ordinarily helps bind the soul to the body. Doing it with an anti-gravity generator allows this separation to be temporary… at least, in theory.
That argle bargle is so well crafted, I’m not sure if you’d take that as a compliment or insult.
Those borogoves are looking awful mimsy too.
The use of the antigravity unit has an alternative pair of explanations.
Either to elevate the platform further toward the heavens physically rather than spiritually, or to create a gravitational bubble to permit the astral projection to exceed the speed of light.
“Hear the loud alarum bells–
Brazen bells!
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now–now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!”
from the 3rd stanza of Edgar Allen Poe’s ‘The Bells’
(BTW, Phil Ochs put it to music)
In addition to Och’s arrangement, there’s a gorgeous choral version of the poem that my high school chorus used to perform at our Christmas concerts. I wish I could find a recording of it.
Pretty, creepy!
Your choir performed that at Christmas? Your choir director must have had a sick and twisted sense of humor. I like it!
Speaking of different arrangements of things, there’s a blue grass version of ‘Stuck in the Middle With You’ by Dale Ann Bradley. It’s used in episode 16 of No Evil, ‘Welcome to Mictlan’.
As did Sergei Rachmaninoff:
First thought: Next stop, Lovetron!
Second thought: Or… “Sure As You’re Born”? Is this where Tip discovers Ozma?
I was thinking a trip to Lovetron too. I dread to think how that might amplify Tip’s mojo, though. Can you imagine a Mad lover – of fashion or otherwise?
Tigerlily gives her love slaves a lot of slack in their leashes.
Lovetron simply /must/ be the destination. I’m not sure how I’d take it otherwise. There he shall meet his younger self in a hip, fantastic environment, along with the most important figures of his life. Oh, and Tigerlily.
You’re never gonna see no unicorn.
Wait, mind projector?
At least now we’ll know what mojo looks like.
I really want to see the scene where a pair of meter tall[1] opossums manage to overcome and tie up Tip. I’m not making any threats, but this is the sort of thing that gets authors tied to beds by demented nurses.
{1] I think? They seem to vary substantially from strip to strip.
I was really wondering how Tip managed to allow himself to end up strapped into that contraption.
There seems to be a large-ish gap in the plausibility if this scenario.
Such gaps seem generally associated with Tip’s Mojo triggering. Maybe one of them made a very effective BDSM pass at him?
I assume the opossums were just really polite about asking him to strap in, and he didn’t want to be rude to clients.
I figured he got in there and let them strap him in voluntarily—but maybe we should’a seen it happen between yesterday’s strip and today’s.
Yeah, I read “I respect your beliefs but..” as “Up to now I have been going along with this”.
I thought Tip was supposed to be smarter than that. ‘Respecting beliefs’ is all very well, but beliefs which involve strapping me into a product of mad science I’m going to be sceptical about.
Uh-oh.
I think this is more of a Scooby Doo “Ruh Roh!” moment.
foom
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEE! THEIR LITTLE POSSUM HANDS ON THE LITTLE LEVERS! SO ADORABLE! <3
they would probably object to that
. . . were Tip’s last words.
He still has time to slip in “where’s my conditioner!”
There isn’t any, rememeber?
I’m not sure that any part of the universe is ready to have Tip astrally projected on, in or anywhere near it. But then again, given Tip’s mojo powers…