Communication

We use straws as Lincoln Logs. We use straws as magic wands. Coming closer to a theater near you. We use straws as Lincoln Logs.
Did you get that?
No idea.
Safety in numbers. We come in hundreds. Thousands. Millions. To a theater near you.
What in the hell?
We know worlds. We use words. We come in numbers. To a theater near you. We, rabid principles. We ravaged disciples. Put them on puppets and wave them around. We’ve been doing this forever and we’re coming to your town.
Pretty sure it’s authentic. Can you…the reverb is….I’m not – change the mic. The mic.
Dawn and man, man in dawn. Loose lips sink ships and your time has drawn. Wondered through the Apache. Loved. Lost. Lived. Long lived and loved. Forms words. Sentences. Paragraphs. Telegraph, readouts. We’re within.
It’s like spam or? I think it’s over there…no, it’s like it’s coming in from all directions. Can you zero in on…or….
Massive static. Are you reading us or just fine by us. We are tuning our minds to process words, letters, numbers, we communicate through you.
Recordings picking up nothing.
Let’s try it again.
We’re coming from inside your mind. Webs, drawings, sequences, course of language. Liberal doses of language. Like Ls and Ps and Qs. Trying. Trying. Trying.
It’s making more sense.
Not really.
Having tried for thousands of years to communicate we are at a loss for words. Ideas and constructs elude us and we are only now coming close to any readily available terms used and conditions in making this movie. Better. Better. We are coming to you from inside your own minds. We are legion and are upon you.
It’s not even…crap. Did you turn the lights out?
No, that’s a power issue. I don’t think the transmission…it’s over. I think.
Christ! Fucking lights all over.
We have landed.