And up 2 places to this week's number 5 it's …"COMMUNICATE WITH ALL SIMILAR LIFE TYPES, NO MATTER THEIR LOCATION, THEN IMAGINE BEING ABLE TO DO ALL THIS BUT CONCURRENTLY"… so here it is, the
Arrgh, switch it off quick. The
combination of radio1 with a high intensity propaganda beam interlaced
in the frequency is just rude. Even with the radio off and the power control
switch twitching on the back seat I can still hear the words in my head.
Over and over. 'Communicate, Communicate, Communicate.'
At least the clock's not working, that really would be too much. It's showing 23:18 and it's full on sunshine daylight out here. In fact it's a bit too daytime. The sky's not even blue, it's closer to oil on water, like an expensive chrome effect paint job. Not easy on the eyes, hard to get a sense of any perspective as it keeps shifting, phasing, multiple hues from every angle.
Need direction, need purpose, need to get off this motorway, need a conveniently placed road sign to tell me that everything's OK and that I've only got 53 miles before the next sour services.
"PANIC, YOU WILL BE COLLECTED
FOR TREATMENT "
That was fast, 50 odd miles covered in the space of 3 heartbeats. Another thankyou to my extraperceptual benefactors I guess. Here we are, "WELCOME TO FLATWICK AIRPORT..your gateway is hell" It's all pretty calm though. There's a steady progression of motors climbing the 60's slipway to departures but none of the usual angst of course. Not any more, not since sometime last week probably. The difference is even more pronounced here though. Stop the car, park up wherever you like, there's no-one to give you any grief, everyone's just getting on with getting to where they're getting to. No armed police, no check-in, no passports, no queues, no metal detectors, I'm straight through each of the departure halls and there's not even the standard international airport sense of gloom, doom and panic. Also no planes. Seems to go against the super efficiency of herding thousands of herdlings through the gates onto the apron and not have any mass transit device waiting to collect them. Once again all is not as it appears. The passportless punters seem quite happy to cross the tarmac and walk up what I can only describe as invisible stairs. This is either the greatest mime act ever or I'm not seeing the whole picture. There's nothing there, I can see all the way across the airfield, there's a vague disturbance in my field of vision but that could just be grubby specs. The passengers on invisible airlines don't notice at all. I can see them sitting down in rows, as if they really are squeezing into their economy accommodation. The last pair are in now, no sign of any crew, and they're off, moving together still bound to their rows and aisles, picking up speed as they rise and clear the terminal building. With no more than faint hint of a feathery waft they've accelerated beyond the confines of my visual acuity.
"DEVELOP THE NEW HARMONIOUS
COMMUNICATION ABILITIES "
And another thing what in the name of Gardeners Question Time are those GIANT GREEN ONIONS doing sprouting up at regular intervals without so much as a sign saying "Aliens at work, we appolgise for any inconvinence during your re-assimilation"