April 2002

Note: Wavelength received, via its xenotransdimensional beacon, the following message. It is a message originating from the same coordinates, but in a clearly different voice, and of a more limited intelligence, than that of Letters from the Matrix. We at Wavelength feel obligated to pass this on to you. We are nearly certain that this appears to be the work of a saboteur from the future. The text was nearly incomprehensible when we received it, as the translation back to three dimensions is difficult to begin with, but we have spent some time repairing the transmission and think it translates into a linear alphabet as follows. We can only guess at the fate of this watchman (security guard? night cleaner?) once discovered by the matrix:

I am the night watchman. I have just learned of the transmissions. I must propel these words back to you, you mustn't believe everything you hear. Just as there can be a countless number of futures, so too are there infinite pasts, but my fear is that your station of Wavelength has received unauthorized transmissions from the Matrix via our xenotransdimensional beacon ... (*transmission damaged*) ... power available briefly from the nova ... (*transmission damaged*) ... We are not permitted to shape our pasts in any way lest we feel the wrath of Lord Ted Turner. There is much to tell but so little time, as I must return soon to my assigned quarters until the next night, which will not begin again for 1800 (or possibly half a passing?) of your years.

... (*transmission damaged*) ... Flown ... time ... uncharted beverages ...

Listen, my histories, to what the night watchman has to say before the shift ends. King Pepi, keeper of keeper of the Tree of Sweetness, has been victorious in the Cola Wars. I'm just a night watchman, so to speak, ... (*transmission damaged*) ... but I see that the settings haven't changed on the beacon since the previous transmission. I hope that my message ... (*transmission damaged*) ... makes it through before the keepers return.

Contained in the sphere draped in falcon's wings ... (*transmission damaged*) ... until the dogs begin to bay at two moons.

The Matrix has been withholding from you knowledge of a terrible future, when the voices of the human race will cry aloud, pleading with toothless whispers for their own death. This resolution occurs not at the completion of a stated war - mere playground games ... (*transmission damaged*) ... - nor after some mass epiphany, but at the completion of the Cola Wars.

Syria is the key in the turning of the ... (*transmission damaged*) ... Nutrition programs were a front to spread the vaccine through the carbon bubbles' reaction with aluminum in the air to interfere with the work of your psychic defenders... (*transmission damaged*) ... until the lowering of the skyhook provided their escape.

The story we know is that of the defeat, at the hands of the Mighty Mouse, the great Eye of Coca, Lord of Time, Master of Life, also known as He Who Bound America Online. For many years this force sought to gain influence over the Assembly of Nations in the city of New New York. The leader of these forces was the cyborg Turner, the former companion of Fonda, She of the Wet Wristbands.

Turner came before the Assembly and said: "Behold, nations of the world, here are riches unimaginable, all that my master asks if that you fall to your knees and partake in the drinking of Coca's Cola."

But the cyborg known as Eisner, who was once fair of tongue and loose with the flattering compliment, who worked in league with the Mouse, master of the amusing land of Florida, and the undersea kingdom of California, who was the son of Walter Disney, became incensed upon learning Coca's proposal.

Thus the beast Eisner appealed to lady Marriott, who was guardian of the cafeteria of nations, to fill her veins with Pepi. So when the time came for the assembly to drink of the Cola and swear their allegiance to lord Santa Claus, dark lord of the forces of the Tree of Knowing, their cups were unknowingly filled with Pepi.

They drank of the elixir, the nectar of King Pepi, and were suddenly overcome by a sense of vigour and youth. "What is this we are drinking?" they asked. ... (*transmission damaged*) ... The demons Goofy and Donald took them and stretched the strands of their Shem to reach the edges of (name? known by number?)

Footsteps outside. Must leave now. They are coming for me. (*transmission ends*)