Sites Unseen August 2005 Preview from the West Coast Midnight Run magazine

SITES UNSEEN

DATELINE: 3576 AD, Azul Prime, Deltus Quadrant of the Solar Systeme.

The Other Day I drove down to the Old Man by the Sea and ended up smack
dab in the City of Helium Beach.
A vibrant fantasy land not
unlike the Promised Land,
Full of BCBG (Franco-Latin
Term for Bon Chic Beau
Gens circa 2000 AD) which
Loosely translates as the
Beautiful and Trendy Studs and
Babes, plastique vistas abound, from a recently rewooded walk on the waterfront to a Saphire Jewel serving up burgers and fries a la Johnny Rockets. Suffice it to say I dozed off in a reverie of revelry and the Antiquity Tunes of Hotel California and Ma Baker were whistling on my laptop.

The skies turned a haze of purple into the Azure and the Hyperion Plasma Plant stopped pumping its twin stacks full of Pink Candie. Feeling the sweet vibrations of the Peach Gurls, I headed to the local soda pop and guzzled down my first pep of diet. Being diabetic like 99% of the population on this planet, I soon had the urge to hit the can. I opened the door and saw several Buds commiserating in the Light, nylon jackets galore and brown sheets of cotton filling the brim. I decided I could not possibly see the Judge here. It was simply too trendy for his Honor. So I wolfed down a sweaty frank and decided I would have to wait until I made it in chains to Goethe Hall. I wondered out loud how can the BCBG of this great Porto Call by

the Sea allow their cans to be so packed without as much as an agent of El cleaning them twice or thrice a day on any given Sundae. After all, wasn’t this the Mecca of Meccas - from the Falls of Ontaries to the Heaps of Orion? I always found the Coral Del Mars and The Lagoon down the road much more worthy of a walk. Here I enjoyed the cinnamon fragrance the sweet people gave as they vied for a drink at the Fountain of Winkles.

I headed on the old run-through Fifty-Five North back to the Burroughs of Clay in the Green Valley of Exupery. Before I made the jump to the Fifty-Five, I happened to steal a drive by a Teutonic HS Wing masquerading as an old Navy repository for classic and upscale steeds. It looked ready for a party. I drove by VU SC and it was not the Vanguard of Universally Sweet Children, but it was awfully close.

On the way back, with green wisps of TR-Oozone gas fizzing from nozzles along the Fifty-Seven, I made a right into a Goodwill Exchange and looked up some shaving media, only it was not Envye I saw, it was a cheîne-saw operating at the Speed of Mock 3. I grabbed a few, placed them in a weave basket made in the Solarus System, poked the Collectinator at the gate, which duly subtracted the credit from my thom, and then headed home to my Hold on the Hill.

The readers are reminded that although this Work is complete fiction, any resemblance to any people or places, real or imagined, is purely a deed from God, err...ahem..., a work of happenstance and sheer coincidence.