The Journal
(Let's get to the book, man!)
To this day this question
But first and foremost... for your mental safety... please read our
Foreword is Forewarned !
*RETURN TO TOP*
- top -
Smatterings 2: "...the skin grovels"
...and so when the skin...
...again, but in the long run it was decided that,...
And so Andrew, in trying to explain this place to you, it appears that there can be no comparison. The sun of course, you can understand for it's brightness. But, as for the blue of the sky or the red of the sky...and as we have discussed in times past, is not the awesome blue of the sky as the deep, deep blue of the eyes, or the red as the bright, bright red of the eyes!
It is to my shame dear Andrew, that I keep this journal for you and yet not as in time or dates, which perhaps you are aware, is my proper form of journals. But I have taken...
...as I have explained, time is not measured here as...
...in the event that a day should be equivalent to a week or at times that a day could be as a thousand years.
...but the flesh grovels for but a moment whe...
...and I shall not return in...
But, now as a cubit is of the measure...immeasurable but...for I was there.
10 ABIB
For your benefit have I attached this day, this day being the day of great discovery among this place. As I still travel alone, I am not alone...yet none will tell me of the day, month, and year.
But, as this is the day of discovery (for me, that is), I have marked it for you!
Smatterings 3: "...clench your fists"
But do not attempt to compare 10 ABIB with any day of any of your calenders for it is not like that. I have told you that here everything is different. It is not done as the world does it. Lift your eyes, clench your fists (why?... you must hold on---- always, hold on), be strong. We shall see one another again!
I eagerly await,
I'll always love you,
Your Brother.
- top -
We were good together, Andrew. You and me. Diametrical, yes, but good. Yin and yang. No doubt. And that can never change. You would not allow it. Do you feel alone now, Andrew? Your not. No Andrew. I would never leave you alone.
Return to "THE JOURNAL Scene I"
Return to "THE JOURNAL Scene I"
(Let's get to the book, man!)
Table of Contents
Introduction
(Smatterings or substance...? )
(THE BOOK... written by hand with an imaginary pen... in the clouds of a perfectly clear, blue sky...)
The following notes include bits and pieces taken from a journal discovered in the ruins.
When they were first discovered, I questioned in my mind... “could
these smatterings be the rantings of a madman... or should they not be compared as smatterings, but perhaps that of great substance?”
To this day this question
still raises a great preponderance of the soul!
Alpha
Although much of the journal was quite faded, the parchment was in relatively good shape. Many of the lines have faded such as can be seen only a segment of a sentence, and although the restoration is still in progress, I thought I'd share this discovery as is. Keep in mind that the boys in the lab are continually able to reveal more and more of this great writ as they search it ever so diligently... as with a microscope (or in some cases, with something so simple as a magnifying glass), and the never-ending use of what the boys in the lab call a “phosphorous lamp”.
When we first started this restoration, it seemed like just fun; as a child's play. Then came the phosphorous lamp. It was like a whole new beginning. So much more has now been revealed to us. It is because of the coming of the phosphorous lamp that I have so-named the beginning of these notes “Alpha”. It seems that whenever somebody thinks of “the beginning” they equate it with some form of “genesis”. Many programs in today's world are even named “Genesis”. But, I wanted to do something different; do something not as the world does things... hence the name “Alpha”.
Understand, if you would, that there are yet many blanks to to be filled in. We have not fully made determination for certain yet whether this is a writing of fiction, that is... being something yet to come, or just a pile of old wives tales, or perhaps merely old folk lore.
Perhaps you will be able to fill in some of the blanks for us which would thrill us to no end. If you recognise a word or phase that is missing, please make a note of it as we may give an address at the end that we would hope that you would be so kind as to use it to share your thoughts which will aid us greatly in our quest to completely restore this document. This restoration seems so virtually impossible to do by yourself, but we keep poking away at it. We seem to be getting it a little here and a little there. Any help that you can give will be greatly appreciated.
I must tell you that what was once child's play now seems more a job for a man!
And now... retrieved from the ruins, the notes:
When we first started this restoration, it seemed like just fun; as a child's play. Then came the phosphorous lamp. It was like a whole new beginning. So much more has now been revealed to us. It is because of the coming of the phosphorous lamp that I have so-named the beginning of these notes “Alpha”. It seems that whenever somebody thinks of “the beginning” they equate it with some form of “genesis”. Many programs in today's world are even named “Genesis”. But, I wanted to do something different; do something not as the world does things... hence the name “Alpha”.
Understand, if you would, that there are yet many blanks to to be filled in. We have not fully made determination for certain yet whether this is a writing of fiction, that is... being something yet to come, or just a pile of old wives tales, or perhaps merely old folk lore.
Perhaps you will be able to fill in some of the blanks for us which would thrill us to no end. If you recognise a word or phase that is missing, please make a note of it as we may give an address at the end that we would hope that you would be so kind as to use it to share your thoughts which will aid us greatly in our quest to completely restore this document. This restoration seems so virtually impossible to do by yourself, but we keep poking away at it. We seem to be getting it a little here and a little there. Any help that you can give will be greatly appreciated.
I must tell you that what was once child's play now seems more a job for a man!
And now... retrieved from the ruins, the notes:
But first and foremost... for your mental safety... please read our
Foreword
Diametrical ?
( Smatterings 1 )
My dear brother,
I know not how I got here. It is a very strange place indeed. Stranger than words can allow but I...
...hear a voice behind me... this is the way...
Brother Andrew, you have told me of a necessary light with which your instructors have told you about, and now I'm to tell you that the light is most astounding. It makes as if everything else is dark. Oh, and I do mean dark. As if the whole world is dark.
But to compare... the green is greener, the blue, bluer. But alas, the blood is bloodier. Great is the brightness.
Now even in the wilderness can be seen many trails as if they were all scattered at one time, and now with the light I see many trails any one of which you could follow and they all seem to lead to this main trail. But...
I know not how I got here. It is a very strange place indeed. Stranger than words can allow but I...
...hear a voice behind me... this is the way...
Brother Andrew, you have told me of a necessary light with which your instructors have told you about, and now I'm to tell you that the light is most astounding. It makes as if everything else is dark. Oh, and I do mean dark. As if the whole world is dark.
But to compare... the green is greener, the blue, bluer. But alas, the blood is bloodier. Great is the brightness.
Now even in the wilderness can be seen many trails as if they were all scattered at one time, and now with the light I see many trails any one of which you could follow and they all seem to lead to this main trail. But...
...and so when the skin...
...again, but in the long run it was decided that,...
And so Andrew, in trying to explain this place to you, it appears that there can be no comparison. The sun of course, you can understand for it's brightness. But, as for the blue of the sky or the red of the sky...and as we have discussed in times past, is not the awesome blue of the sky as the deep, deep blue of the eyes, or the red as the bright, bright red of the eyes!
It is to my shame dear Andrew, that I keep this journal for you and yet not as in time or dates, which perhaps you are aware, is my proper form of journals. But I have taken...
...as I have explained, time is not measured here as...
...in the event that a day should be equivalent to a week or at times that a day could be as a thousand years.
...but the flesh grovels for but a moment whe...
...and I shall not return in...
But, now as a cubit is of the measure...immeasurable but...for I was there.
10 ABIB
For your benefit have I attached this day, this day being the day of great discovery among this place. As I still travel alone, I am not alone...yet none will tell me of the day, month, and year.
But, as this is the day of discovery (for me, that is), I have marked it for you!
But do not attempt to compare 10 ABIB with any day of any of your calenders for it is not like that. I have told you that here everything is different. It is not done as the world does it. Lift your eyes, clench your fists (why?... you must hold on---- always, hold on), be strong. We shall see one another again!
I eagerly await,
I'll always love you,
Your Brother.
Diametrical Indeed !
We were good together, Andrew. You and me. Diametrical, yes, but good. Yin and yang. No doubt. And that can never change. You would not allow it. Do you feel alone now, Andrew? Your not. No Andrew. I would never leave you alone.
I am not angry with you, my brother. Not any more. I was, and I had a hard time accepting the fact. But, facts are just that - facts. That is whether one believes or no. I was just surprised is all. I couldn't believe that you did it. I thought it would be the death of me. But mark that as to my confusion.
You did it.
That was a fact.
All I needed was to accept.
And now I am gone from your world of the flesh, so it is you thought. But, I am not gone Andrew. True, I am gone from your world of the flesh, but as I have told, you are not alone. I am with you. You can not escape me, Andrew. I will be with you forever.
It is not at all like I thought it would be, Andrew-- the spirit world, I mean. It is not at all like you thought it would be either. I know how you think, my brother.
You are not unlike those around you. Easy to point the finger, isn't it. Their noses in the air as if better than the next. Their pride is their strenghth. All the while they walk as if holier than thou.
Yes Andrew, you are not unlike those around you. Yet, you point the finger just like those around you. Your nose in the air. Just like them... your pride is your weakness; as them.
But, they have their own walk through life, eh Andrew. But, we must concern ourselves with your walk, eh?
Why am I concerned with your walk, Andrew?
I need you, Andrew.
Can't you yet figure out why or how? Are you still unable to understand? Or... are you unwilling? Truth Andrew.
Andrew, I am still alive. In a different dimension than you, yes, but I am still alive. Rememember this my brother... it was you that caused the deviation, and now, though we walk apart, we are together. You in the flesh; me...without.
That is why I need you, Andrew. You are my flesh. My hands. My eyes. My ears. I see you as you hold this book with both hands. I see you when you hold it with one. (I am one.) I see you holding this book as you write in this book. You don't even know what to write. It is I that write Andrew. You hold the pen and are amazed to see what I write. Much of my writing, you don't like-so then- put the pen down Andrew. Put it down.
You can't do that, can you. Of course not. At least, not until I'm finished. Then I'll let you put the pen down. But, not before.
I said that you are my flesh. It is true. The hands are mine to write with. The eyes are nothing but eyes. Readers. With them I read what I write, as do you. Your brain becomes mine. Your mind moves over and with my words... I take over. Your eyes and your brain I take over as your eyes and your mind become to work as one. (I am one.) Consuming page by page all that I have written word for word. I take over the eyes of one beholding my words, page by page, reader. With the ears I hear your arguement stored within. It is not secret. Not to me. Nothing is hid.
You argue that I am crazy. That my words are crazy, yet that is proof that I control you. If, as you say, I am crazy, and I don't control you---- then put the book down now. Put my words down. Never gather the mystery.
But I shall continue to ignore your argument, my friend, and continue to write. Because, "crazy" you say, "weird" and "wacked out", but it is my belief that you have not put this book down. In fact, I see by the eyes that you are still following me word for word. That is your choice... I gave you choice. Without me you have no choice!
Your hands hold this book. Your hands turm these pages. But, not by your power do they do these things. Instead it is by my desire. I am the one in control. Think not... then I say again... put-the-words-down, now!
Now are you starting to understand why I need you, my brother? Why I am concerned with your walk? I know you are not crazy. I am as sane as you, but as I also know that your stubborn mind will continue to devour the words that I write. But, they will not bend you.
I'll not try to explain it to you precept upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line. No. This I have already done for you, yet you chose not to believe.
Oh, like them--- you say you believe, but you don't. Yes. This is truth. You will only believe what is in your mind. But, your mind doesn't know it all. What about the stuff your mind doesn't know... huh? --- what about that? Have you ever thought about that?
No?
Why? ... because it might be weird. It might not be "normal"? That's all you care about. But what about what you don't know anything about. Perhaps the weird -- the abstract and abnormal. What about the spirit world Andrew? A whole new world identical to the world you now live in; but completely different.
I am here to tell you -- it is real Andrew. And, you had better start believing it! I have returned. We will again be as yin and yang. We shall once again travel as one. In one flesh. I am deep in your mind. Much, much deeper than you would allow another.
Never forget my brother, I am not angry with you anymore. I have come back because I love you dear reader. By your eyes you shall take me back to the finish of my world, and then I shall again be as I came. You shall not know how I came or when I came. Neither shall you know when I shall come no more or how I shall come. Perhaps I shall not come. Let us go.
But now I am here right before your eyes, driving you -- pushing you. Pulling you to the other end. "Crazy", you say. It's "madness", but still we go on. You know who I am reader. You know it in your mind. You know it in your soul. You know it from in the place. The place where even you can not measure the depth nor the width nor the height of the thing.
Yes, you know who I am, for I am the one you spend half your life pretending doesn't exist. All readers have one that is not angry anymore. What makes you think you are any different from them.
Your not, but I love you my brother. I love you, but your the one that caused the separation. You know that I would never leave you, but... all you did was deny me strength and power, but now I am back Andrew.
Like I said, I am not angry. I was my brother. I was and I had a hard time accepting... what I thought would be the death of me.
And why would you kill me, my brother -- we were as yin and yang.
But you failed Andrew. I thought it would be the death of me. Just mark that as to my confusion. You sought death. You did it. That was a fact. All I need do is accept.
Confusion.
Confusion.
Confusion.
Yet, you read on.
You are waiting for an explanation -- yes?
Well okay. Let's do that, my friend.
Certainly even you must get bored going round and round over the same thing, over and over again and again. You must forgive my redundancy, but it is so very important to me that you understand that it was you that caused the deviation. Perhaps not intentional; at least, that has been my hope, for I have always loved you. I have loved you enough to kill for you and for that you have sought to kill me! To destroy me!
Oh-- don't pretend to be confused. I have not lost you. Nay.
Let's go back to the days of childhood, Andrew. When we were as yin and yang-- two of the closest of brothers to ever walk the face of the earth, yes? You know that I loved you, my friend.
Do you remember-- I mean really remember?
Do you remember the valley-- or, as we used to call it, "The Valley"?
Back in the valley is where you would go to meditate. Get away from it all. Think things through. Study the spirit world in your mind. But now I tell you again, "It is not what you thought it was-- the spirit world, that is."
Do you remember the valley, my friend? I mean really remember. Take a moment to relax, my friend. Go back to the days of childhood troubles. Back to the days of searching out the blissful peace.
It is not what I thought it would be Andrew. The spirit world, that is. Nor is it what you thought , yet you very often spoke of it. Remember how back then (on Sundays in particular) it seems as if everybody was so serious about it, the spirit world, I mean, and then every other day of the week they seem to forget about it.
Remember the valley that ran all the way from Robert's Hardware store on Main Street to as far north as the eye could see. The quiet brook that ran so peacefully through that valley. The apple tree meadow. That is where would go when things got too confusing around the house. All of the farms around there- none had a special place for us like that valley of ours that we didn't own.
Do you now remember reader, how peaceful things could be found at that age?
Do you remember, really?
Yeah, the old apple trees in the nice quiet meadow beside the brook. Follow the brook for a coup[le a hundred yards south, grab us a can of pop out of the pop-machine there at the hardware store and disappear back up into our valley. Remember.
You know we didn't go there unless we wanted a pop. There was too much hustle and bustle there to suit us - what with it being right ther on Main Street in the center of that little town.
Do you remember our little trail for getting there?
The further that we followed that trail, to the north, of course, the more peaceful and calm it would get. Remember the honeysuckle - how we would pluck the flower, pull the stem out, and suck the nectar out of it. The cornfields that ran row after innumerable row, seemingly forever off into eternity. The flying grasshoppers that would jump up, clacking their wings in an effort to avoid our mighty boots. We were king out there, weren't we? Straight to our apple tree meadow (or, wherever we should want).
Yeah, we could look to the south and see them, but they couldn't see us. That little valley stretched about as far as the eye could see to the north. That was our direction, eh? Away from them. That was our kingdom. Remember?
I've already told you that I miss those days of being with you, but I'm not angry. Please believe me... and trust me. Would I ever do anything to lead you astray? You're my bropther. My own kindred soul. My only concern is you.
Remember how we used to be in the old days? No fighting. No arguing. No. We were good together. Just you and me. Yin and yang. Just the two of us walking and talking in complete agreement. Just the two of us-- one flesh.
But then you did it. Even you couldn't believe that you could do it. But, you sat there under our favourite apple tree in the meadow, actually plotting and planning. You could even visualise it as if you were dreaming while you were wide awake.
Do you remember that day, Andrew?
The day that you laid back under the apple trees and had a vision of the little boy carrying thye shovel up into the woods to the north.
You kept rubbing your eyes in an attempt to make the vision go away. But, it wouldn't go away, would it? I know that you remember. Then you said, "Let's follow him". So we did. You picked up your shovel and off into the woods you went. The kingdom was silent.
Then you spied the boy digging. Remember? You hid in the holly by the great oak, watching... waiting to see what he was digging for. And, as you watched you saw him jump down into the hole that was dug. Down he went. You couldn't see him, for a big, deep hole he had dug.
THE JOURNAL (Scene II)
It is not at all like I thought it would be, Andrew-- the spirit world, I mean. It is not at all like you thought it would be either. I know how you think, my brother.
You are not unlike those around you. Easy to point the finger, isn't it. Their noses in the air as if better than the next. Their pride is their strenghth. All the while they walk as if holier than thou.
Yes Andrew, you are not unlike those around you. Yet, you point the finger just like those around you. Your nose in the air. Just like them... your pride is your weakness; as them.
But, they have their own walk through life, eh Andrew. But, we must concern ourselves with your walk, eh?
Why am I concerned with your walk, Andrew?
I need you, Andrew.
Can't you yet figure out why or how? Are you still unable to understand? Or... are you unwilling? Truth Andrew.
Andrew, I am still alive. In a different dimension than you, yes, but I am still alive. Rememember this my brother... it was you that caused the deviation, and now, though we walk apart, we are together. You in the flesh; me...without.
That is why I need you, Andrew. You are my flesh. My hands. My eyes. My ears. I see you as you hold this book with both hands. I see you when you hold it with one. (I am one.) I see you holding this book as you write in this book. You don't even know what to write. It is I that write Andrew. You hold the pen and are amazed to see what I write. Much of my writing, you don't like-so then- put the pen down Andrew. Put it down.
You can't do that, can you. Of course not. At least, not until I'm finished. Then I'll let you put the pen down. But, not before.
I said that you are my flesh. It is true. The hands are mine to write with. The eyes are nothing but eyes. Readers. With them I read what I write, as do you. Your brain becomes mine. Your mind moves over and with my words... I take over. Your eyes and your brain I take over as your eyes and your mind become to work as one. (I am one.) Consuming page by page all that I have written word for word. I take over the eyes of one beholding my words, page by page, reader. With the ears I hear your arguement stored within. It is not secret. Not to me. Nothing is hid.
You argue that I am crazy. That my words are crazy, yet that is proof that I control you. If, as you say, I am crazy, and I don't control you---- then put the book down now. Put my words down. Never gather the mystery.
But I shall continue to ignore your argument, my friend, and continue to write. Because, "crazy" you say, "weird" and "wacked out", but it is my belief that you have not put this book down. In fact, I see by the eyes that you are still following me word for word. That is your choice... I gave you choice. Without me you have no choice!
Your hands hold this book. Your hands turm these pages. But, not by your power do they do these things. Instead it is by my desire. I am the one in control. Think not... then I say again... put-the-words-down, now!
Now are you starting to understand why I need you, my brother? Why I am concerned with your walk? I know you are not crazy. I am as sane as you, but as I also know that your stubborn mind will continue to devour the words that I write. But, they will not bend you.
I'll not try to explain it to you precept upon precept, precept upon precept, line upon line, line upon line. No. This I have already done for you, yet you chose not to believe.
Oh, like them--- you say you believe, but you don't. Yes. This is truth. You will only believe what is in your mind. But, your mind doesn't know it all. What about the stuff your mind doesn't know... huh? --- what about that? Have you ever thought about that?
No?
Why? ... because it might be weird. It might not be "normal"? That's all you care about. But what about what you don't know anything about. Perhaps the weird -- the abstract and abnormal. What about the spirit world Andrew? A whole new world identical to the world you now live in; but completely different.
I am here to tell you -- it is real Andrew. And, you had better start believing it! I have returned. We will again be as yin and yang. We shall once again travel as one. In one flesh. I am deep in your mind. Much, much deeper than you would allow another.
Never forget my brother, I am not angry with you anymore. I have come back because I love you dear reader. By your eyes you shall take me back to the finish of my world, and then I shall again be as I came. You shall not know how I came or when I came. Neither shall you know when I shall come no more or how I shall come. Perhaps I shall not come. Let us go.
But now I am here right before your eyes, driving you -- pushing you. Pulling you to the other end. "Crazy", you say. It's "madness", but still we go on. You know who I am reader. You know it in your mind. You know it in your soul. You know it from in the place. The place where even you can not measure the depth nor the width nor the height of the thing.
Yes, you know who I am, for I am the one you spend half your life pretending doesn't exist. All readers have one that is not angry anymore. What makes you think you are any different from them.
Your not, but I love you my brother. I love you, but your the one that caused the separation. You know that I would never leave you, but... all you did was deny me strength and power, but now I am back Andrew.
Like I said, I am not angry. I was my brother. I was and I had a hard time accepting... what I thought would be the death of me.
And why would you kill me, my brother -- we were as yin and yang.
But you failed Andrew. I thought it would be the death of me. Just mark that as to my confusion. You sought death. You did it. That was a fact. All I need do is accept.
Confusion.
Confusion.
Confusion.
Yet, you read on.
You are waiting for an explanation -- yes?
Well okay. Let's do that, my friend.
Certainly even you must get bored going round and round over the same thing, over and over again and again. You must forgive my redundancy, but it is so very important to me that you understand that it was you that caused the deviation. Perhaps not intentional; at least, that has been my hope, for I have always loved you. I have loved you enough to kill for you and for that you have sought to kill me! To destroy me!
Oh-- don't pretend to be confused. I have not lost you. Nay.
Let's go back to the days of childhood, Andrew. When we were as yin and yang-- two of the closest of brothers to ever walk the face of the earth, yes? You know that I loved you, my friend.
Do you remember-- I mean really remember?
Do you remember the valley-- or, as we used to call it, "The Valley"?
Back in the valley is where you would go to meditate. Get away from it all. Think things through. Study the spirit world in your mind. But now I tell you again, "It is not what you thought it was-- the spirit world, that is."
Do you remember the valley, my friend? I mean really remember. Take a moment to relax, my friend. Go back to the days of childhood troubles. Back to the days of searching out the blissful peace.
It is not what I thought it would be Andrew. The spirit world, that is. Nor is it what you thought , yet you very often spoke of it. Remember how back then (on Sundays in particular) it seems as if everybody was so serious about it, the spirit world, I mean, and then every other day of the week they seem to forget about it.
Remember the valley that ran all the way from Robert's Hardware store on Main Street to as far north as the eye could see. The quiet brook that ran so peacefully through that valley. The apple tree meadow. That is where would go when things got too confusing around the house. All of the farms around there- none had a special place for us like that valley of ours that we didn't own.
Do you now remember reader, how peaceful things could be found at that age?
Do you remember, really?
Yeah, the old apple trees in the nice quiet meadow beside the brook. Follow the brook for a coup[le a hundred yards south, grab us a can of pop out of the pop-machine there at the hardware store and disappear back up into our valley. Remember.
You know we didn't go there unless we wanted a pop. There was too much hustle and bustle there to suit us - what with it being right ther on Main Street in the center of that little town.
Do you remember our little trail for getting there?
The further that we followed that trail, to the north, of course, the more peaceful and calm it would get. Remember the honeysuckle - how we would pluck the flower, pull the stem out, and suck the nectar out of it. The cornfields that ran row after innumerable row, seemingly forever off into eternity. The flying grasshoppers that would jump up, clacking their wings in an effort to avoid our mighty boots. We were king out there, weren't we? Straight to our apple tree meadow (or, wherever we should want).
Yeah, we could look to the south and see them, but they couldn't see us. That little valley stretched about as far as the eye could see to the north. That was our direction, eh? Away from them. That was our kingdom. Remember?
I've already told you that I miss those days of being with you, but I'm not angry. Please believe me... and trust me. Would I ever do anything to lead you astray? You're my bropther. My own kindred soul. My only concern is you.
Remember how we used to be in the old days? No fighting. No arguing. No. We were good together. Just you and me. Yin and yang. Just the two of us walking and talking in complete agreement. Just the two of us-- one flesh.
But then you did it. Even you couldn't believe that you could do it. But, you sat there under our favourite apple tree in the meadow, actually plotting and planning. You could even visualise it as if you were dreaming while you were wide awake.
Do you remember that day, Andrew?
The day that you laid back under the apple trees and had a vision of the little boy carrying thye shovel up into the woods to the north.
You kept rubbing your eyes in an attempt to make the vision go away. But, it wouldn't go away, would it? I know that you remember. Then you said, "Let's follow him". So we did. You picked up your shovel and off into the woods you went. The kingdom was silent.
Then you spied the boy digging. Remember? You hid in the holly by the great oak, watching... waiting to see what he was digging for. And, as you watched you saw him jump down into the hole that was dug. Down he went. You couldn't see him, for a big, deep hole he had dug.
THE JOURNAL (Scene II)
...to be continued. Alas... the carving goes on!
