The Bailiff, the Hero and the 3rd Policeman
Once upon a time
there lived a princess in a far away land with high mountains upon which the king had built his palace. And here, below the palace and deep into the mountains the king had built a maze of tunnels designed to re-enact the origin of the universe in the shape of a bull called the Higgs Bison.
Now in a distant land a budding hero had heard of this experiment and fearing the danger — as prophesised by one of his father's astrologers — of a bison released into the world by which the prophesy maintained, the world would end on an imploding note, had taken out a restraining order against this distant king's men of astronomy as a science instead of a muse from an even more distant court. Now it came to pass that the bailiff and the hero set out to enforce the injunction accompanied by a policeman of the third order who had intermodal jurisdiction.
However, before they could reach the land of the high mountains, they had to pass through another tunnel under the sea between an island country and the continent upon which the land of the high mountains was located. And here they met with an impasse because the train that ferried passengers had gotten stuck in the tunnel.
they decided to take a ferry instead that made, because of high winds and a stormy sea, an impromptu stop at a little "private" island that was neither a country nor a full subsidiary of a country.
Because there may have been something in the air, and / or something (else) in the drinking water, a deep sleep fell over them, after which it became impossible to decipher what in their narrative constituted "fact" and what constituted "fiction," the resolution of which, at least one great literary critic whose name now escapes me suggested, was to coin an intermediary word that represented a mix of both types of meanings...
So please don't get irate with the narrator — if you can find him — if the story from here on in, bears a resemblance to this intermediary state called "faction."
When they woke up
from this deep sleep after many, many, many, many years they assumed, since the island was the same, except for the faces of the people whom they did not recognise, that all was well and good and that only one day had passed.
But when they reached the mainland in a special kind of floating boat they had never seen before, they were flabbergasted.
The earth was both and (n)either fully scorched (n)or flooded but something of an intermediate order that didn't permit the water from the flood to properly mix with the soil of the earth, generating a sort of mud that the poor could use to build their homes with but the rich were using for facials.
Since, there was no food or fresh water left in this world, the mud was also used for both in the same way they would make yogurt in the days of old — at least by the poor who lived on the land. The rich who lived on floating island-suburbs didn't seem to need food or water at all...
Now, the bailiff,
the hero and the third policeman asked around about this kingdom with the high mountains which nobody seemed to have heard of, at least nobody on the ground. Finally, they got a meeting with the Minister of Foreign Affairs on one of the floating islands where they were ready to pose their query in a form of the language used by lawyers, politicians and broadcasters of lawyering and politicking.
And here they heard one of the most extraordinary stories that anyone who would have been alive could have heard: about how the earth as they had known it had passed through a worm hole and onto the other side attached to the former side via a type of k-not that had come undone during the voyage (which began in the tunnels of the kingdom with the high mountains) spreading out the "world" as they k-new it into "sectors" separated not only by time and space but also by a third element called "folds."
All of this meant that it was no longer possible to travel across the surface of a globular earth by ship, plane or bus... (as there was no globular earth any more).
Travel between sectors now had to wait until an "unfolding" involving these sectors took place which was on a different time scale from a natural human life span to which the poor were still subject — but not the rich. These latter had now been genetically re-programmed into undying specimens so they were more than able to wait for the eons it took before the travel in question arose.
The bailiff, the hero
and the third policeman however enjoyed no such post-wormhole luxury, but nevertheless, as luck would have it they had arrived at that moment in history when an unfolding of sectors involving the land with the high mountains and the mainland and the private island and the island country was "scheduled" to take place.
However, as it was not known who was responsible for the prediction, we do not know now who was responsible (ostensibly) — since nothing can be known for sure (according to a man named Heisenberg) — for the mistake that sent our threesome, not to the Land of the High Mountains, but to another land that seemed pre-occupied by a policeman's ball.
Here, everyone had only one thing on their minds which involved only one thing that was ever to be done or take place, if indeed, it was ever to take place...
It was in this land, a
"land of the subjunctive mood" that our now three heroes came to rest involving themselves with the preparation of the elaborate costumes that were de rigeur for the policeman's ball. This raised many questions for the grammarians — a philosophical school that reflected on the abiding questions of the day. For example, they speculated given that the preparation for the ball was the only preoccupation of the people, if the ball actually ever occurred, would it not signal the end of history and or the civilization? Hence, for many of the Grammarian School, the ball (that would never be) served only as a litmus test that gave meaning to the "movement" of civilisation, so long as it never took place.
Others, however, argued that even though no empirical evidence was available, because the ball had yet to ever occur, even if it did take place, civilisation would still continue as people — after a short respite — would dedicate themselves to the task of preparing for another ball in the future, as long as, — and this is a "big" as long as — time could be divided in cyclical chunks small enough to be grasped by memory. (A theory that become known as the Myth of Eternal Return because it had yet to be tested.)
A rival school, the Deontologists,
argued that a post-ballic cyclical world would not be the same at all. Arguing from another myth originating in, or by, a man called Sisyphus — who may have been mythic himself, and therefore a living example of (or contradiction to) his own (meta-) thesis depending on which side of the Deontological school your argument fell on, because some proponents of this school were deaf — which said that after the first ball, the civilisation would run down and degenerate quickly and balls would no longer be all the rage but would grind down to become only drudgery. Life would lose its bounce and eventually the "lifeline" of the people of the ball would go flat.