Of Being & Radians

Portrait of unthinkable uncertainty in a challenged 'pocket' of Earthling life, where coexistence yearning makes for the timeless superstitions of wrought dimension.

A world metaphysics vignette of manmade troubles compounded by other-worldly superstitions of deep fear. 

DISCLAIMER: This work of creative fiction and politics dramatization/faerie-tale contains images/references with no ties to any potential representative person(s)/body (e.g., journalists) and is cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' critique/views). 

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There were troubles. There were woes of Earthling streets, in poor Belfast (UK), where Catholic-Protestant coexistence conflagrated even by commerce/economics parity between the minority/majority population made for stranger ties of news and journals and art and fiction and the circles of story-circulation for the Ego/uncertainty (sure). However, this pocket of Earth was about to get a real challenge, from the dark side (Selfie-like).

Mr. Amlan Satan was working as an Algerian-American Catholic journal-man in troubled Belfast (Northern Ireland) and wrote almost daily about the street fever of economics/lifestyle linked coexistence paranoia, but when this dark presence surfaced, he felt like a ghost-story writer. Just think of the level of Hell and uncertainty to be endured by the Earthling population of Catholics-Protestants, already challenged by pocket/land tremors of exchanges for fortune/jam suddenly seeing their Blue-Planet life complicated by this dark entity with no certain message that would be un-compared to the fiery adversarial interference qualia of Lucifer (the Devil) himself. Amlan felt like Stephen King or something (wow).

ALIEN: I spy on you and now confer with you with my nihilism, journal-prince.

AMLAN: This is most irregular, stranger; for I've no concern but to report rumor.

ALIEN: You've heard of my dark-nights aura of street lore then in this place.

AMLAN: You're the Headless Horseman or Spring-heeled Jack maybe (entropy)?

ALIEN: I'm a message of the loss of consciousness...no reason to coddle Belfast!

AMLAN: That's a thought of oppression bled to poison, stranger (why?).

ALIEN: That's my examination game of Hell, journal-prince (Selfie-like).

AMLAN: You strike me as a self-exile minded invader with dare for surgery.

ALIEN: Facebook-like (ha).

The invader did self-exile, much to the relief of our protagonist journal-prince hero of sorts, Mr. Amlan Satan, who continued his micro-crusade in the United Kingdom to forward graphic ideas about wrought cleats of inter-religious coexistence for basic commercial life/space (for the Ego!). Was this an omen, a Martian (invisible) invasion of mischief of darkness, an intolerable chaos, or simply...an Earthling stones for Jabberwocky? What do you think?

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)