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Dream Journal

Max's eyes flickered open in the pre-dawn morning. He glanced over at the alarm clock and noticed that it was definitely too early to be up at the moment. He sat up and his feet hit the cold hardwood floor; he flicked on the light on the nightstand.

He grabbed the journal that was there and a pencil and began jotting down the remnants of his dream as it began to fade away from his memory. It was too bad that the dreams couldn't be taped and viewed over and over again to decode what they were trying to tell him, and it would be nice to spot the easter eggs as well. But a pencil and a journal was the next best thing.

A couple of quick sketches: one of a crow sitting on a fencepost with a pipe dangling from his mouth, another of a cat sitting on a rooftop overlooking the city, the last was a man with an eyepatch, a sort of David Hasselhoff as Nick Fury kind of vibe going on. Under each sketch he jotted:

Crow or Raven.... could be a Magpie.

Cat... or Trump? Hard to tell

Don't hassle the Hoff?


The Moat

In the morning when I awoke,
I was still in my dream,

a livid one at that, a lucid one like that.

In this dream that I had awoke,
I met a girl who was swimming in a moat,
a big moat it was, a deep moat it was.

I asked her what she was doing,
She told me it was none of my doing,
What did she mean by that, what was the meaning of that?

So, now I sit and ponder 
In this dream that I'm wanderin'
Maybe the world's like that, maybe it's all been that.



Max rolled over, hit the alarm, dragged himself out of bed. 

Cut through some back streets to avoid the crowds. Hot summer weather, low-orbit satellites visible in the clear sky between corporate towers.

Friendly wave from the young woman selling occult trinkets from a stand by the intersection. He had bought a few since moving to the neighbourhood. Her name was something like Melancholy? Agony?

The sounds of traffic reminded him of dreams he couldn't remember. Billboards advertising the new action movie, MAGENTA.

Dropping some coins in the cup of the Veteran camped outside the bank. Young guy, the side of his face burned, missing an arm.

Into the lobby of the office building, pulling his lanyard from his satchel and draping it around his neck just in time for security to check it. The older guard who always wore sunglasses. It was policy at the agency that staff were not to ask the guards' names.

He gave him the nod and Max proceeded towards the elevators.

"Oh, sir?" the guard said, catching his attention. Passed him an envelope that had been left at the desk for him.

In the elevator, heading to the fifth floor, feeling tired, opened the envelope. Handwritten note, unsigned:

'Thank you.'


New Europeans

In a quiet street washed by the rain, the room within the home.

Max sat at the table, his fingers drumming along with the song that was playing from an old battered radio that looked like it had seen better days. There was a chessboard set up with pieces in various locations and he studied their arrangement.

A lonely man sits cheek to cheek, with unique designs in chrome.

He was trying to remember the name of the band that played the song. It was a band that was big in the UK in the 80's but not so much in North America. The lyrics made sense to him now; he hadn't quite understood them back then.

"Was I alive in the 80's?" he muttered.

"I don't know," Trump replied. "Were you?"

The mellow years have long gone by, but now he sits alone.

"Yes," he answered. 

"Yes," Trump replied. "Your move, chum. Depending on what you move I will have you in checkmate in less than five!"

"You wish," Max said as his attention went back to the chessboard. He moved his hand to the Queen, which was shaped like an angel with two katanas held in her hands. 

"You sure you wanna use her?" Trump questioned.

He has a brand new radio, but never turns it on.

Max moved his Queen across the board where it took out Trump's Bishop.

New Europeans.
Young Europeans.
New Europeans.


CD Three

Max Cube Must Die!
V.2: See You In HELL, Fat Boy!
Music From The Oscar Winning Film:

(interior artwork: Max and Maggie standing on a plain, the word 'Version' above them, the word 'Noisrev' below, an ancient tree beside Maggie, a futuristic city beside Max, a sun between them, setting or rising)

Track 1: Cypress Hill - Insane in the Brain (Crystal Method Remix)
Track 2: Crystal Method - She's My Pusher
Track 3: Booker T & The M.G.'s - Green Onions
Track 4: Blue Man Group - X-Files Theme Remix
Track 5: Blood Sweat and Tears - Spinning Wheel
Track 6: Beta Band - Needles in My Eyes
Track 7: Beasty Boys - Body Moving (Fatboy Slim remix)
Track 8: Patient Saints - On Your Mind [Omaha Mix]
Track 9: Monster Magnet - See You in Hell
Track 10: Lunatic Calm - Leave You Far Behind [Version 2 Instrumental]
Track 11: Ecoline Crush - You Don't Know What It's Like
Track 12: BT - Believer
Track 13: Africa Bambaataa - Planet Rock [Swordfish Mix]
Track 14: Korn - Adidas (Techno Remix)
Track 15: Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff



The chain-linked fences laced with barbedwire, watchtowers bookending the gate, icy light thrown into the evening darkness by spotlights. The soldiers in grey, weapons flickering, tech scanning.

"Okay, let's run it," Max whispered to his companions in the crowd that was shuffling slowly through the checkpoint.

"I have some Divinities bookmarked," Angst went first. "But if they arrive in any way much stronger than a general blessing it will attract a lot of attention."

Frank was studying the guards, the spotlights reflecting in his glasses. "This has got to be the System, right? How many of these have we seen now? It's getting harder to go anywhere."

"Too many, but this is one we can't avoid," Max said. "We need through."

"I know, I know," Frank replied. "I'm sure I can think the troops into not noticing Goner's mods if they check under the hood."

"Appreciated," Goner said. He raised a gloved hand, the one he had had replaced. "And I'm pretty sure I've figured out how this can broadcast a smartwave scrambler signal that will spoof their ID-scanners."

"Well shit," Max said. "It sounds like we have an A-plan. How about a B?"

"Panic?" Goner said.

"Violence," Frank said.

"Improvise," Angst said.

Max chuckled.



We could live in maybes.

Standing in the woods at night, an unspecified

age and way, but always the past.

Speaking aloud into the darkness, the trees

somehow made of sounds, implied.

The courage to speak aloud there in the woods

in the darkness alone, real words spoken

out loud, meant to be heard.

We could live in the future.

Sitting at the desk, on the chair, this

furniture all gathered and handmade from the past.

Typing onto the plastic, the smooth lines, the thin

machine. Typing into the new space, electronic

and layered and fictional. Early gray morning in winter

on the laptop computer, tired but too amazed

to let it pass without record.

We could live in each other.

The sense, the way it starts a shining

in my stomach, the barest thought of you and the

idea, the possibility, as strange and as fleeting

as words in the woods and visions of the future,

that when our eyes met we gave each other something,

even if only a shining and words to make

poems from.


"I Am The Modern Man" [version.Upgrade]

Goner pulled back the hood. The side of his head was metal. The edges laced with fine-circuitry that flickered faintly, red, blue, green.

"Okay," Max said.

Goner unzipped his jacket and took it off. His left arm was also metal, highlighted with the same almost ethereal wiring. 

Max glanced at Goner's pants. "Is that everything?" he asked, lightly, trying to relieve the tension.

Goner smirked. It felt like Max hadn't seen him in a long while, but Goner somehow looked younger. It reminded Max of the time he first recruited him; or the time he first remembered recruiting him. It was a memory that they shared in most versions.

"What do I need to know?" Max asked next.

Goner cleared his throat. Looked around at the trees, leaves catching sunlight, casting shadows. They had arranged to meet outside the city, for safety.

"I chose it," he began. "It was my call." He looked down at his metal hand. "It feels sorta real, sorta... something else. Kind of like everything else has since that day."

Max smiled. The fact that Goner was remembering the same thing as him made him relax. 

"I guess I never felt like I had really committed to this. Even when I was a soldier, then working for the private security teams, I was never really all in. And after I died... Well, I still don't really understand everything about that, or how I came back, but I know I was scared for a long time, that it would happen again. And now, with whatever is brewing with this whole System revelation... I know things are going to get weird and probably bad. I wanted to be ready. I wanted to be able to help. To really make a difference."

Max nodded. "Thanks Goner." He gave it a moment. "Do I need to know how you got it done? Who you went to for the work?"

Goner looked briefly conflicted. Max noted that the circuitry on the cybernetic modifications didn't flicker in sync with Goner's reactions, which was good; it would be too big of a tell.

"No," Goner said. "Not yet anyway."

"Ok, cool. Let's try and get in touch with Frank and Angst. They missed you."


The Beautiful Majestic Sorrow

It's been several days now and I still don't know what the hell happened. I keep seeing posts on my twitter feed but they are so random and confusing and I can't make heads or tails of any of it. Professor Mox says it's all part of the crisis, and tendrils still seep through this "reality" or "our version of it" and pretty soon it will all be part of a forgotten memory. He explains it's like having a real vivid dream and then it disappears once you are wide awake and her mind has wiped the board clean and you are struggling to remember what the dream you had was all about.

It's hard for me to explain it. But, I feel I have to write it down and get it out there. I think whatever the hell happened that "static residue" of other dimensions bleed through. Like take this buffoon of a billionaire that is suddenly a presidential contender? There's no way in hell I thought he'd be able to even run but now he's on the tip of everyone's tongue. I'm not sure that I'm in my own version of life at the moment. Maybe, I've phased into a realm that is completely similar to my world.

Like a Twilight Zone episode and maybe just maybe I'll phase back into it.

Who am I kidding?

I think my mind will eventually accept this domain and then sweep these thoughts under a rug.





"That's not what I meant!" Angst said. "And don't you dare say 'I know what you're thinking'."

Frank rubbed his eyes. "I told you, it's off right now. Listen, I'm just concerned you're not factoring in all the variables."

"That's so patronizing, Frank. Just because I'm leading with my feelings doesn't mean I've lost all reason. I was the one who made first contact - maybe I have a better perspective on the situation?"

"And maybe you're too close to it! I'm just not sure taking action right now is going to make things better in the long run."

"So we don't do anything?" Angst asked.

"Now who's being patronizing?"

"What would Max do?"

"Who the hell knows? Some days he's X and some days he's Y."

"Okay, what would Maggie do?"

"'Haunted Warrior Maggie' or 'Guardian Angel Maggie'?"

Angst sighed. "Fine. I give up."

Frank sighed. "Okay, get your gear. We'll go."

Angst smiled.


CD One

The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack

(interior artwork: portrait of Max looking tired/haggard. The words 'Control, Obey, Question Mark, Plureality, Noo Media, N.E.O., Help Me, Have You Seen Me?, guns, knives, magick, chaos, mythology, space, clothes, confusion, signal, try, reject, far, robots, <anarchy symbol>, towers, complex, doubt, fatigue, hunter, shift, parallel, memory, orb, demons, computer, mix, wonder, fear, maggie, lost')

Track 1: Thomas Dolby - One of Our Submarines (Extended Mix)
Track 2: Tom Jones - Sex Bomb (Remix)
Track 3: Vanilla Ice - Ice Ice Baby (Revised Mix)
Track 4: Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here (Orb Atmosfear Version)
Track 5: Queen - Under Pressure (Rah Mix) (with David Bowie)
Track 6: KLF - What Time Is Love (Techno Slam Mix)
Track 7: The Crystal Method - Name of the Game
Track 8: The Timelords - Doctor n The Tardis (Extended)
Track 9: Sarah McLachlan - Possession (Chemical Bothers Remix)
Track 10: Richard Cheese - Baby Got Back
Track 11: Fluke - Zion
Track 12: KLF - Last Train to Trancentral (Razormaid)
Track 13: Monster Magnet - 19 Witches
Track 14: Queen - She Makes Me (Stormtrooper in Stilettos)
Track 15: U2 - In God's Country


Spilled Milk

Matt Khoob looked up from the book he was reading and over at Aggie and waited for her to speak. Her bright red hair hung to her shoulders as the sun streaked through the dark room. Providing light in the abandoned house.

"We've been here for three days now," he stated. Placing the tome on the table as he reached for the tea. "When do we move again?"

Aggie glanced at him and smiled. She had been sharpening her knife on a whetstone. "As soon as Hank and Toner return."

"Maybe they got captured?" Matt stated. "Then what do we do?"

"I guess we can cry over the spilled milk then," she replied.