NeverEnder Space Epic Poem / Book II / Chapter IV / XXXVIII – XLVI.

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XXXVIII.

There is no greater sexism than love among
sexes. Monkey shape-shifts into a Wallyeean
beauty. Not so much of an attractive woman,
but a lovable profiteer with a heart of gold

who had so many issues as a child, as she was
abandoned by one parent, while the other
committed suicide. Impossible to resist. The
call for self-destruction is so very wicked. Once

XXXIX.

again, Fortune Lobo falls in lust, or tenderness,
or the two mixed together. At this point John C
is feeling exhausted with the emotional ups and
downs of all life. He has his own love interest,

a clonal organism called “la belle dame sans merci”
(for lack of originality), who is a real-world
profiteer (or should I say, present-day. But then
again, what is the present). He has some very

XL.

convoluted feelings for this money-potter, who
(according to his theory) honey-potted him while
he was travelling to the Archive of Myth many
eons ago (or was it days). At the same time, Ariadne

is left with the task of making sense of all imper
manence. She is carefully archiving the myths, and
the transient stories, so that the Neverender continues
to be fuelled. Many of the stinkiest myths relate

XL.

to abandonment, and betrayal, and the mythical
monster from neverEnder history, the “GuiltTripper”.
This beast is relentless, living in the deep folds of
planet Fear. It shapeshifts, and right now Monkey

transforms itself into this dragon. Fortune Lobo
strays from the path, as he starts to feel a kind of
empathy with the stomach of the whale, and wants
to let go. Cicciotta is feeding John C, who has lost

XLI.

all will to continue, and his comatose mind is being
driven by self-forming patterns of narrative anxiety.
The GuiltTripper rises in the stomach of the whale,
and in the electron pathways of his cerebrotony. The

monotonous tones of the GuiltTripper call are music
for John C’s hypotonia and poetic “let-go”ness. Monkey
has doubts about profiteering, and about his identity.
All this shapeshifting are so very confusing. In the

XLII.

bank, “la belle dame sans merci” is busy creating
self-aware products of mathematical destruction,
deriving knowledge from pseudo-knowledge and
predicting the future. She lives on one of the most

Coruscant-leaning planets of the ubi-verse, which
sounds so obscene that we shall avoid mentioning.
Thanks to Byronocular vision, John C has spotted
her with his mega carbolatic telescope and he spends

XLIII.

many a night pining away, trying to distract himself
from his advancing dance-zheimer, and the broken
codes of his DNA, the rumblings of his stomach, and
the woes of an increasingly lonely Ariadne, now steering

the NeverEnder alone, and with no help, as the cadets
have gone to sleep, and officer Flexa is freezing with
echoes of Planet Fear. In the interior design of the whale,
Fortune Lobo pledges his alliance and loyalty to the

XLIV.

profiteering myth, and god-mobile in the shadows
rubs his fins. Now that all is done, Monkey is not so
very sure about what has happened. She shapeshifts
back to a Turandot-like figure, and sits down. She

resolves to escape the mouth of the whale, and start
a journey in the ubi-verse search for the mythical
lost city of Volterra, in search for answers. But the
GuiltTripper on planet Fear has been awoken, and

XLV.

has been summoned in the presence of Fortune Lobo,
now incapacitated by the profiteering myth, as well
as the myth of advancing amour-rouseness. The same
malady has striken John C, who is increasingly sick

and increasingly disenchanted with following the story
of the sick thoughts of planets, though the download-
upload may come from a mutation from his very blood.
In their search for the unconsciousness while travelling

XLVI.

incognito during the Borovoe middle ages, Cecco
and Gawain have become good friends, and their
partnership is based on a common love for poetry,
so their have endevoured to build a new City of

Poetry in whichever land or planet they happen to
be, and watch it grow. As it is widely known, poetry
incantations are autotrophic, they just need a bit
of water and starlight, and they are good to go.

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