(8 drabbles in an occasional series of 100. The City of the Saved is the intellectual property of Philip Purser-Hallard and appears here by kind permission. The authors of "1 trillion things to see before you're still not dead" accept no responsibility for the above sights not being part of any City of the Saved specific individuals may (i) read about, (ii) experience after their subjective or objective death. Readers experience the sights above at their own risk, post-mortem, albeit in a low to no risk environment.)
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
8 Drabbles from the City of the Saved : Tourism
8 Weekend Sights To See In the City of the Saved. [Extracted from popular weekly part work, ‘1 trillion things to see before you’re still not dead.’]
Delightfully antiquated, the partially cybernetic citizens of Trul, open their wheeled carts, to which their upper bodies are attached, each weekend to sell the micro-products of their internal nanofactors. These ‘carbot’ sales are a splendid outing for families especially those with organic or free range children, as the Trul can ‘gut-craft’ multiples of any described artefact. The currency of the Trul is praise and attention. Their crafts are an unconscious quasibiological recycling of non-usable carbon and plastic elements from their omnivorous diets. Neo-Freudians have called them anal for demanding their turds be praised, but then their turds are so marvellous!
Nimbyville lies at the base of the rolling Moving Hills, and like them, is migrating (in its case backwards) across the veldt of the Bollian Plains at the rate of two feet per month. Share the on-going protests and lie in front of the Hills’ geoformers as they rebuild the strata of the 94th century Rockmeisters’ Palatial Mansions. Tea and cakes are served in the ‘Protestors Encampment’ and for those willing to climb the Visitor’s Stairs to the Westward Terrace of the Magnifero Granificus the view of the Hills’ wake back to the start of their Millenial Migration is unmissable.
The retro-settlements of the Pa-No Delta, offer all that can be wanted in stone and pottery mosaic art. Luxuriate in nostalgia for a gentler time, or purchase a variety of pointy, stabby, bronze weaponry, warranteed ‘non-harmful’ by Inspectors From The Campaign To Keep War Safe. The polite and pleasant Pa-No people are please to be patronised for a modest fee. Considering a career in the field of Historical Humbling? The Pa-No Delta Frat offers a degree level starter course in Obsequious Body Language. Come on a Student training day, when visitors will be pandered to by the best newest apprentices.
At the Accelerated Limestone Caverns in Morovia, become a crystal for a day, and marvel at the quasi-ossification of your organic matter into living jewels! The secret funerial practices of the Gem Guild of the Seventh Manumissionaries, are now available as an experience, you won’t believe. “These are pearls that were my eyes!” : Shakespeare About. “Voted, best transorganic transformation experience of the week” : Hyperbling Magazine. “Two thumbs up, one ruby, one quartz!” Opposable Thumb-User’s Monthly. Thinking of slimming? simply chip off unwanted flesh during pre-imago restantation. Why not have your adipose made into costume jewelry? Surprise your friends!
Why not visit Sky-diver’s Village, the community, happily falling from the heights of the Watchtower towards the City below. They live and work, and (saucy!) breed, entirely in free-fall, and thanks to their investment in an open ended ‘gateway’, they’ll always be able to. For when a million years from now they would otherwise be forced to negotiate the shock of a – obviously not fatal, but still disconcertingly sudden – lifestyle change, their entire community will impact not the roofs of the City’s central districts but a teleportation array that will instantly reposition them back at the start of their dive.
In sunny, Pansosa, where the population – reborn from the heady days of the Sociological Empire – are still working out their newly permissible interest in the idea of ‘free will’, the Museum of Determinism offers an experience that you’ll be literally forced to enjoy, in a specific way. From the predetermined channels of the entrance- ometer, through to the fun of the ‘your body knows what you want before you’ve read the menu’ games in the blindfold automat, visitors can relax in the knowledge that their experience is literally mapped out for them. Win awards for predictability in the Lotto Grotto.
Swamp! What an image that single word conjurers up. Wallow – literally – in the fetid mud of ancestral abandonment, as quite possibly, your primitive forebears are still doing near by! Feel the ooze squeeze between parts of your body you weren’t even sure had a between! Watch re-constituted dinosauria thrash and bellow! Watch novelist in residence Saul Bellow, verbally tease a dinosaur in our Demeaning of the Extinct Festival. Buy ‘This Dinosaur Is Puzzled!” face-masks and swamp mud body paint to recreate this at home. [No dinosauria were harmed, as they are guaranteed not to understand irony, insinuation, or Saul Bellow.]
Godzilla Racing at Cheltenham: when horses just don’t cut it for you any longer, this once per decade event, in which Japanese jockies attempt to persuade behemoths entirely unaware of their presence to lumber rapidly down a specific course rather than fighting and laying waste to the vicinity, may be the treat you’ve been looking for! Eminently suitable for animal lovers worried that horses may be psychological damaged by racing. Remember to bring factor 1m sunscreen for the fiery-breath of these marvellous freaks of 27th century fictio-engineering. The thoroughbred champion, Gothgroa out of Krath-a-boom by Ultimos looks a sure thing!