THE KARI KRISN�KOV� DIARIES

VOLUME II: GOODNITE LUDDITE

WARNING: Some readers may find this document offensive, because it describes scenes
of extreme and gratuitous ultraviolence, is sexually perverse in places, uses some
rather rude words occasionally, and some may also find it offensive on religious
grounds. But to censor it would rob it of all intensity, so I hope that you will
accept this philosophically, in the name of art.

I want to emphasise that it is NOT my intention to promote violence in the real

world by publishing this work. It is meant rather as a refraction into surreality
of the struggle between Good and Evil in the world. I do not deny that this work
promotes Selesianity as a religion, although it does so in a very fictionalised
way, which is not intended to paint an accurate picture of Selesianity as a real-
world religion. I am not claiming that Monica Seles is God, nor that God recognises
Selesian sacraments, I am just giving Monica high praise in my own unorthodox way.
If you do not subscribe to these views, I hope that you will accept them with
religious tolerance, for we live in a philosophic area of fragmentation, where
absolutes are never convincing.

The characters and events described in this document are fictitious, and if any
correspondences with real characters or events are inferred, they should be treated
as personal interpretations, not as facts. Indeed, one of my main objectives for
Goodnite Luddite is for the audience to have their own personal interpretations.
Goodnite Luddite has deep, hidden meaning from my own experiences, but to make it
meaningful to you, you need to associate it with your own experiences.

Copyright in text of this document rests with the author, Andrew Broad. All copies
of this document, in part or in whole, must acknowledge this by including this
paragraph.

O God! I could be bounded in a nutshell,

and count myself a king of infinite space,
were it not that I have bad dreams.

[William Shakespeare,
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark: Act II, Scene II]

2nd DECEMBER, AS 999

It was at precisely 19:54 and 27 seconds on Selesmas Day - the dawn of the
thousandth Selesiad - that Pope Andrew I completed his Match at the Holy Land
Monastery. Andrew defeated Sandra Snafus 6-0 6-0, winning every single point in a
Match that had begun on the dot of 19:30.

Sandra won the toss and elected to serve, but she soon came to regret that decision
as Andrew broke serve immediately with pure instant return winners, two-handed on
both sides, his body swinging away to make room for the racket - lovely movement,
the feet immaterial really, the eye on the ball.

Andrew then held serve easily, serving clean aces, frequently wrong-footing his
hapless opponent with deceptive tosses. I'd even go as far as to say it's the best
serve in Selesia. I don't know another player in the monastery that has that serve
that kicks up so high - it's SUCH� big advantage.

Sandra tried to mix it up, sometimes serving and volleying, sometimes trying to gun
with Andrew from the baseline. Poor Sandra Snafus was going through hell, because
all her best shots were coming back with interest, often for clean winners. Andrew
was hitting the ball so hard and so fast that some of the congregation had to take
dramasil to watch him play!

Andrew played great spreading rallies, too - making Sandra run from side to side,
creating open spaces to hit winners into. His groundstrokes were so flairsome, too:
thin and sharp, and taken on the rise - almost as half-volleys.

Sandra tried to pin Andrew behind the baseline with deep, sliced backhands, coming
to the net behind them, but Andrew simply took the balls early and passed her like
she was not at the net. For example, the point with which Andrew won the first set
was a perfect approach shot by Sandra that skidded off the line, but Andrew took it
as a half-volley - no technique in that shot at all, really, he just hooked it for
a winner.

In a way it was a little bit ridiculous, you had to laugh, because there was no
situation on the court where Andrew didn't come up with a winner. It was becoming
faintly ludicrous - what do you do against him?

In the end, Sandra resorted to moonballing tactics, but it presented no problems

for a man who has lasers for eyes, as Andrew smashed them out of sight.

We were actually beginning to feel sorry for Sandra Snafus, who, when she got to
the ball, was playing very good shots indeed. She volleyed deep, into the corners.
She served well, really. But my lasting memory of that match is the look of total
bewilderment on her face, as time and again the returns of serve and passing-shots
just whistled past as she groped at thin air.

After Andrew hit the final winning smash, the look of radiant joy on his face was
wonderful to behold. Indeed, it seemed to him that everything around him was
glowing, so delighted was he with his victory. He claimed the very source of joy
ran through - it didn't, but it seemed that way.

As Andrew embraced Sandra at the net after her dispapsinating defeat, she burst
into tears. Andrew consoled her, saying, "It's better to be eaten by Monica than
fed by anyone else."

"A most original conception, Your Holiness - the Birth of Serena." So said Cardinal
Ana Kintobers, Abbess of the Holy Land Monastery, with a touch of coldness in her
voice. "I pray that I may assist you in the birth of a new Selesia, where Church
and State are one."
"In the name of the Father, and of the Daughter, and of the Holy
Groundstrokes. Ah-EE!!"
"And may the Krisn�kov�n be driven from the land," said Ana, making the
Sign of the Knife.
[The Devils parody]

Oh to capture just one drop of all the ecstasy that swept that afternoon
To paint that love upon a white balloon
And fly it from the toppest top of all the tops that man has pushed beyond his
brain
Satori must be something just the same

[David Bowie, "Memory Of A Free Festival" from Space Oddity]

PROLOGUE: THE SPECTRUM CHILDREN

With the accurate understanding of Monica and her game, they went about the work of
building a new nation: Selesia.

Using the Jet Set Willy Construction Kit promoted by Broadsoft, the Spectrum
Children constructed a Digital Abbey that extended through sixty-four rooms.

The Abbess, who understood the Selesian doctrine that was handed down from Andrew
long ago, reflected the true meaning 2 her Apprentice every day, and she
surrendered her discerning of it in2 the Abbess's care and keeping, 4 she trusted
she would lead in the right way. The Brethren in subjection 2 the Apprentice, she
in subjection 2 the Abbess, and the Abbess in subjection 2 Monica - all 4ever in
subjection 2 the Holy Groundstrokes.

As prophesied, the Abbess and her Apprentice were tempted by Kari Krisn�kov�. She,
knowing full well the Abbess's love 4 Monica, assimilated the Apprentice first -
and only. Quite naturally chaos ensued, and the Apprentice and two others were
banished from the Monastery 4ever.

The Wise One, who understood the law that was handed down from Andrew long ago,
held fast in her belief that Monica would bring her another one who loved her so.

[parody of Prince, "Rainbow Children" from The Rainbow Children]

13th DECEMBER, AS 999

The three Wierd sisters - Medusa, Satana and Moraga - were huddled around a
computer of Spectrum +5 class, evidently to perform a magic ritual.

"Sollten wir wirklich den Geist von Kari Krisn�kov� beschw�ren?" asked Satana.

"�no," answered Moraga. "Je to mil� dievca. M�m ju velmi rada."

"Einverstanden," said Satana. "Zieh den Kreidekreis! Vorbereit das blaues Feuer!
Geister des Interregnums beschw�re ich!"

Medusa looked into the blank cyan screen. "Karin... Karin... Karin... Karin...
Karin..." she intoned.

Suddenly a dialogue-box appeared on the screen:

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Unknown File Type

You have started to download a file of type

spirit
Click "More Info" to learn how to extend Navigator's capabilities

More Info | Pick App | Save File | Cancel

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Medusa clicked "Save File".

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Save As...

File name: kari_krisnikova.spirit | Save

Save as type: All Files (*.*) | Cancel
-----------------------------------------------------------------

Medusa clicked "Save".

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Saving Location

Location:
Saving
Status:
Time Left:
-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Chcem sa poobzerat po kl�store," announced Satana.

I can tell you what they say in space

That our earth is too grey
But when the spirit is so digital
The body acts this way

[Marilyn Manson, "Disassociative" from Mechanical Animals]

14th DECEMBER, AS 999

Jennifer Cawkill dreamed she was walking in a ploughed field. She was wearing a
white nightgown, and the soil felt sensually crumbolious under her bare feet. But
she was distraught, for she was mourning the death of a close friend.

"All alone," she cried in her deranged Cockney accent. "All alone in the dirt!
We've lost our way, and the little worm won't dance if he's told to!"
[Drusilla in Angel]

Jennifer saw a stone slab sticking up in the middle of the field. It looked like a
headstone, and as she approached it she saw that that was exactly what it was. It
bore the inscription "Kari Krisn�kov� burns in Hell".

Jennifer noticed something odd about the foot of the headstone. A peculiar cyan
glow was emanating from the soil just in front of it!

Jennifer knelt down to investigate, and suddenly an arm burst up through the soil
and grabbed her!

With a great force, a cyan lady thrust herself up out of the grave, so hard that
Jennifer found herself up to her ankles in soil.

Then Jennifer caught Kari's eyes, and it was like she had been hypnotised. They
were deep-set, radiant eyes, so piercing that Jennifer couldn't bear to look at
them, and yet so mesmerising that Jennifer couldn't look away. "Be in my eyes,"
Jennifer heard a voice inside her head saying. "Be in me."

Then Kari took Jennifer by the shoulders and bit into her neck! Kari sucked the red
blood from Jennifer's body as through a straw. She sucked and sucked until
Jennifer's pulse began to slow down. Then Kari took a tiny knife from around her
neck, slashed across her own collar-bones, and cradled Jennifer to her bosom to
drink her cyan blood.
Look into her angel-eyes
One look and you're hypnotised
She'll take your heart and you must pay the price
Look into her angel-eyes
You'll think you're in paradise
Then one day you'll find out she wears a disguise
Don't look too deep into those angel-eyes

[Abba, "Angeleyes"]

4th DECEMBER, AS 999

Meet Tristan Brentwood, a PhD student who has submitted his thesis and is awaiting
his viva. Fed up with life and the way things are going, he decides to enter a
monastery.

It was a dark, stormy day when Tristan turned up on the doorstep of the Holy Land
Monastery in Selesia. He rang the doorbell. A porter answered it, and showed
Tristan through to a room in the monastery. Tristan was impressed with the decor in
the monastery - in particular, he liked it how the doorways were not empty, but
contained two blocks of floor so that one could jump up and walk through the wall
from right to left!

Tristan found himself in a room with bare stone walls, and a wooden table with
benches. He was alone with a stout lady in her late fifties, who was wearing a
white habit. She said nothing, and after an uncomfortable silence, Tristan supposed
that she was waiting for him to speak.

"Hi! Erm, I was wondering if I might stay here for the time being. You see, I've
submitted my PhD thesis and I'm waiting for the viva, so now seems as good a time
as any to test my vocation as a monk. I'm so freaked out with my PhD that I need to
retreat to a place apart. It's the be all and end all for me. It would mean so much
to Computer Science if my thesis were to pass its exam, and I'd be happy to enter a
monastery and never speak again!"

"We speak!"

"I'm sorry, I just assumed you had taken a vow of silence."

"There is a time and a place for silence, even in a monastery! Allow me to

introduce myself. I am Ana Kintobers, the Abbess of this monastery. And who might
you be?"

"Tristan Brentwood."

"Are you a Selesian?"

"Yes, I am a devout worshipper of Monica Seles. I have all her matches on video,
and I follow the doctrine that was handed down from Andrew Broad long ago."

"May I ask which denomination?"

"What do you mean by `denomination?'"

"The Orthodox Selesians follow Andrew's Selesian doctrine, and consider themselves
the true trunk of Selesianity, but there was a Reformation which produced several
branches. There are now Monicans (extreme Selesians), Majolites (who recognise Iva
Majoli as the successor to Monica), Jelena's Witnesses (who recognise Jelena Dokic
as such), and a number of small cults. The denomination of this monastery is
Western Unorthodox - a unification of Selesianity with the concepts of We Pretty."

"We Pretty? That's my favourite Jet Set Willy game, even though lay players can't
get past the first room because of their ignorance of jumping through wall-blocks!"

"Quite. Anyway, first things first. Are you baptised?"

"No; I've just been following the ways of Selesianity since I found out about it on
Andrew's website."

"Then I must baptise you into the Selesian Church. I'm going to ask you a series of
questions, and if you agree, say `I do.' Okay?"

"Okay."

"Do you reject Kari Krisn�kov�?"

"I do."

"And all her works?"

"I do."

"And all her empty victories?"

"I do."

"Do you believe in Karolj Seles, Father of Monica and Creator of her Game?"

"I do."

"Do you believe in Monica Seles, his only Daughter, our Lady, who was born of her
Mother Esther, was stabbed and forced out of tennis for two-and-a-half years, but
returned in glory and is now seated at the right hand of the Father?"

"I do."

"Do you believe in the Holy Groundstrokes, the holy Selesian Church, the Communion
of Saints, the Forgiveness of Sins, the Resurrection of the Body, and Tennis
Everlasting?"

"I do."

"I baptise you in the name of the Father, and of the Daughter, and of the Holy
Groundstrokes."

"Ah-ee!"

"Karolj Seles, the powerful Father of our Lady Monica Seles, has given you a new
birth by water and the Holy Groundstrokes, and forgiven all your sins. May he also
keep you faithful to our Lady Monica Seles for ever and ever."

"Ah-EE!!"

8th JANUARY, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood, Sister Daniela Heelhedov�, Brother Lemuel Stillborn and Sister
Paquita Karamasalata were sleeping on the mosaic stone floor of the pantry in the
Holy Land Monastery. They were taking it in turns to keep watch in case anything
good should arise - or indeed, anything evil.

It was Lemuel's turn to keep watch as the other three slept.

As Tristan drifted off into sleephood, he dreamed that he was still in the pantry
with the other three, but there was something strange about the mosaics on which
they were sleeping. There was a faint cyan glow in the cracks of the mosaics. It
would get stronger and stronger until the whole pattern underneath each of the
sleepers was illuminated, and then fade away again.

Lemuel fell asleep during his watch. He too dreamed about the cyan-glowing mosaic
patterns, but he was aware of an evil presence in that stone floor. He then saw a
cyan wraith arising from the mosaics under each sleeper!

The four cyan wraiths lurched up over each sleeper. They were transparent, and
stood with their feet in the sleeping bodies like ghosts. Lemuel was paralysed with
fear. The wraiths drew cyan swords, raised them slowly above their heads. Lemuel
wanted to scream, but no sound came. The wraiths then brought down their swords and
hacked Tristan, Daniela and Paquita to bits! Only Lemuel rolled out of the way just
in time.

The wraiths then came together as one, clashing their swords above their heads with
fell cries. They then merged into a single, opaque wraith. This wraith took the
guise of a cyan lady, built like a stick-insect, with a face so beautiful and
terrible that Lemuel was both transfixed and couldn't bear to look at it. The eyes
- in shadow yet bright and sharp - seemed to pierce his soul like obelisks.

Lemuel panicked and ran from the pantry. He ran up flight after flight of stairs
until he was on a neverending circle of stairs that went up and up and yet kept
returning to the same place, like one of M.C. Escher's drawings of impossible
objects.

Lemuel looked down the stairwell and saw the wraith slowly climbing up after him.
She went on and on until inevitably she was on the same level with him. She chased
him round and round the circle, and to his horror the circle began to shrink! It
shrank and shrank until she just reached over the bannisters and skewered him with
her sword.

When Tristan, Daniela and Paquita awoke in the pantry, they found Lemuel's
dismembered body lying beside theirs.

In the dead of night she comes to me

Swirling dreams through a mosaic hole
"Goodnight, Luddite" she says to me
And contaminates my soul

8th DECEMBER, AS 999

Love, like a rose in bloom

All of the Spectrum Children
Will feel it soon
Right and down, the word travelled
About this energy
Until it reached the Banished Ones
Who just wanted this love 2 cease
They now fallen in2
Kari Krisn�kov�'s dream
And they built a Digital Abbey
Or so it seemed
In this brilliant cyanness
So-called angels of white
"Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies"

And all the Spectrum Children

Will play and fight
2 defeat the Krisn�kov�n
4 the one who sits on the right
"4 HER, WE'RE WILLING 2 DO THE WORK!"

The Banished Ones approaching the Monastery shouted obscenities. They tried 2
confuse the Abbess and defrock her Apprentice. Furthermore they demanded
compensation 4 their time spent in the Monastery b4 the exile. This was noise!

"So b it," said the Wise One, and gladly obliged with a Spectrum +5. The Banished
Ones accepted it, and returned 2 their place of birth in Auda City.

As 4 the Spectrum Children, they began reconstructing the Digital Abbey. Room 2
room they went in search of those colour-cycling items.

[parody of Prince, "Digital Garden" from The Rainbow Children]

13th FEBRUARY, AS 1000

Sr. Josephine Tennezinal dreamed she was at a maritime village. The sky was azure,
and there was sand in her sandwiches.

Josephine decided to go for a swim, so she jumped through an innocent-looking block

so as to land exactly between on top of it and on the side of it. She fell into the
sea, but to her distress she kept falling down and down through the water, not
being able to swim back up again!

Josephine found herself in the monastery's tennis-court, which was completely

submerged.

To her horror, Josephine saw a great cyan shark at the other end of the court! She
tried to swim away from the court, but no matter how hard she swam, she couldn't
move from her current position!

The cackling shark glided over to her end of the court. Josephine closed her eyes
in denial - perhaps if she couldn't see the shark, it wouldn't be able to see her
either. She remembered from A Nightmare On Elm Street how to deal with monsters in
dreams: turn your back on it, and you take away its energy and it disappears.

But Josephine couldn't wish away the shark, and she felt large, sharp teeth close
on her leg.

She had never felt such pain. It felt like hot fire shooting through her body as
the shark ate her, and it wasn't long before she knew no more.

The brethren got a terrible shock in the morning, because Josephine's cell had
blood everywhere, and there was nothing human about her digested remains.
Hitler has only got one ball
The other is in the Albert Hall
His mother, the silly bugger
Cut it off when he was small
She kicked it across the Atlantic Sea
It landed in a coconut-tree
The fishes got suspicious
And they had trollocks and bollocks for tea

[schoolyard rhyme]

4th DECEMBER, AS 999

"This is the court where we play the Selebbath Matches," explained Ana Kintobers to
Tristan Brentwood. "Yes, you have to sacrifice a life to collect the top item, and
the entrance to the Sacristy is for experts only."

"The Selebbath what?" asked Tristan.

"The lay community celebrate the Selebbath (Saturday) by watching one of Monica's
matches on video, but here in the monastery, it is celebrated by the victory of a
Selesian over a Krisn�kov�n, which not only symbolises but embodies the triumph of
good over evil."

This had Tristan's head buzzing with questions. "What do you mean by `not only
symbolises but embodies'?"

"I mean that Monica Seles is truly present in the Selebbath Match, under the
appearance of the Selesian player. The Selesian player does not merely represent
Monica - it actually /is/ Monica in the body of the Selesian. The name for this
phenomenon is consubstantiation. The process by which the Selesian player becomes
for us the Body and Blood of Monica is called transubstantiation. After the match,
the Selesian player becomes his or her normal self again."

"How can such a claim be substantiated? I challenge you to submit the

transubstantiated Selesian to a DNA test!"

"The challenge is futile. It's the true presence of Monica, but under the
appearance (in all physical aspects) of the Selesian player. That which is
supernatural cannot be reached by natural senses."

"You've got an answer to everything, haven't you? Who are the Krisn�kov�ns of whom
you spoke?"

"Long ago, I had an apprentice by the name of Krisn�kov�."

"Not Kari Krisn�kov�, the art-ritual murderess from We Pretty?"

"The same. Karin was the sweetest person you had ever seen - so pure and natural
and innocent. She was a great ambassador for Selesianity. But Karin was seduced by
the cyan side of Selesianity, and turned to evil.

"Pride and jealously induced Karin to attack Andrew's doctrine and invent a new
creed. She wrote that members of other religions should be persecuted; that vows of
fanship might be revoked; that unmarried people might have sexual relations; that
Selesians might hit one-handed groundstrokes, &c. She wrote that the celebration of
the Selebbath was an abomination; that Monica was not truly present under the
appearance of the Selesian player; and that there was no necessity to keep the
Selebbath holy at all. She wrote against almost every article of Selesian belief.

"Karin kept her cyan leanings hidden for a long time, but eventually her heresy was
exposed by an email-trace, and we had no option but to cast her out of our
monastery - out into the big bad world, where there would be weeping and grinding
of teeth.

"Outside the monastery, Karin committed a series of unspeakable crimes, was

eventually brought to trial and was found guilty of abstract behaviour in the first
degree. So she was deported to the seventeenth century, and that was the last we
heard of her. We do not know what became of her then.

"But there is a cult on the outside, dedicated to her. The Krisn�kov�ns worship
her, follow her doctrine, and commit terrible atrocities in her name. That's why
every Selebbath a Selesian defeats a Krisn�kov�n, right here on this court. You
cannot appreciate the white side of Selesianity without the cyan side to oppose
it!"

"What do you mean by the cyan side of Selesianity?"

"A Selesian's strength flows from the Holy Groundstrokes - two-handed on both sides
they must be. But beware: flailing single-handed forehands, sliced backhands - the
cyan side of Selesianity are they. Easily they flow. If once you start down the
cyan path, forever will it dominate your destiny - consume you it will, as it did
my former apprentice!"
[Star Wars parody]

"Does `cyan side' refer to the white/cyan colour-symbolism in We Pretty? Could you
explain, please?"

"First of all, the term `white and cyan' is a fallacy. It simply is another way of
saying `this or that'. Let's examine the term `this or that' in its ultimate form,
which is: `this' means the truth, or `that' which is resistant to it. When a
minority realises its similarities on a higher level - not just `white' but `people
of tennis', and higher still `2-handers', and even higher still `Selesians', and
yet higher, `the Spectrum Children'. When this understanding comes, the so-called
minority becomes a majority in the wink of an eye. This action will cause a
Reaction or Resistance. The source of this Resistance must b banished, as it is in
direct conflict with the initial action. It cannot b assimilated, 4 its very nature
is resistance. In other words, one cannot serve 2 masters. U either hit 2-handed,
or 1-handed with sliced backhand."
[parody of Prince, "Family Name" from The Rainbow Children]

"And what if the Krisn�kov�n should win the Selebbath Match?"

"There's a prophecy that if ever the Selesian should lose the Selebbath Match, it
would signal the end of the world and the coming of the Antiseles!"

30th MARCH, AS 1000

Br. Quentin Threadsafe dreamed he was in the refectory with 99 other brethren. On
the table at the front, there were a hundred red gobstoppers. They each had to eat
one of the gobstoppers, but one of them was poisoned with cyanide. Whoever ate that
gobstopper would be dead in twelve seconds!

Quentin fingered his gobstopper with trepidation. Perhaps he would be the unlucky
one to get the cyanide!
Might as well get it over with. Quentin sucked his gobstopper, and Sr. Wynne
Elsatratya dropped dead.

The screw is a tightening atrocity

I shake, for the reeking flesh is as romantic as Hell
The need to have seen it all
The voyeur of utter destruction - as beauty

[David Bowie, "The Voyeur Of Utter Destruction (As Beauty)" from 1.OUTSIDE]

5th DECEMBER, AS 999

Tristan Brentwood was in the computer-room with the other novices, attending the
noviciate computer-course (little did Tristan feel he needed it, having just
submitted a PhD thesis in Computer Science!). The lecturer, Thomas Wasp, was a
brusque man with a loud, objectionable voice.

"If you listen to my voice, you'll probably notice that I'm from America. If you
listen carefully, you may realise I'm from New York City. And in New York City,
when someone wants to tell you to fook off they say `fook off' to your face, and
you have to look `em in the eye and face the consequences. So would the person who
wrote `fook off' on the attendance-sheet like to say `fook off' to me now? Come on
asshole, say it. If you give me that shit again, I'll have you thrown off this
fooking course. Don't think I can't trace who you are. Now who doesn't understand
that? Huh? Who doesn't understand that?"

Tristan squirmed uncomfortably, avoiding eye-contact.

Br. Wasp went on to explain the setup of the computers in the monastery. "We have a
cluster of Spectrum +5s, connected to each other via a campus-wide Ethernet - a
Spectrum on every desktop, running Broadsoft software. Via a PC-emulator, it is
possible to access the Internet. Since this monastery is entirely self-sufficient,
we run our own ISP called CompLine."

Tristan asked Ana Kintobers (who was still acting as his mentor) to log onto the
Internet so that he could check out his favourite Yahoo! Groups: "selesians" and
"manicminerandjetsetwilly". For only senior brethren are allowed to access the
Internet, since it offers many temptations for those with insufficient wisdom.

Ana ran the PC-emulator. "I hate having to use Micro$oft Window$, it's not e-
kosher," she muttered.

Ana opened the CompLine launcher and, as Tristan courteously averted his eyes,
typed in her password. But she accidentally typed it into Tristan's text-editor
instead of the CompLine window. "Oh shucks!" she exclaimed, and deleted her
password.

Ana typed her password into the launcher window, and chaperoned Tristan's surf of
the Internet.

Meanwhile, Br. Wasp had another bone to pick with his class. "This course is not a
place to have a discussion about religion. With all appropriate respect to
everyone, this monastery is about Monica and tennis, not anything having to do with
religion. I'm sure there are appropriate chat-rooms on the Internet where those
religious chat-seekers can discuss their concerns and views. I respectfully submit
that this course is NOT the place. Now who doesn't understand that?"
Ana logged out and left. Tristan clicked in his text-editor window and pressed
Undo, causing Ana's password to appear! Tristan gasped, and then started rubbing
his hands with glee. From now on, he could surf the Internet unsupervised, and
visit ANY site he wanted!

Monday's child is fair of face

Tuesday's child is full of grace
Wednesday's child is full of woe
Thursday's child has far to go
Friday's child is loving and giving
Sunday's child must work for a living
But the child that's born on the Selebbath day
Is fair and wise and good and gay

[nursery rhyme]

31st DECEMBER, AS 999

Tristan Brentwood was having a rather muddled dream in which he had been sent by
Ana Kintobers to pick up the Selesmas dinner (even though he had arrived at the
monastery two days after Selesmas Day) from the local Barber-Surgeon's shop outside
the monastery.

Tristan was somewhat distressed by the unusual system in the shop: it seemed he had
to choose his merchandise and take note of the price, pay for it at the register,
and take the receipt to another counter to receive his purchase. However, he did
appreciate the way he had to time his entry through the cyan-flashing door, and the
jump through the overhead wall-block!

Tristan selected a large dinner wrapped in a leathery red material like edam-rind,
but transparent. After psyching himself up for some time, he paid for it and got
his receipt, but it was after that that things went wrong.

There were two counters for receiving purchases: one attended by an assistant, the
other not. So Tristan queued for the first counter. But just as he was by the
second counter, a man arrived to attend the second counter. Tristan showed him his
receipt. "After these people!" barked the attendant.

Tristan sheepishly turned away and continued to queue for the first counter. "Next
please!" barked the second-counter attendant. But Tristan was now in the mode of
queuing for the first counter, and had rigidly made his mind up against being
served by the nasty man at the second.

"NEXT PLEASE!" Everyone stared at Tristan, who, as in all times of distress, was
swaying subnormally and going "voy... voy... VOY!" in a deep, bovine voice.

"What's wrong with this guy?" they asked. Tristan just stood there awkwardly, still
waiting for the first counter.

Tristan felt absolutely mortified, but he got his way in the end, and the girl on
the first counter handed him the dinner he had selected. "Mr. Brentwood," she said.
"Here is package that came for you this morning." She handed him a beige envelope
marked "CORRECT RESULT".

As Tristan grasped the envelope in his hands, he realised he was waking up from
this dream. But he badly wanted to know what was in the envelope, so he grasped it
tightly. As a child he had tried to pull objects out of a dream, but they just
slipped through his fingers like sand. This one didn't!

To his amazement, Tristan woke up in his dormitory-bed still clutching the

envelope! It had no address or stamps, just "CORRECT RESULT" printed on it in large
black letters. It contained a video. Not having access to a video-player right now,
Tristan slipped the video under his pillow. Time enough to investigate the matter
after the Selebbath Match...

Don't talk of dust and roses

Or should we powder our noses?
Don't live for last year's capers
Give me steel, give me steel
Give me pulses unreal

He'll build a glass asylum

With just a hint of mayhem
He'll build a better whirlpool
He'll be living from sin
Then we can really begin

[David Bowie, "Big Brother" from Diamond Dogs]

31st DECEMBER, AS 999

Ana Kintobers, playing the Selebbath Match, was in real trouble against a cyan-
spirited Kariite (extreme Krisn�kov�n) who went by the name of Kata.

Despite breaking serve early in the match, and serving for the first set at 5-4,
Ana made a bunch of errors, was broken back, and ended up losing the first set 7-5
after a long game with four set-points on her serve at 5-6.

Ana managed to get an early break in the second, only to be broken right back and
find herself 2-3 down. Ana was having an uncharacteristically inconsistent day -
she would hit one brilliant winner, followed by a really errant shot on the next
point. She's so used to playing like an invincible superwoman that she couldn't
cope with these errors from herself, and there was a look of panic and despair on
her face, rather than the usual look of positive intensity.

Kata, on the other hand, was playing out of her mind. Single-handed both sides, she
was hitting her forehand almost as hard as Ana's two-handed shots, and hit many
winners off that side. But what made life most difficult for Ana was an exaggerated
sliced backhand like a spinning knife that kept the ball low, dying away on the
slick blue Supreme court. Ana likes to hit the ball early and hard, but the slice
made her bend down and hit the ball late, robbing her of the pace she normally
thrives on. Moreover, Kata was amazingly athletic in moving from side to side,
making it even more difficult for Ana to dominate and overpower her, as Ana had
done to all her previous opponents.

We noted that Kata had no spin on her service-toss - a true sign of Krisn�kov�nic
possession! ;-)

Tristan Brentwood, looking on, was struggling with conflicting emotions. Of course,
as a devout Selesian, he knew that Ana must win at all costs. But Kata was a very
pretty girl: slim, fair-haired, and with the most arresting face he had ever seen,
with her deep-set, radiant eyes; her sexy, gawping mouth; and her spiky nose at
just the right quirky angle for him. As Tristan looked into Kata's wistful eyes, in
a perverse way he wanted /her/ to win!

The atmosphere in the congregation was one of absolutely palpable tension as Ana
and Kata traded breaks again, and Ana found herself having to serve to stay in the
match at 4-5. To the immense relief of the congregation, Ana held serve for 5-5,
broke for 6-5, and with an authority that she had been lacking in the match up to
now, served out the second set 7-5.

Kata reacted to the loss of the second set by playing a loose service-game in the
first game of the third set, as Ana broke for 1-0. This seemed to have broken
Kata's spirit, as she sat at the changeov� with her head in a towel, apparently
sobbing. But the games were still tough as the next four went with serve until Ana
led 3-2 (despite having two points for 4-1).

It was at this point that play was suspended due to a total solar eclipse. The
entire congregation looked on horrified as the moon crossed over the sun and
darkness fell. Some of them were even foolish enough to look at the sun directly,
and got a permanent ring burned onto their retinae!

On the resumption of play, there were loud cheers of "Ana, Ana, Ana", but it seemed
as though there were echoing cries of "Kata, Kata, Kata" from we knew not where.

Ana, serving at 3-2 with a break, held for 4-2 - but only after a very tough game.
But just when it looked like she was out of danger, she had another error-strewn
patch and got broken back for 4-4! As panic set in again, Kata held serve for 5-4,
making Ana have to serve to stay in the match again.

The atmosphere was almost theatrical now, as the fight for dominance between good
and evil raged on. The rallies were nailbitingly tense, and the contrast of styles
would have made the quality of tennis mouthwatering to behold, were it not that
(due to the prophecy of the Antiseles) the world was at stake! ;-)

Tristan did not like the weary slump of Ana's shoulders as she sat meditating at
the changeov�. Kata, on the other hand, looked vital, and it seemed to Tristan that
cyan flames were running down her racket as she stood up, and went to receive serve
like a cold-blooded assassin preparing for the kill.

"When this kind of fire starts, it is very hard to put out. The tender boughs of
innocence burn first, then the wind rises, and then all goodness is in jeopardy."
[The Log Lady in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me]

Ana dropped the first point for 0/15 - never a good thing when you're serving to
stay in a match. She won the second point for 15/15, but netted a ferocious
forehand (which made an almighty crack as it hit the netcord) for 15/30. The next
point was so dramatic that everyone seemed to experience it in slow motion, as Kata
pulled Ana off the court with a wide-angled forehand, and sliced a backhand into
the open space for a winner.

Ana was thus facing two match-points at 15/40. Her face was red, sweaty and
despairing, and she looked sick to the stomach. She still went for it for all she
was worth, but hit a down-the-line forehand into the tramlines to make an end of
things.

Prick your finger, it is done

The moon has now eclipsed the sun
The angel has spread his wings
The time has come for bitter things
[Marilyn Manson, "Antichrist Superstar" from Antichrist Superstar]

2nd AUGUST, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood dreamed he was watching Kata practice on the Selebbath court. She
was wearing an apron, and a pair of wooden clogs that exposed her ankles nicely.
She seemed to be playing against an invisible opponent, because her shots were
coming back from thin air on the other end of the court.

Tristan was standing in a corner of the court, but no one seemed to be able to see
him. Indeed Kata walked right past him without batting an eyelid.

Suddenly Tristan was up in the stands, watching Ana and Kata play Match.

At 2-1 in the third set, Tristan left the court because he needed to go to the
toilet. He went through a door and found himself in large warehouse, full of large
wooden boxes. Boys were carrying boxes about.

Tristan tried to navigate the maze of wooden boxes. His `bog-fever' was getting
worse. Eventually, to his relief, he found a wooden door marked "Toilets".

Tristan went through the door and found himself in his grandmother's living-room.
It was full of ornaments such as glass paperweights and china shepherd-girls.
Evidently the `toilets' were these small mahogany boxes.

Tristan took off all of his clothes, crouched down over one of the boxes, and
started `the music'.

Kata entered, took off all her clothes, and likewise crouched down over another
mahogany box. This made Tristan diamond-hard!

But then, to his acute embarrassment, Tristan's whole family including his
grandmother came in and saw the whole situation!

Tristan woke up, and was immensely relieved. He didn't want to experience such
embarrassment ever outside of a dream.

Little Polly Flinders

Sat among the cinders
Warming her pretty little toes
Her mother came and caught her
And whipped her little daughter
For shedding her nice new clothes

[nursery rhyme]

1st JANUARY, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood couldn't wait to see what was on the "CORRECT RESULT" video that
he had pulled out of his dream on the morn of the Ana v Kata match. Mindful that
monks were strictly forbidden to keep personal possessions in the monastery or to
receive gifts or letters from outside, he kept the video hidden under his mattress.

Tristan decided he would sneak off in the middle of the night to watch the video.
The brethren went to bed at 11pm each night, so Tristan waited until after midnight
(and the turn of the millennium!).
His pulse racing, Tristan slowly and quietly slid the video out from under his
mattress, and tiptoed out of the cells (aka bedrooms!) in his bare feet. He snuck
down the pitch-black nightstairs, just under where Bill Ledgard the porter kept
watch on the roof with a lantern.

Tristan made his way to the TV-room, and carefully slid the video into the video-
player. He adjusted the volume to the minimum at which he could hear it, and
pressed play.

To Tristan's astonishment, the video was of the Ana v Kata match that had just
taken place! He watched it from beginning to end, and was just stunned at the
flairsome tennis from both players, the theatrical atmosphere of the match, and
above all Kata's beauty. He felt really nervous and guilty about watching it and
enjoying it so much, when it had ended with such a disastrous, nihilistic result,
but he found its qualities so compelling that he could not resist.

Just as he got to the end of the video, Tristan heard a scuffle in the corridor
outside the TV-room. In a panic, he ejected the video and concealed it inside his
habit. Ledgard entered the TV-room.

"This area is closed now - get out!" commanded Ledgard.

"By what rule?" asked Tristan. "I don't see anything to indicate that it is
closed."

Ledgard's face went puce with anger. "I MAKE THE RULES ROUND HERE!!" he yelled.

"I'm sorry," said Tristan gently, "but I have an out-of-hours pass, so I am

entitled to be in any public room of the monastery at any hour."

"GET OUT NOW BEFORE I CALL SECURITY!" boomed Ledgard.

"I'm sorry, this has never been a problem before," said Tristan, as he gave up the
fight and went back to bed. He was very upset by this run-in with a porter who
didn't know the rules, and cried himself to sleep.

I am a pretty little cyan girl

As pretty as can be
And all the boys in the neighbourhood
Are crazy over me

[nursery rhyme]

14th FEBRUARY, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood was having a Freddy Krueger nightmare. He was in a large five-
storey mansion, with many rooms and staircases. He was trying to find the best
hiding-place before Freddy appeared in the mansion.

Tristan found a dark bedroom on the third floor, which looked very suitable as it
had no windows, and had a large double-bed with just enough room for him to slide
under it and not be seen.

But his sister Aleksandra was in the room, lying seductively on the bed in a white
silk n�glig�e, her thin shoulder-straps hanging down coquettishly. So sexy girl,
fifteen years old with smooth bare legs, and arches in both the right places. "Come
and get me, big boy," she cooed, "I'm on the Pill".

"Dee-ate... dee-ate... dee-ate... DEE-ATE!" bleated Tristan in a low voice, his

eyes glistening.

Tristan was tempted, for she was an immensely hot babe, but knowing full well that
artificial contraception is a mortal sin, he left the room and, dribbling great
strands of precum, ascended the small wooden staircase to the top floor,
remembering that Freddy was coming for him.

The fourth floor was small and dark, and it too initially seemed like a good place
to lie low. But Tristan looked out of the window onto a horde of paparazzi and
helicopters, all busy taking photographs, caught up in the hype of the new
Nightmare On Elm Street movie.

In a panic, Tristan rushed downstairs, wondering where he was going to hide from
Freddy now.

He ran into Freddy on the second-floor landing.

"HMM-MM-MM-MM-MM-MM-MM-MM-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" cackled Freddy. "Pay the pet for the

rug-rat bitch!"

Tristan grabbed a long, hollow metal cylinder, shouted "VOY!" at the top of his
voice, and plunged it into Freddy's right eye. "AAAGHHH!" shouted Freddy, falling
backwards. Tristan literally pressed home his advantage, pushing the cylinder in so
deep that it graunched against the back of Freddy's skull. But Tristan couldn't
make it come out the other side, and then he woke up.

I'll just sit here and read my book

While I wait for my meal to cook
If an arrow comes then I will duck
And how I wish I was old enough to

30th APRIL, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood was making his confession, as all brethren were required to do on
the anniversary of the Stabbing, which marks the start of the Selenten period which
goes up to Seleaster (the anniversary of the Comeback, 29th July). His confessor
was Sr. Daja Heelhedov�.

"Forgive me, sister, for I have sinned," intoned Tristan. "This is my first
confession."

"Tell me your sins, my brother," said Daja.

"I have been selfish and overindulgent," said Tristan.

"What do you mean by overindulgent?"

"I have used the monastery's resources to pursue my own interests, and I have given
in to my bodily desires without restraint."

"Is there anything else you wish to confess?"

"Well, yes... I can hardly bring myself to tell you this, but I have a crush on the
Krisn�kov�n who beat Ana Kintobers!" said Tristan, blushing to the roots of his
hair.

"I keep watching that match over and over again, in secret, and I just can't get
it... or /her/... off my mind. I don't want to love her, I know how wrong it is. I
look at Ana and I'm like `What the Hell am I thinking?', and then I see Kata and I
just can't help the way I feel about her! I'm so sick of analysing the whole thing
in my head - it's just such a mess!"

"You must catch hold of your temptations while they are still young, and dash them
against Seles," advised Daja. "Whenever you feel a temptation coming on, you should
utter an ejaculation - these are short prayers such as `Sweet Monica!' - and
tearfully reflect on the suffering Monica endured for our sins."

"As penance for your sins," said Daja, "you must practice barefoot on gravel for
the rest of Selent. Now go to the Correction Room and pray four decades of the
Rosary: a Joyful Mystery, a Sorrowful Mystery, a Glorious Mystery, and a Mystery of
Light."

"O Monica, because you are so good, I am very sorry that I have sinned against you,
and by the grace of the Holy Groundstrokes I will not sin again," recited Tristan -
knowing full well his evil intentions for the future!

"I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Daughter, and
of the Holy Groundstrokes."

"Ah-EE!!"

There was a little girl

Who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead
And when she was good, she was very very good
And when she was bad, she was horrid

[nursery rhyme]

20th MAY, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood dreamed he was at a high-school reunion for his academic year. He
and his classmates were in an assembly, standing up, watching a slideshow. He
wasn't sure whether it was outdoors or indoors, because they were standing on
grass, yet there were walls. He didn't notice whether there was a ceiling. It was
quite dark.

One series of photos showed Kata emerging from the sea onto some sort of pier, and
walking up the pier. Tristan had never seen the object of his obsession so scantly-
clad before, and it absolutely got his pulse racing!

Someone slipped a packet of crisps into Tristan's pocket. He instantly realised

that she had given him something very precious, and he felt extremely grateful to
her. So he said `hi', but she ran away - it was obvious that she had wanted to give
it to him without him noticing who she was. But he knew intuitively who she was,
even though he didn't know her by sight. She was Kata's mother!

The packet of crisps had a black cover, and had Kata's full name written in cyan.
It was open at one end.

Tristan then realised that Kata herself, dressed in black, was standing next to
him! He folded her in a warm embrace, and kissed her passionately. But as he was
making out with her, he realised he was waking up. He tried desperately to cling
onto his dream, but she just slipped through his fingers like sand.

However, he did find that he had pulled the packet of crisps out of his dream. He
ate the remaining crisps, and it was only then that he realised that the name on
the packet was written in white now: Jennifer Cawkill.

Up in my lonely room
When I'm dreaming of you
Oh, what can I do
I still need you

[The Coral, "Dreaming Of You"]

26th JUNE, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood was in the CompLine computer cluster out of hours, surfing the
Internet using the password he had captured from Ana Kintobers long ago. He posted
the following message on the Selesians Yahoo! Group:

-----------------------------------------------------------------
Subject: Ana meets the Taxwoman ;-)

I know this sounds obsessive, but I can't help wondering what happened to Kata, the
jezebel who beat Ana Kintobers on that Black Selebbath last December! ;-)

I've been watching the video of that match repeatedly, and I have to say that
despite the loss (which surely prophesies the end of the world and the coming of
the Antiseles ;-) ), it was a great match in tennis-terms from both players and, it
has to be said, in terms of Kata's beauty :-o

Repent, for the end of the world is nigh!

I was also wondering what make of racket Kata uses - the one with a triangle
painted on the strings.

So, does anyone know where Kata is now?

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Within an hour, he had two replies:

-----------------------------------------------------------------
What have you been smoking? No one wants to hear about "Jezebel" or your ridiculous
religious comments about the "Black Selebbath" in relationship to Ana Kintobers.
Also, if you're wondering what the triangle represents, it was probably a pink
triangle representing a gay/lesbian connection. I'm sure that will sit well with
your religious fanaticism. I have told you before that it's time to see a
psychiatrist because you're simply not well. Lastly, how you make reference to Kata
being a "Taxwoman" is another twisted and warped interpretation on your part. Take
your nonsense to your church or temple as this eGroup is no place for it. Frankly
put, I think you're as dangerous and sick as G�nther Parche, the guy who stabbed
Monica Seles.

Maybe if you got laid more often you would not be so obsessed with Kata, and if you
stayed away from Church long enough to see daylight you might see that there is
more to life than ridiculous prophecies that frankly no one pays attention to. Do
you actually think anyone gives you any credibility with your rambling emails? Not
to mention your sick commentary about other athletes. I wouldn't be surprised if
your name is on the same security watch lists at European tournaments that was
created after your colleague G�nther Parche put a wrench into Monica's career. Your
sanity is no better or different than G�nther's and don't think you're fooling
anyone.

And lastly, get a life. You shouldn't be surprised by this email, you are sending
out garbage en mass to large email groups and deserving of direct and frank replies
to your rambling nonsense.

Best wishes to you.

Thomas Wasp.
-----------------------------------------------------------------

The second reply was much more welcome. It was from Medusa Wierd, and contained no
message, just an attached file "kari_krisnikova.spirit". His blood up from Thomas
Wasp's vitriolic email (at least he wouldn't realise that it was Tristan, as
Tristan had posted under a pseudonym), Tristan didn't consider the possibility of a
virus as he downloaded the file...

Ledgard the porter strode into the room. "GET OUT!" he barked.

This time Tristan was ready for him. "If you come in here one more night and say
that, I'll punch your lights out!" he boldly answered back.

Tristan showed Ledgard his out-of-hours pass, and a printout of the rule by which
pass-bearers were allowed to use the computer cluster at any hour of the day, which
he now KARIed with him at all times on the offchance that he might be challenged
again. No more would he put up with being kicked from pillar to post by the
authorities!

"If you apologise like I know you're going to," said Tristan smoothly, "I might
just forget to lodge a complaint against you."

Motor-sensational
Paris or maybe Hell (I'm waiting)
Clutches of sad remains
Waits for Aladdin Sane (you'll make it)
Ooh, who'll love Aladdin Sane?
Millions weep a fountain, just in case of sunrise
Ooh, who'll love Aladdin Sane?
(Sane the lights of popes who ride a darkened road)

[David Bowie, "Aladdin Sane (1913-1938-197?)" from Aladdin Sane]

27th JUNE, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood dreamed he was in a dark log-cabin. Written on the wall in cyan
chalk was a four-letter word beginning with `K', but he couldn't make out the other
three letters.

Tristan saw a beautiful lady. Her body was glowing a radiant cyan, her face - in
which he recognised she who had beaten the Abbess - looked almost impossibly
pretty, and Tristan was enraptured by her strong magnetic presence. "Name your
heart's desire," she said.
All Tristan wanted out of life was to get a PhD.

"Whenever there is a conflict between religious rights and human rights, the human
rights should take precedence. Is that something you might agree with?"

Yes.

"Are you saying that because you think it's what I want to hear, or are you saying
that because you've thought about it and you truly believe it?"

I believe it.

"What /did/ I just say?"

That human rights should take priority over religious rights.

"Do you love me?"

As surely as Pope Andrew is a Selesian.

"Then I propose the following pact. If you pass you will diminish, go into the
west, and remain Tristan Brentwood. If you fail, you will give your body and your
soul to me. Does that sound reasonable?"

Yes, that would be some compensation! ;-)

"Then sign your name in blood on this piece of paper, and throw it in the fire."

Tristan did so, and the paper burned with cyan flames.

"Good. Your reward will be plenty for us befitting the hardships you have endured.
You will see me one more time if you do good. You will see me two more times if you
do bad."

[inspired by the Cowboy scene in Mulholland Drive]

Come in by the gold gates or not at all

Take of my fruit for others or forbear
For those who steal, or those who climb my wall
Shall find their heart's desire, and find despair

[from C.S. Lewis, The Magician's Nephew]

29th JULY, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood was alone in the CompLine computer cluster, celebrating Seleaster
(the anniversary of Monica's Comeback, when she had instituted the Selebbath with a
victory over Martina Navr�tilov� in an exhibition-match) with an illicit surf of
the Internet (having tried - unsuccessfully - to give that up for Selent).

The door opened behind Tristan's back, and Sr. Daja Heelhedov� entered. Tristan
tried to minimise his Navigator window, but to his embarrassment he hit maximise
instead, and the image he was looking at expanded to fill the whole screen. He
blushed.

"How did you get in here without the key?" asked Daja, in her cute East-European
accent.

Tristan paused uncomfortably, and he nearly went into one of his `modes' where he
wouldn't respond. "Who, me? It was open," he said, not thinking of a better
explanation in the heat of this unexpected moment.

"Well, that's very strange," said Daja, "because I just got the key and unlocked
it."

At that point, the telephone rang and Daja answered it. Tristan felt relieved.

When Daja put down the receiver, her eyes were full of tears. She came over and sat
down next to Tristan. "I'm afraid I have some terrible news," she said.

Tristan's pulse started racing with anxiety.

Daja put her hand on Tristan's knee. "There's no easy way to say this," she began,
"but... but..." and she burst into a bout of uncontrollable sobbing.

Tristan felt most awkward with this waterfall of emotion and sat there stiffly,
`voying' softly, not knowing what to do for the best.

"Ana has... Ana has..." spluttered Daja, and broke down again.

Tristan went cyan with shock.

"Ana has contracted the Ebola virus," Daja finally managed to get out. "There's no
cure."

You must see the movie, the sand in my eyes

I walk through a desert-song when the heroine dies

[David Bowie, "The Secret Life of Arabia" from "Heroes"]

12th AUGUST, AS 1000

Br. Androdais Babayaganov dreamed he was walking up a cliff-path directly behind

Sr. �sa Masari, returning from a fishing-trip. At least that's who he thought it
was, but even in his dream he was vividly aware of Joseph Griffin's dream-theory,
which states that if you recognise someone's face in a dream then they are a symbol
for somebody else, whereas if you feel their presence without seeing them then they
really are who you think they are. He could see her body but not her face.

Androdais saw �sa tread on a spiky green creature the size of a tennis-ball. �sa
collapsed, clutching her right foot and howling in agony. Her sole was covered in
green slime, and the spikes had punctured her skin.

Now that he could see her face, Androdais took careful note: her face was
indistinct.

Androdais knew what he had to do. He put her foot to his mouth, sucked out the
poison, and spat it out.

But, as he was doing so, he didn't notice the Magenta Pirate materialising up in
the clouds above them! The Pirate was holding a giant fishing-rod, and letting down
a string with a sharp hook on the end.
The Pirate hooked �sa right through her right eye, and she screamed in agony. The
Pirate then proceeded to wind up the string, pulling �sa into the sky by the part
of her skull behind her right eyebrow.

Androdais looked on in horror as �sa was pulled halfway up the sky, then the hook
snapped off the string and she fell into the sea.

Androdais ran down to the beach. But the sky darkened, and suddenly the sea became
a giant lake. On the lake there was a cyan swan. He watched it as it swam towards
him, but as he caught its eyes, he was petrified. They were beautiful, radiant
eyes, but they pierced him like a basilisk.

Androdais stood there, rooted to the spot, as the swan came out of the water, stood
up and spread its wings. With one swift blow of its right wing, it broke
Androdais's neck.

The brethren were distraught to find the bodies of Androdais and �sa in their cells
the next morning. They found Androdais with his neck broken, and �sa's very
bedraggled, waterlogged body; her right eye was completely gouged out, and the
autopsy revealed curious scratchings on the inside of her skull.

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet
Eating her curds and whey
Along came a spider
Who sat down beside her
And ate up Miss Muffet today

[nursery rhyme]

17th SEPTEMBER, AS 1000

Tristan Brentwood was sitting on the garderobe at 23:59 when Ledgard the porter
entered the reredorter. "I'm locking up now!" he announced, and switched the lights
off.

It happened so suddenly that Tristan didn't even have time to yell "OYYY!", this
eloquent phrase only occurring to him thirty seconds after Ledgard had locked the
door and left.

It certainly gave Tristan ample time to consider the age-old question: how does a
blind man know when his ass is clean? And since he was in for the night, it gave
him plenty of time to reflect. Little did he know that the door could be unlocked
from the inside without a key (there was a special knob to comply with fire-
regulations). At least he was in a place with water and toilets - no bog-fever for
him! ;-)

Meanwhile, Ana Kintobers was in the cells, checking the beds of the brethren for
personal possessions, in order to uproot from the monastery the evil practice of
private-ownership. When she inspected Tristan's bed, she threw up her hands in
horror at what she found: a video, a cyan-soaked tissue, and an inverted knife!

Oh Mummy, Mummy, Mummy

There's something up my bummy
It's long and brown
It's coming down
27th SEPTEMBER, AS 999

Tristan Brentwood went to the bindery because he had to get his PhD thesis bound
before he submitted it the next day.

Tristan gave the two copies of his thesis, The Beliefs of Monica Seles, to the man
in charge of the bindery, Nestor Storm-Egg. "Hard-bound or soft-bound?" asked
Storm-Egg. Tristan didn't like the disdain with which Storm-Egg flipped his
precious thesis up and down to get the sheets of paper aligned.

"Soft-bound, please," replied Tristan.

"That'll be sixteen pounds," said Storm-Egg.

Tristan wrote a cheque, and handed it to Storm-Egg.

"Where's your cheque-guarantee card?" asked Storm-Egg, brusquely.

"I haven't got one," said Tristan. The concept was new to him. Little did he know
that his debit-card would do for a cheque-guarantee card.

Storm-Egg's voice turned sour. "All I can say to that is, if your cheque comes back
for any reason at all, the university will cancel your degree."

"Is that so?" Tristan answered back. "All I can say to that is, if they do anything
of the sort, I will take military reprisals!"

"You and whose army?" asked Storm-Egg, sardonically.

"Me and my two aeroplanes!" threatened Tristan, in the worst possible taste.

Come on, come on

You think you drive me crazy
Come on, come on
You and whose army
You and your cronies
Come on, come on
Holy Roman empire
Come on if you think, come on if you think
You can take us on
You can take us on
\
[Radiohead, "You And Whose Army?" from Amnesiac]

18th SEPTEMBER, AS 1000

Ledgard unlocked the reredorter, and found Tristan asleep on the floor. He shook
Tristan's shoulders to wake him up. "You must come with me to the Abbess's office
at once," announced Ledgard. He threw a bucket of cold water in Tristan's face, for
the sleepy like to make excuses.

Picking the sleep out of his eyes and eating it, a bleary-eyed Tristan followed the
porter to the office of Ana Kintobers.

"On page 224 of your thesis, you state that whenever there is a conflict between
religious rights and human rights, the religious rights should take precedence,"
said Ana. "Is that something you still stand by now?"

Yes, muttered Tristan in his usual just-got-up neanderthal voice.

"Are you saying that because you think it's what I want to hear, or are you saying
that because you've thought about it and you truly believe it?"

I believe it.

"So, since you believe that, you can't really be interested in securing your own
salvation."

How's that?

Ana showed him the video, the tissue and the inverted knife that she had taken from
Tristan's bedding. Tristan blushed to the roots of his hair, wishing that the floor
would just open up and swallow him.

"I always thought you knew it was me!" said Ana, laughing inanely.

"Well now," said Tristan, mustering bravado, "I'm not gonna talk about Kari, in
fact we're not gonna talk about Kari at all, we're gonna keep her out of this. Who
do you think this is there?"
[Philip Jeffries (David Bowie) in Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me]

There was a knock on the door, and Thomas Wasp entered.

Ana placed her hands on Tristan's head. "Karin! Spirit of destruction! Spirit of
grief!" she intoned. "I bang you with chains of iron! Lessen your hold and come out
of him now! Out in the name of Monica! He was intended by God to be a virtuous man!
Out Karin! Out! Out! In Monica's name!"
[parody of Brian Eno, "The Jezebel Spirit" from My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts]

But the effort was uSELESs. Kari's defense was too strong.

Ana said to Tristan, "Unless you have anything else to say in your defence, would
you mind leaving us while we deliberate? Just wait at your desk, and we'll come for
you in about half an hour."

Tristan left the office, and Ledgard escorted him back to his desk. Tristan wanted
to run right out of the monastery and far away, but the presence of Ledgard
resigned him to his fate.

It was the longest, most agonising half-hour of Tristan's life, as he waited to

receive the most important result of his life in the most inhumane way possible -
in person. He really had no idea how his thesis would be received, but what made
matters worse was that he felt the viva had gone badly. The questions had been so
different from the ones he had anticipated, and he had given short, monosyllabic
answers. The viva had passed so quickly, before he felt he had time to do himself
justice. Had his thesis said everything, or had it said nothing?

"Time," said Ledgard, and led Tristan back to Ana's office to rejoin the examiners.

2nd SEPTEMBER, AS 1000

The night after Br. Ebenezer Topspin microwaved the monastery's cat Fleabag, he had
a weird dream.
He was in a jungle, and all was quiet apart from the chirping of the crickets and
suchlike insects. But suddenly he came across a sight that froze his blood. There
in a clearing was a scary cyan tiger!

Ebenezer was so petrified he couldn't move. Beads of sweat dripped into his eyes,
blurring his vision.

When he wiped his eyes he was indoors, in a room with the giant microwave inside
which he would surf the Internet. He jumped into the microwave and slammed the door
shut, for fear of the tiger.

To his horror, he realised that the microwave-door couldn't be opened from the
inside - he was trapped in a very confined space!

Suddenly the microwave became a lift, which KARIed him up past the window. He found
himself in a room large enough to stand up in, with water up to his ankles. There
in the room with him was the lady who was making it all happen.

"You like tiger, no?" she said, with a playful laugh. "I have bought it in Germany
like six years ago."

Ebenezer was speechless.

"You must do exercises to test that you are ready for operation, otherwise
operation will kill you."

She made him stand up on his hands to do the exercises. She demonstrated each
exercise with her feet, but he had to do it with his hands. Thus he found himself
having to walk around on his hands, and splash up water with his hands.

Then she demonstrated something so paradoxical he just couldn't do it, and he fell
down. She said not a word, and he just lay there for minutes, his head spinning.
Evidently she had given up trying to help him since he wouldn't help himself.

When the time came for his operation, he found himself in the microwave-lift, which
took him up to the incinerator. So will it be at the end of time, when the angels
come to separate the wicked from the just to throw them into the blazing furnace
where there will be weeping and grinding of teeth! [Matthew 13:40-42]

In the morning, the brethren found Ebenezer's charred remains in his bed.

Miser
miser modo niger
et ustus fortiter!

[Carl Orff, "Olim Lacus Colueram" from Carmina burana]

18th SEPTEMBER, AS 1000

Ledgard showed Tristan back into Ana's office.

"Now this is of course subject to the ratification of the Senate and of the
appropriate committees," prefaced Ana. "Do you understand that?"

Tristan nodded. His heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to explode.
"Mr. Brentwood, there's no easy way to say this," said Ana, "but your thesis has
been rejected."

Tristan's heart plummeted down into the pit of his stomach, and he began shaking.

"Technically, that's the C(ii) box - rejection without the option of resubmission.
You are advised, however, to submit the thesis - with revisions - for the degree of
Master of Philosophy."

"I have already an MPhil," mumbled Tristan, struggling to fight back the tears that
were welling in his throat.

"I'm sorry, but the thesis was so completely inadequate that there was barely any
point in holding the viva, let alone permitting a resubmission," explained Ana.

"And let me say how thrilled I am," said Thomas Wasp to Tristan, "to learn that you
have failed your PhD. By the way, how does it feel?"

Tristan didn't dignify this with a response.

"You overstepped any reasonable boundary long ago, it's just taken others a little
longer to recognise your rambling nonsense and garbage," continued Thomas, rubbing
his hands with glee. "I hope your sojourn at this monastery is over as many of us
asked you nicely to stop spreading your Selesian crap over the monastery months
ago. You refused and became increasingly defiant while /increasing/ the amount of
religious references in your diary... instead of curtailing them. My wish for you
is that you get the psychiatric help you need and hopefully, upon your release,
return to society a healthier individual than before."

"Your sojourn at the Holy Land Monastery is indeed over," said Ana to Tristan. "You
can lurk off and starve in the gutter along with the rest of the world's losers,
see how clever you feel then - sleeping in wheelie-bins, and peddling your fresh
young body off to an old man's lust for 40p. I don't care, I'm sorry. Life's tough!
I shan't shed a tear [Matthew in Game On]. Depart from me you cursed, into the fire
prepared for Karin and her angels!" [Matthew 25:41]

Addressing Ledgard, she said, "Bind him hand and foot and throw him outside, where
he will eat his excrement and drink his urine."

Cruising round me, the flames burn my body

Wishful beginnings
Does this remind them again and again?
You're a sorry little girl
Sorry little girl

Shame burns
Breathing in, breathing out
Breathing in, only doubt
The pain must feel like snow
I'm no longer your golden boy

Sorry little girl

I'm sorry little girl
So so sorry little girl
The pain must feel like snow
There you go

Cover me, cover me

If you are the wings
We were deep in the dark air
And this one will never go down

We had such wishful beginnings

But we live unbearable lives

[David Bowie, "Wishful Beginnings" from 1.OUTSIDE]

EPILOGUE

And if one would look in the right place that winter, he could see Tristan's body,
frozen in the snow.

Can you succeed where Ana failed? First, you need to collect 256 items...

So it goes
Just a searcher
Lonely soul
The last of the Dreamers

[David Bowie, "The Dreamers" from 'hours...']