As retirement . . . dribbliness, senility and death thunders towards me, there is a little more pressure to "put my affairs in order". All kinds of long forgotten assets are surfacing in my "mind" if not so easily in concrete actuality. My pal P in Boston picked up on my obituary of [monumental installation creator] Christo to mention that she had a piece of the true cloth from The Gates C&JC's mighty extravaganza in Central Park. It's not even enough to blow your nose on, but is nevertheless imbued with a p'arrrful magick. "The say" that if you gathered all the pieces of the True Cross into a single place there would be enough timber to build a small village. That sharing whooshed me down the rabbit hole of time to remember the Christmas when two of my students pitched in to buy me a present. It only took me three attempts to locate the correct bag in the
The power of junk mail to elicit a response is directly proportional to the number of items in the envelope. My acquisition of 1 acre of the Moon was documented with a lot of paperwork
- Proclamation declaring the foundation of the Republic of Luna
- The Deed (see below)
- A map showing the location of my 4/10ths of a hectare (ditto)
- Tourist information for the region
- Information about location including a link to an Atlas
- A shill for the atlas on CD - a snip at $30!
- A gift card from Lilian and Dave
- Declaration of Lunar Citizenship vested in me
- Information about the Kennedy Project
- Bumph from The Lunar Registry
- Invitation to send [more] money the the Lunar Republic
- Aspirational manifesto about The Lunar Settlement Initiative
- A page of very small print in which the assignor witnesseth and indemnifies the lien on the property of the assignee their associates heirs and sublessors
- A Lunar Flag decal for my hovercar.
Please, show me where Parcel 214 of Tract 1 is located:
0.4 ha or 100m x 40m is enough for a lot of solar panels. There are about 9 billion acres on the moon's surface, so more or less one for everyone in the audience. But you want to look sharp because some rapacious capitalists will be buy-and-hoarding this finite asset.
The thought being the deed, like, I have a mind to buy up other holdings in Tract 1, to consolidate my patrimony. Raids across the border and a few engineered atrocities, and I will march into Tracts 2 and 3. Within a few years, I will have toppled the Republic's rule of law in wide swaths of territory around the Mare Orientale. Lord Bob of Moon shall I be: The Great Influencer, Mighty Homeboy Warrior, Zapper of Mages, Assassin of Creeds. I will rule my empire from my capacious sofa. Moobies shall be the name of my followers; chips will they eat, all the days of their lives; six-packs they will have; swig-chanting they will cry "I have his Moobs I have his Moobs I have his Moobs"
I'll let you know when we're having the housewarming. As ambient temperature during the lunar day reaches 125°C it will be more like a housebroiling. I like my piece of up-there home; so thanks to Lilian & Dave who were big-hearted back then and went on to even bigger things when they flew the nest.
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