Via Ellipsis – Spain

Second Steps (Capítulo 4)

VIII

María and I had been arguing for nearly two days, trying to design some sort of malware that could defeat don Marcial’s poisoning of the e-brain network. Tirelessly, we wrote infinite lines of code, which would erase a few minutes later. Then María suggested a different solution: “Dara, you have the capability of talking through the e-brain network and making everyone listen. Why don’t you give them a message that will transform things for the better?”

Gripped by an unknown self-assurance fairly unusual for me, I connected myself to the e-brain terminal and started to improvise the most absurd, surreal and hilarious message I could. I mixed motivational words and a nasal voice blended with popular sayings, very bad jokes and psychedelic coplas.

I unplugged the terminal, and Maria and I waited to see the effects. After two minutes – which seemed like an eternity – we heard, from outside the window, a loud cascading sound spread over the city and – I guess – the whole country. It was the sound of loud laughter.

My telepathic message had caused a huge laughing fit that reset the collective neuronal networks. People willingly disconnected from e-brain.

Spain became the first country in the world to be ruled by a 100% humor-based vote: the government changed every week, depending on who won a comedy show broadcast from the city of Cuenca. Of course, the winners were those able to tell the best jokes. The people even justified the approach: “If we’re going to be ruled by clowns, lets at least get some fun from them.”

I knew everything was over, and my Dara had prevailed when we heard that explosion of laughter. I didn’t see him disappear, but I assumed Marcial had been completely obliterated by Dara’s telepathic message. He couldn’t interact either with this world or the other anymore, but it was clear to me that, somehow, ideas or mental images can trespass the borders between dimensions.

In the beginning, I was left with a sense of emptiness because everyone looked so happy, but my problems remained unsolved. And just then I began to feel as if a huge force was dragging me somewhere else. I saw a tunnel, my whole life passing before my eyes, and a blinding light at the end of that tunnel. Yet, as I approached the blinding light…, everything went dark. It was just like a blackout. Then I saw the trembling, yellowish glow of a streetlight. Next to it there was a dustbin, and next to the dustbin a rusty metallic door. It certainly looked like a backstreet.

“Meoooooww! Good night, sir,” I heard the voice, but couldn’t see the person, who sounded like a male. “Hey mate! Down here!”

I obeyed the voice’s command, looked down and saw a black cat in front of me.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Kunta Kinte, and I’ve been commissioned by Saint Peter to take you straight to heaven’s door.”

“Are you sure? This place looks rather like the secret entry to an illegal club in the times of America’s Prohibition.”

“Yeah, the guys from the production department are real geniuses, aren’t they?”

With a creaking sound, the rusty door opened, and a huge figure covered the whole opening. It was a tall, strong man of indeterminate age, his beard hardly concealing all the scars that crossed his face. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and it looked as if his muscles were going to make the buttons of his neat, expensive suit blow away. Over his belly, he crossed his hands tattooed with two words, one on each: “Saint” and “Peter.”

“Any issues gents?”

“No, of course not, …not at all…” I did dare to mumble.

“Then let’s all go inside, we’ve been expecting you, Antonio. There will be plenty of time for you tell us your story.” The huge bouncer man opened a second door and the roaring cacophony of jazz from the 1920s, screams and laughter replaced the silence of the night outside. I came in and saw myself in the middle of a party at which everybody was elegantly dressed. Men and women looked beautiful. I was completely speechless until the bouncer said loudly, “Look who’s here!” – “Hola, Antonioooooo!” echoed through the room, all of them smiling in beautiful outfits. Some faces began to look familiar to me… yes, they were relatives of mine, and friends, yes that’s right, but all of them in their best moment of youth and happiness.

A particular face seemed especially familiar to me. It was a woman of astounding beauty who had just grabbed my left arm with a shinning smile. “María, is that you?” She nodded, and all I could think of is, “Thank you, Dara, my granddaughter, I owe it all to you. Hope you are happy in your life.”

(…the end…)

Transadaptation Volume 7 – Via Ellipsis – Continuation of Uncertainty, Instability and Extremes Transadapted

January: An Unexpected Trip Down Memory Lane – Sarah-Leah Pimentel (South Africa)

February: Blow-up – Veronika Groke (Austria)

March: Futuros Murguistas – Alejandra Baccino Uberti (Uruguay)

April: The Nomenclature Man – Paulius Limantas (Lithuania)

May: Amanecerá y veremos – Adriana Uribe (Colombia)

June: Finding Light in Yerevan – Armine Asryan (Armenia)

July: The Last Judgement – Nadia Silva Castro (Brazil)

August: Puzzled – a collaged nivola by and of perypatetik authors (International)

September: Second Steps – Jonay Quintero Hernandez (Spain)

October: New Normality – Svetlana Molchanova (Russia)

November: Beyond Comprehension – Rahaf Konbaz (Syria)

December: Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Worm? (Parts I and II) – Narantsogt (Natso) Baatarkhuu (Mongolia)

Background – Context

Transadaptation Volume 6: Meaning? – Uncertainty, Instability and Extremes Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2025)

Transadaptation Volume 5: Of Flowing Vicissitudes – Life Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2024)

Transadaptation Volume 4: Material Dissent – Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2023)

Transadaptation Volume 3: Evanescent – Young Adulthood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2022)

Transadaptation Volume 2: Conceived – Childhood Transadapted, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2021)

Transadaptation Volume 1: In the Middle – Prelude to a Contemporary Transadaptation, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2020)

Peripatetic Alterity: A Philosophical Treatise on the Spectrum of Being – Romantics and Pragmatists by Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)

La Syncrétion of Polarization and Extremes Transposée, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2019)

The Codex of Uncertainty Transposed, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2018)

L’anthologie of Global Instability Transpuesta, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2017)

From Wahnsinnig to the Loony Bin: German and Russian Stories Transposed to Modern-day America, (eds.) Angelika Friedrich, Yuri Smirnov and Henry Whittlesey (2013)

Emblems and stories on the international community

Perception by country – Transposing emblems, articles, short stories and reports from around the world

Credits

Background photo: Madrid, Spain – The subway – Diego Alexander (Unsplash)

Peripheral photos (clockwise from bottom left): 1. Taborno, Spain – Tucked away – Erick Morales Oyola (Unsplash); 2. Madrid, Spain – The building – Klaudia Borowiec (Unsplash); 3. Tenerife, Spain – Mountainside – Babi Kacharava (Unsplash); 4. Madrid, Spain – Veining – Klaudia Borowiec (Unsplash); 5. Madrid, Spain – Purple and red – Maria Lopez Jorge (Unsplash); 5. Taborno, Spain – Saffron – Erick Morales Oyola (Unsplash); 6. La Orotava, Spain – The countryside – Erick Morales Oyola (Unsplash); 7. Madrid, Spain – Bathed in light – Robin van der Wal (Unsplash); 8. La Gomera, Spain – Enmountained – Mike Workman (Shutterstock)