THE DANDELION KNIGHT: A brief history of nudibranchs

The fat man puffed out his chest with a deep breath through his nose, seeming to filter it through the thicket of bristly grey on his upper lip. “Ours is the oldest science and noblest,” he said, choosing his words with a palpable savor, “because the stars and planets were the first observable things governed by mathematics. Painstaking measurement and calculation over decades, building on itself over centuries, adduced the dance-card of the heavens — nothing but eye and ink, Faroard, and the engines behind the eye, tracing out arcs that take lifetimes in the wandering, to a precision of which these noisome machines soil their casings at the thought of dreaming. So you must understand that, when I observe that your puling amounts to a trickle of liquid beet-shit on the graves of men who dwarf you as a galaxy does a flea’s sperm, it is only because I am an old man and the balance of my poetry has leaked from my heart and into the reeking ears of five decades of warbling nudibranchs like yourself. Otherwise I would craft a response more precisely evocative of your feculence.”


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