King's presence was absolutely crucial, as I find my standard mode of navigation is useless in the ci-tay. You see, I travel by intuition, like a dowser or Inigo Montoya. When I want to get somewhere, I begin walking in the direction that feels right. At some point, either I arrive there, or it stops feeling right, at which point I change tack and try again. As a method it is extremly innacurate but unfailingly precise... I find that if I keep on trucking, I get there eventually.
But of course, like all extremely inaccurate pursuits it functions properly only on small scale. In any vista roughly bigger than, say, Lake Wobegon, my sensors get all jimmied. Without a friendly guide, a Virgil to my Dante, I would be like a moth besotten by an incandescent light, wheeling in endless circles and crashing into things with my face. I'd be trapped in the city forever, and after years of hardship might end up like Zanta. Yes yes yes!
But, of course, such was not our fate. We were able to visit a series of libraries, delving into foreboding tomes and drinking deep from the eldrich secrets contained within. Of especial interest to me was one particular book, which pretty much sets the bar for foreboding tomes. I'm serious, this tome will forbad you right the frick out.
Guys, I think that zombie sunflower just winked at me.
So now I've got my books, and am home in one piece. It's time to start writing a thing about scary things. To those following, I'll be blogging on the bits of my essay that will coalesce over the next two weeks, a technique that I have come to lovingly term 'double-dipping.' BONUS FACT: When you Wikipedia Double Dip (sweet), you encounter this humdinger of a sentence:
"The Swizzel Stick that you can gather the sherbet has been described as one of the "best" sherbet sticks around by many critics of confectionery."
BAM. Take that, other swizzel sticks. The many critics of confectionary have spoken.
- Rook
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