Manna-hata ~~~ Episode: ZERO
Long ago Manhattan was marked twice; as Manna-hata.
Let us say in this period and tale, we find the mirror over the ocean. And we shall call it as it once was as it is and isn't all the same. Manna-hata.
And in this land of Manna-hata, Kade runs from the infa-red and projected people, the bells of programming, the high pitch signals and mind-hackers erasing the memories of distinctive personality traits found despicable. But what would pepe-lepeu be without his tale? And how do you pronounce French words anyway. Being French would be better, maybe, but I'll take New York over it all. Over and throw the looking glass and into Manna-hata where our tale takes place. A grand central ride away from fair Verona.
The bells of silent (not so silent) echo today in the log of Kade. Finding oneselves reflecting the technology still not nearly as far as Tesla would have liked it. Why do you think he died in the New Yorker? What do you think he was looking for in that room? And what do you think has been developed since? The government had the technology for years and was broadcasting it out of Greenwich, Connecticut (where our dear President of current time finds himself in origin). But, all good things that flow into the Gold Coast come from the land of Manna-hata.
If you place a chip inside the skin you don't need GPS on the phone.
If you vibrate electrodes off keys you can send sensations into the skin. Pain makes running harder. Convince oneself silently that there's back pain that was never there. Implication and squirts of sexual juice make a wet dream more frequent than a controlled (although purposely repressed) individual might find. You can hide your glances from the blondes on the street, but Kade prefers to look them on. After all, one has to look at something. And thus as this log of Kade in the adventures of Manna-hatta begins, we find his attitude chipper and the level of fun never so high.
Strangers With Candy started a catch phrase for young Kade, "good times, good times".
Let us say in this period and tale, we find the mirror over the ocean. And we shall call it as it once was as it is and isn't all the same. Manna-hata.
And in this land of Manna-hata, Kade runs from the infa-red and projected people, the bells of programming, the high pitch signals and mind-hackers erasing the memories of distinctive personality traits found despicable. But what would pepe-lepeu be without his tale? And how do you pronounce French words anyway. Being French would be better, maybe, but I'll take New York over it all. Over and throw the looking glass and into Manna-hata where our tale takes place. A grand central ride away from fair Verona.
The bells of silent (not so silent) echo today in the log of Kade. Finding oneselves reflecting the technology still not nearly as far as Tesla would have liked it. Why do you think he died in the New Yorker? What do you think he was looking for in that room? And what do you think has been developed since? The government had the technology for years and was broadcasting it out of Greenwich, Connecticut (where our dear President of current time finds himself in origin). But, all good things that flow into the Gold Coast come from the land of Manna-hata.
If you place a chip inside the skin you don't need GPS on the phone.
If you vibrate electrodes off keys you can send sensations into the skin. Pain makes running harder. Convince oneself silently that there's back pain that was never there. Implication and squirts of sexual juice make a wet dream more frequent than a controlled (although purposely repressed) individual might find. You can hide your glances from the blondes on the street, but Kade prefers to look them on. After all, one has to look at something. And thus as this log of Kade in the adventures of Manna-hatta begins, we find his attitude chipper and the level of fun never so high.
Strangers With Candy started a catch phrase for young Kade, "good times, good times".
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