r-daub-a-blog, November 11, 2006

Atop the tower a red light blinks like a slow heartbeat against a night nearly black but still blue, warning objects above to BEWARE!, there is something tall standing here that can cause considerable damage to your craft or being, as well as to the vital radio transmissions being launched into the universe.

The light is also a sign that there is life somewhere nearby, though it wouldn’t seem so at the moment. Down in the valley surrounded by range of hills poked with other blinking towers, all is quiet until the whir of tires upon asphalt and a blunt white light appears inside the scar of what is otherwise dense forest slope. The whir grows louder and seems eternal before finally peaking and fading into the valley where the people live, leaving a silence within which a faint something between a hum and a buzz that coincides with the blinking is now discernible.

At the base of the tower is a shack, and inside this shack sits another lonely soul speaking into black foam hoping in this dark hour when everything is alone that the red-and-white watt-blasting miniature Eiffel outside is stringing a connection to something in this pocket of cosmos, not realizing that a closer connection has already been made by the hypnotic red light on top, a connection that words or some other complex and confounding system of communication have absolutely nothing to do with… ▪