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Moscow, Idaho
June 17
Dear Joe:
I received your first communication today. It baffles me. Do you greet
me in the proper fringe-zone manner? No. Do you express joy, hope,
pride, helpfulness at my arrival? No. You ask me for a loan of five
bucks!
It took me some time, culling my information catalog to come up with
the correct variant of the slang term "buck." Is it possible that you
are powerless even to provide yourself with the wherewithal to live in
this inferior world?
A reminder, please. You and I--I in particular--are now engaged in
a struggle to free our world from the terrible, maiming intrusions
of this not-world. Through many long gleebs, our people have lived
a semi-terrorized existence while errant vibrations from this world
ripped across the closely joined vibration flux, whose individual
fluctuations make up our sentient population.
Even our eminent, all-high Frequency himself has often been jeopardized
by these people. The not-world and our world are like two baskets
as you and I see them in our present forms. Baskets woven with the
greatest intricacy, design and color; but baskets whose convex sides
are joined by a thin fringe of filaments. Our world, on the vibrational
plane, extends just a bit into this, the not-world. But being a world
of higher vibration, it is ultimately tenuous to these gross peoples.
While we vibrate only within a restricted plane because of our purer,
more stable existence, these people radiate widely into our world.
They even send what they call psychic reproductions of their own selves
into ours. And most infamous of all, they sometimes are able to force
some of our individuals over the fringe into their world temporarily,
causing them much agony and fright.
The latter atrocity is perpetrated through what these people call
mediums, spiritualists and other fatuous names. I intend to visit one
of them at the first opportunity to see for myself.
Meanwhile, as to you, I would offer a few words of advice. I picked
them up while examining the "slang" portion of my information catalog
which you unfortunately caused me to use. So, for the ultimate
cause--in this, the penultimate adventure, and for the glory and peace
of our world--shake a leg, bub. Straighten up and fly right. In short,
get hep.
As far as the five bucks is concerned, no dice.