All language subtitles for Wax or the Discovery of Television Among the Bees [1991] - OK.RU

Our story so far.

Here in the triple zone of the revised
republic, it is after the end of our

previous program. And that is where we
speak the story of the story in the

of the language of that place.

Broken as it will be back then.

The telepathic motion picture of The
Lost Tribes is an astonishing new

telephonic science fiction television
movie series.

In every episode, stories of experiments
will be performed and their moving

conclusions given.

For this television show is the story of
the invention of the measurement of the

ever -changing and expanding story of
the unknown world of worlds.

And forgotten through the use of
instruments of the telepathic cinema.

Here in a movie that is a television
series.

With exciting episodes lined up from now
to the edge of the world.

For as of now, we and you and I are on
television.

As we have always been for the billions
of years before we were born.

Television that is alive.

where everything happens all at once, in
all the many places, in all the many

times, all at once, and never again.

26 years, 26 episodes per year, 26
minutes per

episode, 26 seconds per minute, all in
an alphabet of disappearing time,

lost among the traces of words that you
forget as we speak.

And so now, and then, let us battle
together alone, all at once, in the time

our hearts, through the uncubed time
-places of this telepathic movie

show, where in all those unrecorded
places, times, and episodes,

I and we are here to tell you the
inspiring and horrible story of an

vengeance, arriving...

all at once here from the future and the
future of the past, where you

have been warned.

And so, stay tuned now and forever for
the immense and astonishing telephonic

story of our today's world, where you
and I and everyone we love are

now lost in a world of reality made...

from a vengeance of worlds that we must
see and hear, to remember the unknown

thoughts of the words of a constantly
forgotten, ever -approaching, and ever

-invisible, indivisible, ethical
forgetting story of an ever -expanding

re -return episodes now approaching,
from various directions, along various

horizons of our infinite American time
zones, here on...

the telepathic motion picture of The
Lost Tribe.

Thank you.

In early 1914, a spiritualist
cinematographer from the Supernormal

Society of London joined the Royal
Expedition to the Antarctic.

His name was James Maker. He was also
known as Hivemaker.

James Hivemaker hoped to photograph
evidence of life after death.

The spring of 1915 found James Hivemaker
in France, where gas warfare had begun

at the Battle of Ypres.

Hivemaker photographed the Allied
reaction to the new threat.

Each day's batch of developed film
brought Hivemaker closer to his goal of

recording the moving spirits of the
dead.

The Supernormal Picture Society taught
that the dead lived near close.

But in an unknown world, this world
could be made visible to us by the

cinematographer who could see through
the haze of our world to the darkness

beyond.

To the supernormal cinematographer, the
ghost was a spiritual radium in decay.

which could stain photographic film.

It lived in the land of the dead.

Hivemaker wrote that he imagined this to
be a place of dense vegetation where

the souls of the dead lived in the form
of small floating lights.

Hivemaker believed that someday these
lights would swarm into our world to

the living.

In the summer of 1916, James Hivemaker
returned to his home and business, a bee

farm north of London, to supervise the
season's work and check on his hives.

A telegram had warned Hivemaker of a new
disease among the British black bees.

To forestall possible ruin, Hivemaker
hoped to purchase an experimental stock

specialty bees from Mesopotamia.

He had heard that these special bees
were both plague -proof and abundant

producers of an unusually clear honey.

If the experiment was successful, he
would replace his entire stock.

In London that summer, the telegraph
company had begun to modernize its

operation.

As a result, Ella Sparalem lost her job
as a telephone operator.

Ironically, Sparalem was herself an
electrical inventor who dreamed of

developing the means to transmit moving
pictures through the telephone.

Ella Sparalem was the half -sister of
James Hivemaker.

Through Hivemaker, Ella found work as a
photographic medium at the Supernormal

Picture Society.

Each Sunday, Ghosts would appear at a
seance in Tavistock Square to be

photographed with a living by Ella and
her special camera.

Often, the ghosts spoke to Ella.

One talkative ghost had died in an auto
accident.

This ghost was the dead wife of a
Hungarian -Egyptian gentleman who often

attended the seances.

This sad gentleman...

was the charming bee scientist Zoltan
Abbasid.

Ellis Sparalem discovered that Zoltan
Abbasid knew her half -brother, James

Hivemaker.

It was Zoltan Abbasid who had brought
the Mesopotamian bees to England.

Abbasid had discovered the bees near
Basra, in the south of Mesopotamia.

In the fall of 1916, the bee plague
struck Hivemaker's farm.

The British bees began to die, their
breathing tubes infested by parasite

Fortunately, the Mesopotamian bees
flourished and quickly took root

in the empty hives of the dead bees.

At that moment, a sudden love grew
between Elisperalum.

and Zoltan Abbasid.

The two were married in the early
winter.

For their honeymoon, Zoltan Abbasid took
his new wife to America to see the

Kabbalahs.

They stopped in Alamogordo, New Mexico.

I live in Alamogordo with my wife
Melissa, right on the edge of the Army's

Deseret Test Facility.

My name is Jacob Maker.

Hivemaker was my grandfather.

I inherited my bees from him.

I didn't keep them for the honey.

I just liked to watch them.

Melissa and I were related.

Ivemaker's half -fister, Alice Sparalem,
was Melissa's grandmother.

Melissa and I met here in Alamogordo
while we were working on the training

simulator for the shuttle.

When the project was finished, we got
married.

Melissa stayed on the shuttle as part of
the technical support group.

I was reassigned to another part of the
company.

We still went to work together.

But I'd felt uneasy ever since my
reassignment.

There was something in the air.

Maybe my eyes weren't very good.

That had to do with the job.

I spent a lot of time in front of the
screen at Frisch Flight Simulation,

on the side of the mountain above town.

I was assigned to military systems,
where we built weapons systems trainers,

making sure that everything was as real
as possible.

I didn't really understand what was
going on until the first time

it seemed to happen to me.

One afternoon, when I went out to the
backyard to open up my

hives.

When I was among my Mesopotamian bees, I
always thought about how things had

changed.

When my sight came back, I was closing
up the hive.

I'd gone someplace familiar, but I
couldn't remember where.

I must have spent several hours with the
bees.

When Melissa came out to talk, it was
almost time for dinner.

That evening, Melissa and I watched the
shuttle on television.

We

made

love that night for the last time.

I usually flew from the start of the
day.

My specific assignment was the Army's
integrated air battle mission simulator,

where several pilots could fly at once
over a common landscape the size of New

Jersey.

I was a programmer, in charge of writing
the code that controlled the simulation

of target acquisition.

It was up to me to make sure that the
gun sight displays worked.

The day after my strange experience at
the hive, a thought came to me in the

middle of an explosion.

I remembered another strange experience
with the bees.

Only the week before, I had gone out
after dinner.

As I opened the hive, I knew that
something was wrong.

There were voices inside the hive.

When I came to, I was watching the bees.

I realized that I didn't really
understand my job.

There were things I had to do, but I
didn't really know what they were.

So I went home early, leaving Melissa at
work.

Well, I discovered Pluto about 4 o
'clock in Mountain Standard Time on the

of February.

Pluto seemed to be the most logical
name.

See, most of the names of the
mythological data that's been given to

asteroids, there weren't very many good
ones left.

Of course, you may or may not realize
that the fish and boil element plutonium

was named plutonium because we named the
planet Pluto.

I was drawn to the bees.

I wanted to be in the dark again.

When the dark came, I was able to stay
awake.

I waited for something to change.

I began to travel.

I arrived at a patch of land hanging in
the darkness.

It resembled the place of my birth.

I was born on July 16th

1945, in the house of my dead
grandfather, a place known as the Garden

near Abilene, Kansas.

James Hivemaker left England in 1919 to
invent this place.

Concrete trees bordered the property.

Up in the concrete trees were the
concrete people.

On one side of the house were the twin
brothers, Cain the plowman, who had a

of fixed ideas, and his brother Abel.

When I was a child, Cain killed his
brother Abel.

After that, God put an X mark on Cain's
forehead.

in order to protect him from vengeance.

Whoever killed Cain would die 13 times.

I read this riddle in my grandfather's
diary, which I found in the library.

After that, I went for a walk.

I couldn't go beyond the perimeter of
the acre.

So I went indoors.

I watched the people in the trees.

And Cain, as he left for another planet.

I decided that I didn't want to
understand what had happened.

I went to bed just as the sun was
setting.

Melissa wasn't home yet.

The next day at work, I felt especially
sensitive to what was happening inside

the machines.

I could feel the weapons and the
targets.

Inside the targets, I could feel that
there were souls.

I was leaving my old self behind.

That afternoon, I could feel the
darkness around me.

I was on the edge of a journey.

That night, as I watched television,

It occurred to me that the soul of a
person could fragment and decay like

one of Hivemaker's ghosts.

I was lost

The

dead were in the

sky I

was their target

They wanted me.

I knew that my suit would protect me.

I didn't want to tell Melissa what was
happening to me.

I was glad for the everyday routine now,
but I knew that I would soon have to

make some sort of decision.

I separated from the ground

I

was

a weapon

Our battlefields were prepared for us by
the Defense Mapping Agency.

Every tape was a square of real
landscape.

I could feel those places.

There were people there.

To hit a simulated target was to
secretly prepare murder against the real

target.

Eventually there would be real ghosts.

I had to decide now.

I was on a mission.

I turned off the radar and headed
towards the moon.

The dead had attacked me.

Now I would attack them.

I was protected.

They wanted me dead.

But I was going to kill them before they
killed me.

I spent the night at a motel.

The next morning, I visited some friends
at the National Solar Observatory up in

the mountains.

We watched the clouds on television.

Then I went home.

I wasn't a killer.

I was a beekeeper.

There was only one way I could go.

I wanted to use the bees to go back to
the Garden of Eden.

The bees were

waiting for me.

They pierced the side of my head.

Through this hole they inserted a
mirrored crystal.

I had discovered television among the
bees.

Through the television I could read my
grandfather's diary at the Garden of

Eden.

Ellis Sparolum and Zoltan Abbasid
returned from New Mexico the next

Strangely, the Mesopotamian bees had
multiplied over the winter.

The hives were filled with their clear
honey.

James Hivemaker had never harvested so
early as that year.

The colonies were so crowded, that every
day there was a new swarming.

Hivemaker followed lines of Mesopotamian
bees away from the farm and found wild

colonies in the trees and caves of the
surrounding countryside.

That spring on the farm, Ellis Sprawlin
began work on an electrical device which

would allow the dead to travel to our
world.

She combined her brother's techniques of
ectoplasmic cinematography with her own

knowledge of electrical telephone
technique.

She called the device the electric
telescope.

Spinning disks scanned mourners left
behind by the dead, changing their

to sounds which were transmitted through
telephone wires.

The receiver changed the sound to moving
pictures of the dead, which could float

free and alive.

In the air.

Amidst all this activity, the bee
scientist Zoltan Abbasid conducted his

experiments on the Mesopotamian bees he
had provided hive makers.

I could see further through the
television, out to the Deseret test

Where weapons were flying through the
air.

They were killing each other.

It was up to me to kill someone.

That was where I had to go.

The X -shaped gun sight floated before
my eyes.

I was Cain.

That was my mark.

God would protect me from my victims.

Melissa called from work.

I told her that I was going out to the
Deseret test facility.

to look at the Army's implementation of
the Air Battle Mission Simulator.

I had no idea how long I would be gone.

The Deseret Test Facility was about 60
miles down the road through the desert.

Deseret was the main American testing
ground for guided as well as semi

-intelligent weapons.

The facility was slightly larger than
Rhode Island.

There was always haze around the main
post area.

That had reassured me right away.

This was a better place for me.

The Army was using my work to figure out
problems they were having with a vision

-guided missile system that they were
testing for one of their contractors.

I found the work disturbing.

I had the strong feeling that I should
go out to the range.

That I should be with the weapons.

I rented a small place in a trailer park
not far from Bays.

I started taking morning walks in the
desert.

All this time, the bee television was
active inside me.

I received pictures from the bees.

They showed me how weapons died every
day.

At the end of the day, every night in
the trailer park, the bees

told me about the new world.

where they had settled and formed a new
nation.

It was the land of the dead.

The V television showed me that place
where the radium souls of living

spirits split into innumerable pieces.

forming beautiful patterns that were
their new bodies, and at the

same time a language.

It was the language Cain had brought
with him when he fled the Garden of Uru.

The thought of this new world excited
me.

My walks became longer.

I often found myself 15 or 20 miles
downrange, still full of energy.

My favorite stopping place was the
launch site monument where the Army had

tested Nazi rockets.

On the B television, I could see that
this is where the moon, and the Earth

rejoined.

All around this place, semi -intelligent
weapons were trying to escape the

Earth, hoping for a new life elsewhere.

When I was away from the ground, the B
television became even clearer.

I could lose myself in the images and
become a weapon myself, rising through

air.

My destination was the moon.

That's where the dead live.

I always enjoyed visiting the moon.

The dead were always quiet until the
last moment when I started to leave.

That's when they spoke.

They spoke to me as bees.

They showed me a line.

that I would have to follow through the
darkness.

It led to a place hidden in the desert
where they were waiting for me.

I realized that I would have to follow
this beeline out to the test range.

That's where the weapons were.

They were leaving around the clock.

No one on base ever seemed to wonder
what happened to the missiles that never

came back after the launch.

But I knew that they had become flying
saucers, and that I could join them, if

wanted, and become one of them.

So it was, that carrying only the B
television and my own thoughts, that

I walked out to the desert.

As I walked, the BTV showed me the
sights of past or future explosions.

I walked for many hours, engrossed by
what I saw.

But eventually I awoke.

I was afraid.

I could see the dead, shaped like
letters of the alphabet.

They danced for me.

The BTV appeared among them.

I was traveling in the right direction.

I woke on my feet, heading north.

Less than an hour later, I came across
an unfinished mud building.

It

was

a library in progress for the Russian
Orthodox monks of St. Anthony.

I met Father Bitharion.

He told me that there were demons

in the desert.

Father Bessarian also told me that bees
lived in the historical marker at

Trinity site where the army had tested
the first plutonium bomb.

That was 40 miles to the north.

The next morning found me at White
Sands.

a great stretch of pulverized gypsum,
the main ingredient in wallboard.

Out of the haze, a giant floating light
appeared.

Its body was a poem written in the
language of Cain.

Here was a missile that had left the
earth and returned to touch me.

The desert became the past.

The dead marched across the sands to
reach me.

Their shadows crossed my face, and I
began to cry.

The sky opened.

I could see the darkness.

I wanted to take a picture.

But all I could do was dance.

That's when the bees arrived, riding on
broken fragments of time.

They flattened the sands and built a
room for me on stilts

so that I could be in the air when

the shuttle returned.

But I never saw it land.

I flew directly to the Garden of Eden,
where there was a message waiting for me

in my grandfather's diary.

It was written by the dead.

From the bed of my birth to the bed of
my death

and beyond, I would

have to travel with the bees to find the
person that I was meant to

kill on a planet inside the earth.

The Mesopotamian bees of my grandfather
were waiting for me on this planet.

They would show me my victim at the
moment of the kill.

At the end of the story, I was still

dead.

An angel arrived from the planet of life
to

take me back to the white sand.

The next day, I arrived at Trinity Side,
about 20 miles past White Sands.

There were camera bunkers still standing
from the famous test.

This was the birthplace of the plutonium
bomb.

The marker was my goal.

If there were bees, I was glad I had my
suit on.

On the BTV,

I could see myself.

I was approaching the marker.

I couldn't remember where this place
was.

I did know that once I had traveled
across the ocean to Basra

in Mesopotamia in order to find the
Tower of Babel.

I knew that I was from Alamogordo.

I realized that couldn't be more than 50
miles by car.

But I didn't know how I could ever get
back.

Except perhaps as a bomb.

I couldn't allow that to happen.

I had to call Melissa and warn her.

I dialed O for the operator, but got
ground zero instead.

Over and over.

I tried to make that call.

And then I remembered.

The bee TV showed me that I was at
Trinity site.

So that I would understand, the bees
showed me a little movie called The

of Eden Cave.

Starring me, Jacob Maker, as Fat Boy,
the first and

loneliest plutonium bomb.

I lived in a mad tower above Trinity
Side.

The day of my death, the other dead came
to visit me.

They said,

Little bomb, it is July 16th, 1945.

Now that you're gone, they'll make you a
marker, and the bees will come to live

here, and the flying saucers, so you
will know that through the

grace of God, the maker of people,

his son, the savior of the Christians,

and those bees who swarm through the
air, that though you are dead, you

were born.

Zoltan Abbasid, on July 11th, 1882.

This was true.

In my youth, I studied Volapük, rival of
Esperanto, the artificial language of

international peace, and reconstructed
the language of Cain spoken.

at the Tower of Babel.

In 1915, I, Zoltan Abbasid, traveled to
Basra in southern

Mesopotamia in search of remnants from
the Tower of Babel.

The British campaign in Mesopotamia had
recently climaxed with the surrender to

the Turks at Kut.

I traveled by aeroplane and boat against
the retreat

to arrive at the famous tomb of Ezra,

gatekeeper at the Garden of Eden.

I knew that here were hidden the
remnants of Babel.

I found native bees and British hives.

Bees that danced backwards.

I dissected the queen.

She was blind.

My guess was that these bees had come
from inside the earth.

When I had this thought, I saw pictures.

I saw a man I had never met.

He told me that these bees had come to
Basra through a cave

that led to the center of the earth
where there was a planet that

someday I would visit.

The Tower of Babel was there and the
bees lived inside it.

When the movie was over, I realized that
the world was surrounded by darkness.

That's because there was a cave the size
of midtown Manhattan hidden beneath the

New Mexican desert.

The bees were waiting for me there to
show me how to get to that planet and

my victim.

So I followed the pictures inside my
brain towards the dark place.

Beyond the desert, in the mountains,

I found the Garden of Eden cave.

There was only one way in.

I had reached the land of the dead.

I relaxed for a few moments.

Then I was ready.

I knew which way to go.

Into the darkness.

The first thing I noticed was the light.

The bees had illuminated the cave for
me.

The bees appeared on the TV.

speaking the language of Cain.

They were waiting for me.

They weren't directly visible to sight,
but I knew they were there.

The intricate stonework was their
honeycomb.

I saw myself on the television.

Then I saw the bees directly for the
first time.

They were thirty feet tall.

They sang for me.

I could see that the bees lived in the
darkness around this small, lit patch of

cave.

Our world was puny and finite in
comparison with theirs.

I understood them as little as the bees
understand the beekeeper.

That didn't discourage me.

I continued to walk through the cave, a
tourist in the land of the dead.

Each corner held a new amazement.

They had created a world where the dead
could live.

Each soul could have a square of land
and time.

Both qualities were fluid, the products
of powerful thought machines

that worked behind the scenes here,
powered by the raw energy

that the bees emitted.

It was a mechanism of astonishing
complexity.

All this tired me.

I slept in a dark corner, like a bee.

When the underground sun rose, I could
feel my destiny pressing in on me.

It was time for me to find out.

who I was going to kill.

Time ran forwards and backwards.

I emerged in a room as bright as noon,
covered with magnificent

honeycomb.

Hidden behind those walls, the bees were
hard at work, sculpting enormous wax

figurines, feminine forms, in which they
intended to

enter our world.

They promised me one of these bodies
after my death.

To earn it, I would have to enter their
world.

I drove through a tunnel and arrived at
a city.

In the city, there was a building.

In the building, there was a room.

On the wall of the room was a vibrating
bookshelf that held a crystalline book.

In the book was the story of the bees
told in secret words.

shaped from the bodies of the dead.

The story told me that here in the
Garden of Eden cave,

vengeance was being planned

for the dead.

I shut the book, left the building,

and got in my car for the long journey
home.

I knew I wouldn't be alone for long.

Once I had traveled into the darkness, I
was sure to be followed back.

That afternoon, out of the dark
machinery, one of the

dead of the future arrived.

It was grotesque with four brains on a
single body.

I felt that I recognized it.

I was afraid, but I was drawn towards
this thing.

I followed it deeper into the cave.

That's where I would find my victim.

It was almost time.

I used my programming skills to reshape
the cave into a shield.

From behind the shield, I would attack
with the mark of Cain.

My reverie was disturbed by the sound of
a telephone ringing in the cave.

It was the dead wife of Zoltan Abathid.

She was calling from the moon.

In the language of Cain, she told me
that a murder had been committed in the

past and that I would

kill again in Basra, southern
Mesopotamia.

As I spoke to her, I realized again that
I was Zoltan Abyssin.

I was already dead.

Yet I was still Jacob Maker.

So I already had my new body.

There was vengeance for the dead in this
cave.

They wanted me.

So I went into the darkness to hide.

an escort appeared to take me to asylum.

I followed it into the darkness, past
the

vengeance sign, to the graveyard where
words were born,

past this was a place guarded by the
oldest of the dead.

There,

The soul fragments of animals were
sharpened and organized into complicated

floating weapons.

Beyond was safety.

The puzzle planets shuffling in
perpetual confusion.

I went down to one which had a moon.

This was my secret planet of refuge.

I couldn't pronounce its name.

There, I was born again

as the X -shape.

a floating gun sight.

It was time to return.

I plunged into the center of a planet
and traveled towards the place

where my old self was standing.

The X -shape led, and my old self
followed, flying through the

darkness on the B television, that
miraculous shape given me by the bees,

and now being taken back by them.

Our destination was one of the infinite
planets of the future dead.

This one was still geologically active.

On it, cities were forming.

Each city birth was preceded by the
appearance of the Tower of Babel, a hive

words that articulated its streets and
avenues.

Office buildings and windowless
apartments that I flew

through like a daredevil on the way to
the religious center.

The temple of death where priests and
military planners

were deciding on the shape of the new
culture.

Each soul would have a home.

built on a floating patch of land.

Each house would have a certain number
of rooms, each with a chair.

Sometimes there would be a lamp or a
stairway for decoration.

There would always be a basement.

And in it would be the clock, the
entertainment center, controlling both

television and the bed, as well as the

toilet.

All of which suddenly reminded me that I

was dead.

I had fallen to the floor of the cave.

My death was relaxing and beautiful.

I certainly didn't want to waste very
much time on it.

I had other places to go.

The first place you stop after you've
died is the pulsating place, which is

designed to be familiar to people. We
used to have bodies.

There, I was reshaped in preparation for
transmission to my next body.

I became a short poem in the language of
Cain.

I would get my new body after I killed.

When the actual transmission began, the
X -shape was there for me.

There were new escorts also, sent from
the Temple of Death to watch me.

Together, we approached the final
journey.

Space and time opened like an elevator
to reveal a planet

that had vanished, leaving its weather
behind.

Here was the electric telescope, an
astronomical instrument of

planetary size.

I looked in one end of the tube.

and then the other, and started to
search for the missing planet.

I discovered the planet of television
four hours after my death.

I went down the other end of the tube.

This brought me just outside the planet.

Inside.

The television was at work.

I went closer to investigate this
marvel.

It was the closest I would ever get to
the eye of God.

When the television turned its gaze on
me,

For a few moments, I could see the world
as the deity did, divided into

different zones of transmission.

That was where I had to go.

My escort was still with me.

Together, we traveled into the
television and burst through to the path

future was about to be decided.

By the fall of 1917, James Hivemaker had
begun to hate his brother -in -law,

Zoltan Abbasid.

He had no specific reason other than a
desire to be the sole owner of the

Mesopotamian bees.

The bees were still multiplying.

Hivemaker formed the idea that these
bees were the dead of the future.

That theory alone, he decided, could
account for their awesome numbers.

Ella Sprawlum's machine had not
progressed.

Technical limitations had prevented her
from building a machine large enough to

scan an entire mourner or receive a
complete soul.

The night that I, Zoltan Abyssin, was
murdered, I had decided to reveal the

results of my experiments on the
Mesopotamian bees to my family.

A new variant of Ella's machine was
running in the garden, pointed at the

creating images from the sounds of the
bees.

This was the first time either I or my
bees had been in front of the device.

Strange patterns began to form at the
receiver.

A woman appeared on the screen, then
four women.

My dead wife was in the hives.

Her soul had fragmented and become many
separate bees.

She wanted to kill me.

She needed a new body.

My escort made a signal.

Multiple fences appeared on Ella's
receiver.

The bees swarmed to attack me.

I, Zoltan Abyssin, never wore protective
clothing when I worked with my bees.

The masses of the dead needed and had
arrived to murder me, each with the same

reason under a different name.

For they were the dead, and vengeance
was their life.

I was stung again and again.

When my breathing stopped, I saw James
Hivemaker standing over me in his suit.

Hivemaker always wore his suit.

That was the last thing I ever saw.

Now I was Kane.

The X shape was my mark.

Together, we traveled back.

through the planet of television, which
was transmitting the dead to the future.

Now I needed a new body, and to get it,
we would have to kill.

Those who had murdered Zoltan Abbasid
would be my victims.

Then I would be reborn.

I had seen God in the planet of
television and had faith that

this was true.

I became a shape of light, the poem that
I was.

I hid in a flower crystal on the B
television.

The X shape followed the path that my
enemies were fleeing along.

They were heading forward through time
back to Mesopotamia, which now

had a different name.

I followed my enemies through the B
television

to emerge in the air above

Basra.

Southern Iraq in the year 1991.

Now I was going to kill.

That was my job.

I spoke the code that changed the B
television into a weapon with the image

my special enemy engraved upon it.

I spun this projectile towards the one
who was waiting for me.

The X -shape followed to the kill.

Back in the darkness,

at the graveyard beyond the vengeance
sign, many new souls were born.

They danced on BTV.

This was victory.

I went back to the planet of the future
dead to celebrate.

When I entered the city, my former
escorts greeted me.

They'd had children.

Twins.

The X -shape had gone there to give
birth also.

On the BTV, many new bodies were on
display.

In fact, this world was twice as large
as it had been before.

There was twice as much time.

twice as many houses, and many more
useless things also.

That was it.

The end.

For the last time, I entered the BTV.

I traveled into the weapon boxes and let
my soul take on its true

form.

I am the X -shaped Siamese twins.

With a little bit of thought, I can
change my shape and have that body the

promised me in the cave.

We are Siamese twins at the beginning of
the world.

My family is here.

We're all attached.

That's me, Jacob Maker.

And next to me is me, Zoltan Abbasid.
We're on top.

On the bottom are the two Iraqis we
murdered in the tank.

They're our brothers now.

We can live anywhere on this planet that
we want to, but there's no place like

home.

We're going back to the Garden of Eden.

Or actually...

Where we went to live after we left the
Garden of Eden.

It's a beautiful day in Alamogordo.

I really enjoy my job.

I'm a woman now.

Actually, several women.

Our names are Alel and Zilla Lamek.

We're genetic researchers specializing
in the study of the shifting kernel

patterns that can be recorded across
generations of mutating corn.

My research is paid for.

By my dead grandfather, James Hivemaker,
who moved here from Kansas in the 40s

with his half -sister, Ella Sparalem.

He'd made a fortune in beekeeping, which
he let Ella invest in a flight

simulation company, the Tower of Babel,
right here in Alamogordo.

That's where my brothers work.

Right now, their specific assignment at
the Tower of Babel is one of Aunt Ella's

inventions.

A two -way television that lets them
talk to the dead.

On the television, the dead people have
promised that for the next thousand

years, we get to live in peace on this
new world.

I love my brothers.

And I believe that.

That's the power of love.

Our story so far.

Here in the triple zone of the Reviled
Republic, it is after the end of our

previous program.

And that is where we speak the story of
the story in the voice of the language

of that place, broken as it will be back
then.

The telepathic motion picture of

The Lost Tribes is an astonishing new
telephonic science fiction television

movie series.

In every episode, stories of experiments
will be performed and their moving

conclusions given.

For this television show is the story of
the invention of the measurement of the

ever -changing and expanding story of
the unknown worlds of worlds.

Old and forgotten through the use of
instruments of the telepathic cinema.

Here in a movie that is a television
series.

With exciting episodes lined up from
now.

the edge of the world.

For as of now, we and you and I are on
television,

as we have always been for the billions
of years before we were born.

Television that is alive, where
everything happens all at once, in all

places, and in all the many times, all
at once, and never again.

26 years.

26 episodes per year, 26 minutes per
episode, 26 seconds

per minute, all in an alphabet of
disappearing time, lost among the traces

words that you forget as we speak.

And so now and then, let us travel
together alone, all at once, in the time

our thoughts, through the uncubed...
time places of this telepathic movie

television show, where in all those
unrecorded places, times, and episodes,

I and we are here to tell you the
inspiring and horrible story of an

vengeance, arriving all at once here
from the future and the future

of the past, where you have been warned,
and so.

Stay tuned now and forever for the
immense and astonishing telephonic story

our today's world, where you and I and
everyone we love are now lost

in a world of reality, made from a
vengeance of world that we must see and

hear to remember the unknown thoughts of
the words of a constantly forgotten,

ever -approaching, An ever -invisible,
indivisible, ethical, forgetting story

an ever -expanding world of re -returned
episodes now approaching from various

directions along various horizons of our
infinite American time zones. Here

come the telepathic motion picture of
The Lost Tribe.