Original subtitles

Preparation for the journey.

There is no balance in the twilight of the gods.

I cannot foresee their departure.

A mist descends. Twelve horsemen charge through it.

There will be no rest tonight.

But in the morning, well, we have no afterthoughts of triumph.

All beasts are forgotten and the well has begun to fill again.

Hallelujah! Let the rejoicing begin, gods or no gods.

Seeing is believing, they say, but I'm not so sure.

Aren't there other prestidigitations to be considered?

That's all I will write for the moment.

Tomorrow is another day.

Rolling, rolling on the river.

Where it takes me, nobody knows.

Politely passing the towns it goes, and of course the wind blows.

The click and the clatter, the basking in time, the breezes came fully disposed

to separate the folds by which, in comparison to civil liberties, there

trailers available on Friday.

That occurrence put twelve nice pillows well beyond reach.

In that twelve -month period, Three things occurred.

I am not at liberty to disclose these occurrences.

Please be still. Your impatience is annoying.

We are all fools a great part of our lives. It is unavoidable.

No one believes in monkeys.

That has been proven.

You don't believe that no one believes in monkeys.

Look in the mirror.

The desist film was allocated to a friend of mine, and I appeared lighting

matches. There never was such a fool.

He doesn't rule Syria. He is captive of the fear machine. His brother

administers the fear, gives the orders.

Meanwhile, there are twelve spheres that breathe a reciprocal fluid not found in

the pale mechanics of revolution.

Conversely, Milton knew nothing of macro mechanics, though he did become

ingrained with mice and Madonnas.

Goodwill is as economically silent as Mercury or Venus.

Metrically, there are also twelve revealed platforms on which the Orioles

Radicalization of the vibraphone will always result in chocolate or perhaps

chocolate grinders. We cannot predict the next true appendectomy.

Those statistics will reveal exactly the opposite.

What will the moguls do when the world starts to come unraveled?

If you want to know about animation, you set up the scene, you get it in motion,

and then you do what's right, the same way you do with a poem.

Perfection in the landscape is presently achieved through the clear glass of

time. Some magnification is desirable.

Again, the twelve starters, called months, will come into play.

From there we take many tiny steps.

No primary resistance can be tolerated.

In forming us of the clouds that wither, they enfold the voluminous strictures

of sainted debiliments.

Far away, these same clouds are inhaled by wolves.

There were twelve of them.

Wolves, not clouds.

The covert abstractions had buried themselves.

Again, twelve levels below the clouds.

The synchronicity was probably due to the signs of the old as distinguished

the new zodiac.

The clouds, as seen from above, presented the aspect of a telegraph

This no way defined the balance of the lady tightrope walker, nor did the

billowing mound of Venus obfuscate the beard of Neptune.

Inside the heart of these clouds, I heard the song that termites sing in

blessing the atmosphere with billows of methane gas.

For remote distances, the whale watchers aligned their triceps to the aspen's

colored relationships between chimpanzees and electrical transformers.

Thereby, twelve rational turkeys were prohibited the sacramental

allotted to their bereft offspring.

Without the tremors of the volcano, the alchemist prepared a mirrored glass of

absinthe. Never under the hill can theorems arrive with post -meridian

Clouds trembling with hideous anticipation are overseen by elastic

vanilla cupidity.

Long -tailed birds pertain heavily to basalt ghosts.

Worldview Pekingese cats wearing dehydrated body armor weave in and out

own textural dilemmas.

Epidemiology forecast.

Episodes that were palpable.

began when the flock of ibis rose whirlingly in the lavish purple room.

There can be no ablution in regard to rhapsodies played on Exus and Groom's 75

-key washboards.

Without clouds, the trembling ladybug withdraws a mescalinized whisker into

ever -blue wasteland.

Without clouds, Georgia O 'Keeffe reflects only ever -present oranges.

Without clouds, twenty -seven apostles zigzagged before the elephantine bedbug.

Without clouds, only twelve drops of lemonade besmirched the face of Dante.

Worthy of the declamation inherent in aphorisms concerning dogs, no

consideration has been given to estuarial retribution. Therefore, it

said that William Jennings Bryant was particularly informed.

No wavering within the fabulous blossom resisted a top temperature of minus

twelve degrees of latitude.

Laughing across the countryside, Little Hen precipitates Trevile where 'er she

goes. Witless Child clogs drains with asthmatic roller skates, and Little Lion

Doll Hardy raises welts with happy burglar Sam.

The clouds do not smile.

They are magical acrobats, appearing and disappearing at unwilled intervals.

Nomads of unusual habit, strict in their formlessness, do not underestimate

their tenacity or their synchronicity. They are reminders that miracles are

everywhere. They are bellwethers of transformation.

Take them for granted at your peril.

Fox, frog, ram and egg, artichoke, binoculars, tram car, spoon and comb,

canisters of fog, fun -loving dogs and Aunt Katie's left hip.

These may be taken for granted by attentive acrobats, not of the cloud

Teleported from the blue matrix of tintinabulation, tiny paradontists march

perilously toward extinction.

Whereas in the tents of accretion where and whereas distinctions realized as

percentage of skylark infested twinkle toes, the weakness of air contributed to

total abnegation.

Trams run atop the emperor's head.

A worthiness of twilight enrolled within Aprilness, and a certain meanwhileness

trickled presumptuously along the chest of Richard's overture.

Prodigies, prodigies, prodigies. Human curiosities, compendiums of marvels,

humongous pillows of clouds.

In every accord unto libelous remedials, Jeremiah April canistered triple doses

of blue, yellow, and aquamarine defectives. WAN rabbits robbed Richard

red ricocheted rotundas twelve times.

Conferences of the birds revolved significantly without inclusion in

frustration. However, relative to apostasy, epiphany within limits will be

as experimental pickle -making.

Also, relative cloud expulsions, hand warmers vie with Joseph Kern's mistress.

Wither away, cried the scabbard of wild Bill Bixby. Jane answered a shrill

decibel in pink paraffin.

A wicked chemical blindness inhabited by blind bindings reduced in radical risks

became bleached by apple jelly.

Contamination of cats and rats.

Elfin determinants riddled with soft purple velvet raised twelve categories

synaptic cold fusion.

Ravishers of ridicule climbed entropic dilemmas wherewith Michelle belabored

apples prepared upon trellises.

Overly loud silks repose on well -filled pillows of sound.

Rapacious raviolis truly frightened Michelle.

Butter -ringing tint and abulation.

Limitless lines of lugubrious linguine poured precipitously upon melodious

waters while the clouds upheld godheads with purple teeth.

These same clouds wrinkled into small smiles of semi -inverse similitude.

Clouds penetrate willful lemurs and sky -born walruses reverse their courses.

Where bird illustration intersects the predestined octopus, waiting derelict

phantoms blossom indescribably.

Terrible turns of the wispy brown hairdresser reverberate within April's

equilibrium.

Although Hercules Pete wriggles free within the borders occluded twice,

no portrait of Sammy remains unevaporated, where Martine narrated

electric sonatinas yesterday while guiding rhyming metastases through

writing options, wherewith determinism dyed a resurrected diaper, included over

and under whitewashed triple tourniquets daily incorporated into rice pudding.

On that day, the clouds were separated by scrolls of aluminum fiberglass.

The harmony of woodblock music scripts depleted where the fluffs penetrated the

woodwork and held fifty tiny flags aloft, there to work mischief within the

halls of Olympus.

Rattle the infant pythoness.

Volumes swell with literate poultices.

Weary and devilish pharaonic warts will button themselves while simple mushroom

clouds parade before the king of toads.

Restless parallelograms, opportunistic porridge, twilight lifted by pothooks

cannot resist the lyrebird.

Orchestrations with spectacles remonstrate.

Warbling in fits, the lion -covered peach tree dispelled with immunity the

imitation plaster cloud.

Meanwhile, alleviation came wearily forward, pending small stains where

none had been.

Craving for villains began to fill the teardrops of Aberdeen Kolnitsky with

absolutely no conviction or continuity.

Intrepid walruses produced lace rotundas without fear of equilibrium or

ratiocination, doubtless because the gastric pleasures entombed under

Elizabeth's bed.

wobbled through the window and flew gallantly into the waiting arms of three

raven -colored clouds.

Cognition reciprocity prevailing, we Willy Winky claimed reasonable fire

religiously taut by waxing the floors of heaven.

Robbers watered Robert's white walls with holy sticks wrapped well around

The monthly capstan why world -wear whales waited in nonchalant lines.

Tremulous courtyards with inorgandy tripartite overtures ovulate

that purple cloud cover blanched into private rain.

Fortuitous fruitcakes declined dance where April persisted in overt wrinkles.

The clouds this morning, just after sunrise, were truly magnificent.

It is April, with much rain.

Under the billowing, streaming cloud masses, the world was exploding in green

chlorophyll.

I suppose there is also more CO2 in the air than there used to be.

Plants inhale it and breathe out oxygen.

More clouds, more water, more CO2.

Recloning the vibrant, terrible twisters, Oscar went through eight

three. But he, Oscar, omitted the stirring of 87 galaxies.

No more clouds today.

April 12th, 2012.

April 13th, 2012.

And belief in sophistry, where confusion between premise and ideology whittled

John's brain too much.