Gravity does not exist

If your theory is correct, I strongly urge you NOT to bring a sample of Substantium to the surface of the earth, because it would upset the balance in the entire universe.(The least of your worries would probably be how to avoid being hit by just about everything in the vicinity that no longer falls to the centre of the earth, but straight at your backpack containing the Substantium.)

Resume of accomplishments of Parasomnium.

• (1962) Born.
• (1963-2005) Nothing.
• (2006) Still nothing.
• (2007) Theorized the fundamental principle of the splitting up of just about everything, but mainly marriages, churches and schools of thought.
• Recent addition: theorized that Substantium, when brought to the surface (in small amounts!), will spontaneously split into two new elements. One is called Transsubstantium, which will prove of enormous value in Catholic masses. The other element will spark a renewed interest in the healing powers of minerals, so I suggest we call it, partly in my honour, Paranormalium.

When do I start?

Good thing then that I decided against handing in another resume, on behalf of a fellow sperm who didn't make it in time. Wouln't have stood a chance, despite impressively accomplishing even less than me. If there's anything else I can not do, just let me know, I gladly won't do it. There's nothing I will do the get this position. Of course, no problem. Anything for an untarnished resume. Only, could we just keep the name Paranormalium? I've already thought of that. We are sitting on top of a massive clientele for the sale of Paranormalium. And my gut tells me we won't even have to produce the stuff, if we tell them it works through time and space, as long as it's been paid for.Let's get this show on the road!

"Mature" is what I'd say...

I think if we call it an "ovum" office opening, I think he might get in the right spirit and erm... plunge in, so to speak. Don't have to. If we tell them that if they pay now it will work through time, backwards from the future. By then we will have thought of a safe way to either: (A) bring Substantium to the surface, or: (B) flee with the cash before they discover the scam. (Of course we'll not tell them about plan B.)

OK, so I'm back from a meeting in the old town square of Splat. As you may well know, Splat is the capital city of the Former Yahooslavonian Republic Teknkollor-Vmit, or Vmit for short.I met a man who introduced himself as Naimsntym Brtánd, but he said I could call him Naims. Fighting the urge, I told him of our plan to start digging to the centre of the earth, to collect a sample of Substantium, and that we had chosen his country for a first attempt, because a local geological fluke would mean that we could dig our way through the sedimentary basin of Vmit in a relatively short time.He immediately became very enthusiastic and exclaimed to the passers-by, in one of the 397 Yahooslavonic languages, something that translates as: "This man, he very smart, he go dig in Vmit. He go try to find for sample substance. He say Vmit is good for digging because swimming-pool of Vmit is not full."To cut a long story short, he rallied a huge crowd of Vmitters and urged them to donate money for the project, which, he said, would put Vmit on the map. Some people asked him some questions, which he translated for me. He said they all wanted to know if there was a plan B. So I told him no, and to be sure, the good people of Splat started to pat their pockets to see if they had any money to spare.In the end Mr. Brtánd collected twenty three wheelbarrowfuls of Yahooslavonian money. We counted the money and came to a staggering 397,745,554,983,388,012.84 Pffrrts. At the current Pffrrt/USD exchange rate this means we had amassed about $0.67. So, as far far as funding is concerned, I'd say we are well on our way. Edited by Parasomnium, : spelling

It is my impression - but I could be mistaken - that if the value of the pffrrt falls, and this fall exceeds that of the US dollar, then the amount of pffrrts you have, expressed in US dollars, will be less than before. Either that, or the push and pull of Substantium through the relatively thin crust of Vmit has some very strange effects on the local economy and/or the meaning of the word 'inflation', something that perhaps merits an investigation of its own.Anyway, in my further dealings to secure funds, and to inhale the lovely smells of rural Vmit, I left the capital Splat for the countryside, driving a beautiful automobile, a locally produced and much appreciated "Bweeh". I rented this car from Mr. Brtánd's brother-in-law for the handsome - if cumbersome to write - price of 17.665.438.978.094.654,16 pffrrts, which, fortunately, can easily be paid out of the inflationary gain Kuresu mentioned. It is a happy fact that due to the special geological circumstances in this part of the world, having to do with the relative proximity of Substantium, a vehicle can simply be given a push to get it going, and one actually has to apply the brakes continuously to keep it from accelerating. To come to a full stop, one has to do a carefully timed 180^o handbrake turn. Although this means that fuel plays no role of significance in the country's economy, it gives the traffic here a bit of an awkward character, and has resulted in the roads of Vmit being covered with the actual stuff of almost the same name. It's a unique experience, shall we say.My travels took me to the hills of Ffárt province, where, I was advised, the locals have a centuries-old tradition of investing money in highly speculative and dubious enterprises. This tradition enables one to extract money from passers-by, simply by telling them a concocted story about an impossible scheme that may or may not return a small profit in the unforeseeable future. The tradition has it that the more implausible the story, the more money will be invested. Initially, my story about the mining of Substantium little impressed the locals, until I had the lucky brainwave to mention a possible plan B. The Ffárts, being of a different mental disposition than the inhabitants of Splat, reacted with a spurt of enthusiasm and instantly started to look for wheelbarrows. In short, another 249.569.224.767.298.331,36 pffrrts - about US$ 0,44 at the current exchange rate - has been added to our account.

Your concern is noted, but I can assure you that it is unnecessary. You see, since we are dealing with a local tradition here, and the people are very aware of it being a tradition, they do not for a moment believe the story I told them. This is exactly what makes them so very eager to invest. The less likely an investment is to return a profit, the more they will want to pour their money into it. It's tradition, and these people are really suckers for tradition.On top of that, Ffártsy is the one Yahooslavonian dialect, out of a total of 397, that has no grammatical form for telling lies. As they think that the only way the investment can be as risky as they would like it to be, per tradition, is for everything I told them to be a complete and utter lie, including everything about plan B, and since all Ffárts only speak Ffártsy, they will not be able to tell anyone about it. The very words "plan B" will not pass their lips, trust me.

Sir,I must protest. Mixing substantium with iron has no effect other than that the iron will want to separate from it as soon as this ill-conceived amalgam is formed. This is due to the Universal Principle Of The Splitting Up Of Everything, But Mainly Marriages, Churches, And Schools Of Thought, (U.P.O.T.S.U.O.E.B.M.M.C.A.S.O.T.) as everyone with even the slightest pinch of common sense knows. So, with all due respect (i.e. none), I must conclude that your suggesting this mix is no doubt due to the uncanny pseudomindlikenessity of the grindingly inefficient processing that takes place in whatever malfunctioning entity passes for your brain. In other words, sir, you need help.Yours politely,
The Self-Appointed Foreign Liaison Officer in the Former Yahooslavonian Republic of Teknkollor-Vmit,
Parasomnium, CUI, Leading Fund Raiser, Licensed Bweeh Driver. (Passed with flying colours. Literally)Edited by Parasomnium, : added quote and minor changes.

Thank you, I am very honoured.In the mean time, I submit a follow-up report which may have some serious repercussions for our enterprise. Please judge for yourself.The second-largest town of Ffárt province is Pfwpp. It was in this town that your correspondent did a rather alarming discovery. Still a bit weak in the stomach after a two hours drive in my rented Bweeh, I was in search of a pharmacy for some Alka-Seltzer or something. I chanced upon a small shop hugging the medieval cathedral that proudly adorns the old town square, with the sign "Apotk" on the outside. In the shop window I noticed a small vial that bore the obscure inscription The name Pavlov rang a bell of course (!), and the term "Prnomály" also sounded oddly familiar. So I entered the shop and inquired about the contents of this mysteriously labeled bottle. The proprietor of the shop told me that the bottle was the only thing that had been rescued from a fire that had destroyed the laboratory of a Russian scientist working in Pfwpp around the turn of the previous century. After the fire, the scientist departed from the town, together with a dog, leaving nothing behind but a trail of drool. They were never heard of again.When I asked the shop owner if he could tell me what "Prnomály" meant, the old man betrayed a passable knowledge of chemistry by divulging that it was the Vmitian name of the chemical element Paranormalium, something I had already suspected.With a shock I realized that if this bottle contained paranormalium, then this means that as early as some time around 1900 a certain quantity of substantium must already have been present at the surface of the earth, away from the main bulk at its centre. At present, I cannot fully comprehend the consequences of this discovery, but I'm thinking: Substantium and its gravitation-like effects, around 1900, the Wright Brothers' first motorized flight of 1903 (in a vehicle heavier than air!), Einsteins paradigm shift of 1905, & cetera, & cetera. Hence my report, which I hope will trigger a response from the experts.Yours truly,
Parasomnium, CUI, LFR, OND, & cetera.P.S.: The vial is in my possession. My interest in it provoked the shop owner to raise the price beyond the means available to me at that moment, so I took the liberty to pocket it when he didn't look. This means I may have to go into hiding for a while, but I expect this won't hamper my communications with you.

Sir,Although you may think yourself above dealing with me, I in turn think it is not beneath me to engage in polite conversation with you, in my capacity of Official Nut Dismisser. I may be temporarily indisposed to meet with you in person, on account of not having acquired Alka-Seltzer and, as a result of that, needing to stay within close range of a bucket, in addition to currently residing in a location which it is wise not to disclose, but I will not let that stand in the way of again protesting your ramblings in the gravest possible manner.Since most of your "argument" consists of mindless logorrheic verbiage, I will concentrate on your illustration containing a so-called Feynman diagram.There are two possibilities: either the substance in the lower left corner is real substantium, in which case you, or whoever made this picture, are acting in direct contravention of each and every ethical maxim regarding the handling of Dangerous Materials; or it is not, in which case your illustration proves absolutely nothing. Either way, you are in deep trouble, be it in an Abu Ghraib kind of way, or else in a less urgent, but equally shameful, logical way.So there.Yours politely (once again),
Parasomnium, OND, & cetera.Edited by Parasomnium, : spelling

If I were, I would not let you know, would I? But thanks for the compliment.Thomas R. Pync... fuck! Parasomnium.

First of all, let me reassure you: I am safe and in no danger. I am back in Splat. However, I am no longer in Vmit. Allow me to explain.When I left the "Apotk" in Pfwpp, with the vial in my pocket, I realized I had to get out of there quickly. Before long, the old shop keeper would notice that the vial was missing and would raise the alarm. So I walked straight back to the Bweeh, gave it a push, jumped in, and drove out of town.I headed back to Splat, from where I planned to drive to the border and get out of Vmit altogether. I switched on the radio in the hope of hearing some news. I don't understand any of Vmit's 397 languages very well, but when I heard the words "Bweeh" and "Vmitate" in one sentence, I knew enough: the Vmitate is the secret service of Vmit and they were after me. (You may wonder why it's called a secret service if their activities are broadcast on the radio, but this was a local Ffártsy radio station and if they were going to say anything about it, they couldn't make it a lie.)I took my foot off the brake and the car started to accelerate. Dangerously fast I sped along the roads of Vmit. I had nearly reached Splat when in my rear view mirror I saw a black car (why are they always black?) speeding up and overtaking other cars. It was the Vmitate. As I passed the municipal boundary, they were only 50 metres behind me. I took a left turn, a right turn, and then turned onto Regrgitás Avnj, the main road to the centre of Splat. When they were about to overtake me, I suddenly remembered something I had read about this road.About 20 metres ahead I saw an empty parking space on the left side of the road and I prepared for a 180^o handbrake turn. In between two oncoming lorries, I skidded across the road into the parking space and came to a screeching halt, with 10 centimetres to spare back and front. I breathed a sigh of relief because I knew I was safe.The black car sped past me, made a handbrake turn a bit further on, and came back towards me. They pulled over next to me and lowered the window. A man growled: "This time you escape, but we will get you some other time." Then, with screaming tires, they left.What I had read about Regrgitás Avnj was that the left side of it was actually a foreign enclave. You see, in the tumultuous split-up of the Federation of Yahooslavonia a few years earlier (completely in accordance with the U.P.O.T.S.U.O.E.B.M.M.C.A.S.O.T.), all kinds of groups and affiliations suddenly realized that what they really wanted was independence. It so happened that I had parked my car on the territory of the Independent Principality of Oddn, which consisted of the uneven numbered houses of Regrgitás Avnj. The newly installed head of state, prince Kaspar Broz, lived at number 1, although he also had some real estate abroad, at number 6, 6a, and 14. I decided to seek political asylum and walked to number 1.In the next episode I will tell you about my conversation with prince Kaspar, about a very fast elevator, a concrete door with the letters "M.T." on it, and the rivalry between the P.C.C.I. and the S.C.S.To be continued...