212 lines
8.6 KiB
Plaintext
212 lines
8.6 KiB
Plaintext
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### ###
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### #### ### ### ### ####
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########## ### ### ##########
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Underground eXperts United
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Presents...
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## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ##
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[ Listen Carefully ] [ By The GNN ]
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____________________________________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________
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"LISTEN CAREFULLY"
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by THE GNN/DualCrew/uXu
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"Let me see, said the blind man"
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(Charles Dickens)
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R. dropped the box again. Thankfully, the grass was quite soft here.
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"Watch out! Don't destroy it!", K. screamed.
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K. steadied his grip around the large box and started to walk again. The
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ten feet high and six feet wide box was not so heavy but a living hell to
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carry. Antennas and heavy microphones were in the way everywhere.
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"All the way up to the hill, my friend!", K. said in a jolly voice.
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One hour later they were at the top of the grassy hill. R. put the box
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down and took a large sigh of relief. He sat down and watched the view.
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He could see the car at the foot of the hill. Around it, wood. Green,
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fresh wood everywhere.
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"Paradise...", R. said with a low voice.
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"Yeah," K. said. "Not strange at all that he got all inspiration here!"
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Platon. K. had always loved Platon. Even if he died thousands of years
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ago, his incredible thoughts never got out of style. K. was a genius.
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But he never thought of himself as one. He started to read in his early
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childhood and the first books that he opened was philosophy with great
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men like Platon, Aristoteles, Kant and Zenon. He read the books with
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a burning desire to meet them. He wanted to discuss the world with them.
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This was unfortunately impossible, since K. lived in the year 1992 and
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all the great men were dead. Advanced electronics captured his interest in
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his youth, but he never forgot about the ancient theories about the world.
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Now he was sitting here. R. had helped him to carry his machine all the
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way up to the hill. This was the place where Platon had gotten his ideas
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according to many books. When K. one day read that Platon used to talk
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to himself loud about his ideas, before writing them down, he got an idea.
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Everything is eternal. Nothing can disappear. You can not cut an object
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into nothing. You just cut it in half half half half half half half...
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What about sounds? Sounds must be forever!
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We breathe and sometimes we produce a sound. A word. A sentence. The
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waves run from our mouth and out in the large air. The sound is harder
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to hear on a distance, since the waves get thinner and thinner.
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But they can never disappear. You just had to produce a machine that could
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catch and increase the volume of small sounds. Sounds, so small that you
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couldn't believe it. Sounds, that were produced thousands of years ago.
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Sounds, from Platon.
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"Why do you want to hear Platon?", R. suddenly asked.
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"Maybe because he was the greatest, and maybe because this place
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is perfect for catching old sounds.", K. replied.
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This was sure a perfect place. Far away from modern "civilization" with
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hard and cold noise. Even when Platon lived, there must have been irritating
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sounds everywhere. That was probably the solution to why he walked several
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miles to get to this silent and beautiful hill. To think. To understand.
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And now, K. wanted to understand. He just didn't exactly know what...
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"Let's go to work!", K. said.
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They begun to operate the machine. Small and big microphones was placed
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at different places around the box. K. turned the switch on, and sounds
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begun to flow into his ears from a couple of headphones.
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"Finetune it!", he shouted to R. on the other side of the box.
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The box was completely silent. A small hum could be heard from it, but
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that was all. R. connected his portable computer to the box and started
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to tune the sensitive microphones to smaller and smaller sounds. Bypassing
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birds on the blue sky watched the two men with a laugh.
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"It is finetuned to...the right time!"
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K. listened. He couldn't hear anything. Just as he expected.
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"Nothing here! Tune it six more hours!"
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R. pushed some buttons on his computer. K. listened again. Still,
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everything was silent. He could hear some birds sing, dead since hundreds
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of years, but that was not what he wanted to hear. He wanted to
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hear the voice of Platon.
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"Damn!", K. shouted. "Tune it one more hour!"
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Steps. Finally! K. heard someone walking towards the place. The steps
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suddenly stopped. Someone breathed heavily. Silence. And then...someone
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talked. Ancient words came through the phones.
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"It's him! I know it's him!"
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R. connected another set of phones to his side of the box.
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"Yep. It's him.", R. said even if he didn't understand a word of it. He
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hadn't got the education K. had about old languages.
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They listened to him for several minutes. A cassette recorder inside the
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box taped everything.
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"Hey!", K. screamed. "Did you hear that?"
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"Well, uhm, maybe. What?", R. replied.
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K.'s voice suddenly got very excited.
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"He said something about why he sat here all the time!"
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R. was about to make an unnecessary comment when K. stopped him.
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"Oh Lord! He may be right! Who knows?"
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K. spoke very fast. R. hadn't got the slightest idea what K. could have
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heard but it was better to pretend than look like a moron.
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"R.! How many years can you tune the machine back with the computer?"
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R. tapped on the keyboard.
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"Probably around...I don't know. Eternal I guess.", R. said.
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K.'s eyes opened wide. He stared into the sky. Then he quickly walked
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to R. on the other side of the box.
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"Tune it as many years you can! Billions of billions of billions of years!"
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It took over an hour before the computer declared that he was not going
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to go a single zero more. The machine had been tuned to catch sounds made
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even before the big bang.
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"Why?", R. asked. "Why this?"
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"Because...I think I heard Platon say something."
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A painful silence occurred. R. couldn't stand it.
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"Yes? He said...what?"
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K. looked upon the sky again. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
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R. was about to give up on getting answers when he said:
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"Platon said...that this was a place that all great thinkers had visited.
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He said that...all great thinkers are sucked to this place. Everybody can't
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make it because everybody can't travel to this place. He was very lucky
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to be born here. Look at us! We are here!"
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Silence again. R. was about to ask how the hell Platon could know
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something like that but he never got the chance to open his mouth.
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"Even...", K. continued. "Even the creator of the universe had been sitting
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here! It was from this place he created the universe! When he was ready, he
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made the earth, like a statue over his great creation!"
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R. begun to sweat.
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"Did he mean...God?"
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"No!", K. said in an angry voice. "Something...else...and he said that
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the creator had been sitting here for billions of years! We just...can't...
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miss...him! Come on! Go!"
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They turned on the machine. They listened. A voice was perfectly
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clear to them. Even if it didn't speak any known language they understood
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every word of it. Hours passed. When night came, they still listened.
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They listened until dawn. When the sun begun to rise, K. took of his phones.
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They looked at each other.
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"So that was the meaning of life?", R. said sadly.
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K. didn't answer. They didn't even bother to bring the box with them
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when they slowly walked down the hill.
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/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////
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Call THE STASH - Home of Underground eXperts United +46-13175042
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______________________________________________________________________
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______________________________________________________________________
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