(via http://dilzio.borrowed-scenery.org/)

Fri Oct 19, 2012 12:48am

As one of the moderators of the forum (and in my capacity as Chief Officer of Multiple Personalities), I am of course committed to keeping this forum free of ill-intentioned or inflammatory comments, trolling, spam, flame wars, and so forth. However, within reasonable parameters, I would also like to encourage freedom of speech and the frank expression of multiple viewpoints (and personalities) - which will inevitably sometimes be contradictory, incongruous, and even positively antagonistic to one another.

<partial-rant>The beauty of forums such as this is that we can agree to disagree, share our disagreements, and learn to live with the expression of ideas that are divergent or run at cross-purposes to our own. I am aware that there is a fine line that must be trod here, and if readers find a post that is genuinely offensive to them, there is always the “report” button with which to alert the admins. In sum, however, I think it's fair to say that all the moderators of this forum remain firmly in favour of freedom of expression, and our policy on censorship reflects this.</partial-rant>

Arrezenpholianz Culmendiabuz Officer of Multiple Personalities

Wed Oct 17, 2012 4:50pm

(Towards a vocabulary of taste of Lingua Ignota words)

Test subjects: humans, edible plants Moon Phase: Sturgeon Moon Conditions: partially electrified, damp, sunny

This was a cross-species edible language experiment conducted by myself and recorded by Mandrago long ago. He lost his lab notebook and so we are unable to determine which words came from plants and which from humans. I had hoped he would find it in the meantime, but unfortunately not.

Several months afterward, one test subject described the experiment like this:

There was this paper and stuff you could eat, and then all these strange words came out of our mouths. Do you have any more?

1. #1 slurbicious
2. #2 tadanculus smooi
3. #3 toothpaste, hosti, red
4. #4 olsynth
5. #5 xyzzyxxyzzyx
6. #6 tasty blood, chewing gum
7. #7 disappearing into nothing
8. #8 middle ages
9. #9 book with leaves of a citrus tree
10. #10 fireworks
11. #11 een kaderke
12. #12 drip drip drip drip drip drip
13. #13 middle ages
14. #14 thought
15. #15 pepper
16. #16 a field of mint leaves
17. #17 my first theft and guilt #18 Mmmmmmmmm
18. #19 mos
19. #20 blue and red, many angles

Wed Oct 17, 2012 10:31am

Amidst Ashton's howling hoots of amusement, the inspiring buzz of electricity, the plants and wires and circuit boards - nothing happened. Things just don't fuse together like they do in our reality; the magic glue connecting our herbal technologies doesn't stick. We're going to have to rely on our research assistants and their tireless work on plant-machine translation.

Fortunately this has just picked up momentum. The new assistant has already been mentioned. I'm mystified as to just what we'll find in the Snoepwinkel in a few days' time. Maybe the whole place will be glowing in blue, white and red light. Undoubtedly the place will be filled with electrodes and new fungal blooms. (The assistants themselves often behave like and resemble fungi; for this reason alone they are dear to our hearts.)