TNISAC part one

The Narrator Is Smoking A Cigarette part one

Welcome to dusk in Dancy-Land. Here the fence posts are flutes, the sky is full of cities living on clouds, and human voices have been replaced with instruments. Humanity has been reduced to villages and rubble on the surface due to forgotten reasons. Nearby, a group of angry citizens are conversing to the degree of headbanging in a circle. They are protesting something as it rains brass polish.
"We want B-Sharp for president, down with E-Minor!"
It was not a good day for a demonstration. Too much brass polish may cause intoxication and unwanted symphonies. Too little and the voices would become brittle and harsh, the citizens more agitated and hostile. However, drinking brass polish in correct amounts caused a major health boost and kept everyone's voice spic and span, and since their voices were intricately connected to their thoughts, their thoughts remained clear.
When a leader was selected in Dancy-Land a particular note would ring throughout the town for the four year period of office, his particular note would influence the thoughts of others, creating order, a kind of sonic anti-psychotic.
It was the notorious Citizen X, named after his killings, who had erased the previous president Citizen BB by giving him a brain tumor with the direction of a concentrated tune into his eardrum using an elegantly designed flute over time. He had posed as an entertainer for months playing the note and perspiring vigorously as he played the tune harder and harder. Eventually Citizen BB's brain had submitted.
"We demand freedom from the Bass Oligarchy!" the crowd screamed.
The Bass Oligarchy were a troupe of musical heretics hell-bent of reducing the frequency of all presidential emanations, their intent was to return society to the discordant anarchy of a low bass growl. They despised ordered tunes and would terrorize symphonies. The Bass Oligarchy was founded by Citizen X.
<Narrator pauses to catch his breath, lights a cigarette, coughs>
We now turn to the lives of the villagers to gain a greater understanding.

Just as sunset came Citizen H walked in to Citizen I's secret house, where they both gargled some brass polish and spun the yarn about their strange existence. Citizen H inhaled some cigarette smoke with a sharp trumpeting sound.
"I cannot conceive of a self, I can't be said to exist"
"Yes, we cannot show anything of ours to be a self"
"I can show my ownership of possessions, the basic building block of the modern Citizen's ego. He is his possessions, he says 'I exist because this is mine'"
"But he can show nothing more"
"Perhaps we can say it is common sense that under the possessions lies a self"
Citizen H took another drag and thought it out. The trumpeting was shorter, sharper.
"It seems like a self must exist because I have been told over and over again within the old system about just how important I am"
"Personally I just assumed I existed because it appeared to us that we all did as we went about what appeared proper daily business"
"I think I know what you're getting at; we inherited our lifestyles"
"Yes, we never looked at life directly, we just took the next step at the pace our parents and system set for us"
"And so its like what's real is what you've been told is real. Once your needs were satisfied, why would you argue?"
"But did we account for all our needs? Was it enough for us to be?"
Citizen H looked at the ruined skyscrapers in the distance outside the window and blew out some cigarette smoke to the side with a mocking squint in his eye.
But was it enough?, he wondered.
Citizen I looked down as a brief silence set between them.
The dying throes of objective reality fell out of the sun's mouth as the daylight gave way to the strangle of a post-apocalyptic night.
Citizen I looked up at Citizen H, still in his distant glare, or whatever it was.
"Best sentence to describe the sun right now?"
Citizen I grinned.
"Alright..."
He thought for a moment.
"Okay I've got it: a sinking dream filament in a pool of yellow sound."
Citizen H's eyes widened and he laughed out some disbelieving smoke.
"I think you've won already," resigned Citizen H.
Citizen I got off the crate and started pacing away, seemingly inspired now.
"And so if I have no self, then certainly no objects around me have any self, then what is there?"
"Nothing"
"And yet here we are"
"We must be beyond being"
"Everything must"
"So it's like it's all in a mind"
"That's the only way we could conceive of anything at all"
"Some divine mind"
"It's not what there is but who there is. Not reality but personality"
"And who's personality could there be?"
"A singular supreme entity"
"God."
"God..." Citizen I emphasised with a grin, looking away.
"What about death?"
"There's nothing now, there will be nothing then."
"It's kind of like this is the afterlife now, then. After all our souls are with us now"
"No, we are not bodies with souls, we are souls with bodies."
"I think I see what you mean; we are the soul, the body is just body, it has nothing to do with who we are."
Citizen I became bored, then looked down and twilded his thumbs in rapid motion.
"What are you doing?" asked Citizen H
"Having thumb fun," replied Citizen I.
Citizen H laughed.
<The Narrator is coughing again>