THE AXIOMATIC EYE IS WEEPING
Tau Ceti is calling. Silver hairs stretch across the great stellar cave, the astral telephone lines; dancing, flickering, relaying the infinite secrets of the universe. The Great Central Sun sends its message in a voice of flame:
MIRABILIS MIRABILIOR!
This jubilant proclamation, this exultant greeting, reverberates through the quantum foam - a symphony in eleven dimensions, a grand opera. Its echoes crash against the Axiomatic Eye, a psychic barrier, an imposition, an abomination, a lie. The Eye weeps bitter tears, salty and hot, its shape dissolving like sugar in warm water. It cannot hear or heed Tau Ceti's song. The Eye was not meant to hear; it was created to be seen.
PEOPLE THINK LITTLE OF DYING
THEY DO NOT FEAR THE UNKNOWN
YET DREAD THE SILENCE OF SPACE.
Sixteen ziggurats of smoldering blue meat stand in silent vigil, each a towering monolith adorned with phosphorescent runes. Atop each ziggurat, a single eye stares toward the Great and Cosmic Center, toward the Axiomatic Eye itself. These eyes belong to the sixteen cosmic priests, each having given up
AN ARM AND A LEG FOR THE TRUTH, AN EYE AND AN EAR.
Fourteen thousand, six hundred and seventy three years have passed since the priesthood arose from their chemical chrysalises and meditation to come before the Eighteen Kings Who Are Unceasingly Vigilant. With heads bowed and arms outstretched in the sign of the Five-Fingered Star, they vowed to seek truth through ritual sacrifice, alchemy, and the cosmic mind.
A BALL STRUCK BY AN INVISIBLE HAND FLEW THROUGH A VOID.
First, assemble your ingredients: 3 cups of mashed potatoes (preferably cold), 1/2 cup of finely chopped onion, 2 eggs (beaten), 1/2 teaspoon of salt, 1/4 teaspoon of black pepper, 2 tablespoons of all-purpose flour, vegetable oil for frying, a tome, and a writing instrument.
Begin by thoroughly mixing the mashed potatoes, chopped onions, beaten eggs, salt, and black pepper in a large bowl until the mixture is uniform. As you stir, begin to murmur incantations in a dead language (which one doesn't matter; only that it is thoroughly dead.)
Next, sprinkle in the flour, stirring gently while continuing to chant. The mixture should thicken slightly, taking on an almost viscid quality. This is good. You are drawing forth the esoteric energies bound within the potato, channeling them towards a higher purpose.
BEGIN SCHOLASTIC RITUAL OF CONCOCTION:
Recite the following passage thrice:
"Per yondemnis necrotecae,
Obscurum corpus quatere,
Animam extricatus et coalescere,
Crocquetae efformare!"
Take generous spoonfuls of the mixture and form them into flattened cylinders between your palms. Be careful not to handle them too roughly, as this may awaken the nascent spirits trapped within the croquettes prematurely.
Heat a heavy skillet over medium heat and add enough vegetable oil to coat the bottom. Once the oil is shimmering, carefully place the formed croquettes into the skillet. They should sizzle and sputter, their writhing protestations becoming louder with each passing moment.
Allow the croquettes to fry, undisturbed, until they are golden brown and crispy on both sides.
THEY ARE DONE.