I must say that the result of this and other messages was that I was shunted to
a mental facility. I have thought about various ways to "hide the truth" from my
family, and I'm just not going to. They can just lock me up again, unnecessarily.
And had to endure anger of a different sort. Now, I present it here.
The "genius" part -- I am quite embarrassed about, I have a very good
kind of genius, but none of it would have been possible without the help -- of my friends.
And I must say, I DO NOT: Believe in Area 51, Big Foot, alien abduction, alien
anal probes, alien UFO sightings of any sort, The Loch Ness Monster, and on
on and on...I just do not. But this one thing. I just do. And I no longer believe
in any sort of God.
It is with heavy, heavy heart that I work on this long document,
because as I type this, more people simply die, but I have to make
my words sound as measured and logical as possible.
I, Mark Quinn, on this thirteenth day of May, in the year 2009,
have been directed to tell you from those residing in an alien vessel
far above us, somewhere in our solar system now,
that this "thirteenth" day is probably the luckiest day of many
of the folks down here on this planet, this Wednesday, for most of us.
I have finally been directed to tell you this -- and I encourage you
to spread this e-mail to anyone you can -- by an intelligence residing
in either ultrasentient beings of some type, or advanced computers in
the vessel residing somewhere far above us in our own solar system,
as I type this message:
Many, many years ago, alien contact was achieved. At 2318
Martin Road in Mogadore, Ohio, outside a small city in Ohio known
as "Akron".
Mark Alvin Quinn, then a small child, begged us to come and save
your world. We decided, at that time, to comply with his wishes
and save you.
We immediately sent a vessel out towards your solar system. It
took a very, very long time to cross such vast distances since that
child, now Mark Quinn, now 50 years old, now residing in a house
at 1060 Tonawanda Avenue and typing this on his small IBM clone
computer system, but now that vessel is somewhere above you in
your solar system now. Our only wish is to comply with his wishes
to help you. We have already done a great deal to help his life,
and we would like to help you more. Please provide as little
impediment as possible to Mr. Quinn's life from now on as is humanly
possible, for he has already helped you to such an extent that we
continue to wonder how you dare, given the clues he has already
given those of you, can even look at yourselves in the mirror now for
stopping his desire to make your lives better. The woman downstairs
now, a Ms. Alice Amore, has provided Mr. Quinn with much sorrow
during his stay here at this house, though his only wish is to HELP her,
but she keeps impeding him in his desire to help all of you, and she is
of constant hindrance to his work to do so. We are totally controlling
what Mr. Quinn types at this moment in time,
and we simply are tired of Mr. Quinn's efforts being hampered in any
way by any of you who read this message. We have already done a lot
to help you people, but we are growing very weary at seeing Mr. Quinn
being stopped, ridiculed, made fun of, subjected to visits by police
or other authorities of your people.
For, last Sunday evening on May 10, 2009, we arrived, and the chaos
inherent in most cognizant thought down there on planet Earth was
removed by a race of beings known as "The Consonance".
Alien contact has been achieved. It is done.
Now, as Mark Quinn, since I have written this for my friends up there,
given their love and guidance, let me give you some background:
They have been on their way for many years now. On Monday, May
tenth, that contact, that occurred when my young mind begged them
to save our world from its own poverty,
despair, hunger, and violence, and madness, they saw my love for
all this world, took great, great pity on me, and their ship is now in
orbit above far above us somewhere in our solar system now.
I also experienced such mental anguish recently that, when an attempt
was made to rip me away from here to a mental clinic, an alien ship far
above Earth quickly intervened, and further adjusted me mentally, and
now I am completely free of fear I will be stopped ... from saving all of
you. If you rip me away from here in a police car, I will just calmly wait
until I can start my work again, after I get out of jail, a mental clinic --
wherever the car goes. And more people -- will die.
Forever.
I was so upset by efforts to rip me from this home, at 1060 Tonawanda
Avenue in Akron, Ohio, to stop my work, that I began to cry, and now,
nothing you do will ever upset me again. The Consonance moved into
my mind and heart, and now, whatever steps you perform against me, will meaning nothing to me mentally at all.
And ... I am not "crazy".
I am not some "nut on the Internet".
They FREED all of my mind. That was one of my wishes. I used to be
mentally ill, too, and they did that for me. They also expanded my mind,
and made me a better musician and composer. There is NO need for "help" anywhere within those disciplines, or in any facet of my mental condition.
This process simply cannot be ceased. Most of the preliminary work,
of freeing your minds, was already done. In a matter of seconds,
last Sunday evening, as they directed me near a small school on
State Rd., near Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, where I played guitar for
a group of children, and teenagers, in my small car. Even if they decide
not to fulfill the rest of their promises to me, they have simply ... already ...
freed us. To a great, great, extent, at my wishes for you.
(Now? Not so much.)
Some of the people on this planet, those who wish to, will simply accompany
us and go. The others, will die forever in the interim, or stay behind, and
may exist here on this world. The longer you impede their desires, the more
of you will die forever and won't be able to live her forever, or join us out
in space.
I have no idea how long this process will take. They have not told me all
the details. It will be a long process, and we cannot save those who die,
but the smoother the process, obviously, the more of us will be able to go.
I just don't know what their plans involve at all, really. I have absolutely no idea
WHAT they will do, or WHEN they will do it. They may have decided NEVER
to do it. But I know that they told me at one time, they absolutely would,
because I know they did. They came into my mind as their ship was somewhere
near the Earth, and informed of this. It is totally their decision
when the whole process of saving those of us who are left alive down
here while it takes place begins, and it is up to you and them how successful
it will be for our little world.
All I know is, the ones who leave with us, if they follow through on that
promise, will lead existences that make our every filmed or written
adventure about experiences in outer space look meager by comparison.
And, even if they change their minds? Well, the whole of Earth's history
will be dramatically improved by what happened when they removed
most of the chaos from our thoughts last Sunday. They have already
done most of the work of saving our society down here in ONE application of their technologies. That's all I know.
And, as for the rest? All I have is their promise. They assured me of this
while I was watching the new Star Trek movie in glowing terms,
as they told me I had loved the world so much that I had saved
many here, and as I understood these things and their glowing words
swept through my mind, my eyes filled with tears and my head
began to sink. I felt such tremendous joy at this time, mixed with
tremendous sorrow, positively filled with tears of joy, and my brown
shirt began to dissolve into tears, I was so happy, and very humble,
and appreciative, and what they had done for me, and for all of you,
and now they, after a recent attempt to, again, "fix my mental state"
have recently given me release from many of my sorrows.
If you put in pills and injections into me now? They recently gave me
a "mood stabilizer" that caused the same AWFUL effects
in one dose I had been hampered under for many years in ONE PILL.
This was done locally at a clinic called "CSS" at Wolf Ledges street
near Thornton Street, near the center of Akron, Ohio. They took me
on many trips down to this clinic, over many hours, completely
unnecessarily, and gave me many pills and injections for my "schizo-
affectivity" (which I had formally suffered under and was now
totally gone) problem, after these beings totally
cured it. They wiped all mental disease away from me months
ago when I asked them to.
It is that simple, and it is your choice to make for each one of you
to decide upon.
The longer you take to think it over, or impede this plan they have,
the harder it will be for them to implement their desire to facilitate
MY desire to make some of my people into spacefarers, or allow
those remaining behind to live longer lives, and allow those who are
spacefarers to explore outer space.
All this happened because of MY desire to make my planet, planet Earth,
into a better place for all of us to live, and my desire to see us expand
outwards into space. That is simply the whole of it.
And there will be no "mental help" for them. You need feel no "fear"
of them either. At all. They feel LOVE as NO ONE OF YOU EVER could.
They will never harm ANY of us. They will never harm any of us at all.
They are only here above all our governments down here to help us.
There is no need to "protect the Earth" from their ship, and you cannot
touch it with any weapon you have here. You see? They already have
HELPED us. GREATLY. Because of me, grace burns throughout our world
now. It is all because I begged them to help you all. People burn with new
civility now, regardless of what ANY of you may think or believe, and things proceed down on this planet more intelligently and civilly because long
ago, since they turned their devices towards the Earth and started the
process by which chaotic impulses were removed from our thought waves
last Sunday Evening, and they simply ... they allowed then, EVERY
CREATURE on this world to think better and
lead better lives out of their concern for me ... and my love for you,
my love of science-fiction, and desire to help all of us.
If you send ANYTHING, if you sent all your missiles up
to it, it would just simply either neutralize all of them are avoid them completely, and it would have to move away temporarily, even if
any of them exploded.
This vessel was constructed by a group of alien beings built be
seven of the most advanced races of all recorded time. Ever. Of any
universe. Ever.
It waits somewhere in the solar system now above us all as I type
this e-mail message, then prepare to post this on my Blog, "A Blog's Life"
where my Blog is here on Blogger on the Worldwide Web.
If a murderer comes to this house and kills me? Then, the one man
who loved has planet enough to try to save some of its peoples will
die, and I just have no idea what The Consonance would do. I don't.
I don't think they'd ever let you do that, really. They can stop you
from doing about anything to me, anything at all, if they want to now.
After all...
I suppose, if you're a big hindrance to me, they could just rip me out,
and I would go with them. I just don't know...I don't know what I'd do
out there alone, though, you know? I'd like a few of my good friends down
here to be ... you know ... out there with me when the Earth recedes
behind the ship?
So, why try? Anything you send against that ship, the ship
will simply either destroy or neutralize or avoid, And, they are simply
far beyond our very best qualities, really.
They are the highest expression of all our best qualities. Love? You
have not felt it as they do. Loyalty? Compassion? They feel it on a
grander scale than any of us ever could. They simply wonder why I
have been stopped from helping all of you ... free your own planet.
They feel no real anger. They just sit up there
and look down and wonder ... "why" is Mark Quinn's name not put
anywhere for removing most of the chaotic thinking down there from
all or most of your minds this last Sunday evening on the tenth of May?
"Why" does Alice Amore or any of the other people he contacts, now in
e-mail not help him facilitate this process and keep more from dying
down here? "Why" do they not respond to his e-mails?
When the great ship began to slowly adjust its vectors here around our fine planet in orbit about our majestic world "Earth" and the traffic patterns
quickly adjusted adjusted as this wave from their ship blasted across the face our world and removed the final hints of chaos from raping most of our
minds, this race simply did not now what was down here waiting for
them to discover.
Each concept this incredibly advanced, fine, fine race, this
collection of seven incredibly-advanced races near the center
of our universe was beamed to me, down there in our home on
2381 Martin Rd. in Mogadore Ohio. Alien contact was achieved
there. At this house that stands there now
on that road, at 2318 Martin Rd. alien contact -- was achieved.
I achieved it.
As my brother Edward vaulted me up to his telescope and Saturn
burned there in the viewfinder, I swept my gaze at that ringed
planet and hurled it to be made eternal against
the backdrop of the heavens.
After they noticed me out here, burning with desire to save our
world, they turned one of their starships back towards our Earth
to facilitate my wishes, and begin alien contact with all of you, and
save the entire earth from destruction.
And my entire family never knew this. It burned within me. I
hoped beyond great hope, as I watched VHS tapes like "ET" and
"Contact" and all our other fine movies burn in stores
around me, I walked with heavy heart often as I thought they
wouldn't make it here. I kept beaming at them with my heart
... come ... come ... come. Come out here and find us.
Come ... come to our small star system out here at the edge
of the Milky Way.
They have come.
They are here, now. They have finally come.
I decoded the secrets of electricity, some of them, while
walking through a Wal*Mart, or other discount store, long ago, and
they watched all I was doing, and came back and hurled us at the
stars, and watched me and watched me burn among you all
down here.
Below them, last Sunday evening, as they began to enter my
mind and direct me to drop my former religious beliefs, my car
moved around on the streets of Akron, Ohio, and I did things like
play guitar in a small playground while children laughed and held
hands there around me.
Then, they turned their machines onto the Earth, and the chaos
inherent in the thinking of higher and lower animals was almost
totally wiped away.
Then, as I was driving, and these waves hit the Earth, I turned on
the radio, and gasped as I moved between the radio stations and the
radio channels immediately began to shine with civility.
That Sunday evening? Announcers were nice. Always nice. Most fear
had been wiped away. Earth was a nice place to live.
(Now? Not so much. Anger.)
The following day on Monday afternoon, at a movie, I walked into
the theater, and the entire transaction from leaving the theater,
burned with civility. It was the best movie experience of any big
movie I had seen. In a small theater in Kent, Ohio.
From the way the movie was projected, and the audience in the
movie house, calmly passed electronic devices around, enjoying
their capabilities, around me as I watched them all.
I and The Consonance's efforts enabled all this to happen for you.
Animals calmed down. Dogs moved with new grace. Policemen stopped
harassing people as much as they did.
They intend to take me back there on Wednesday to give me another
injection of an atypical anti-psychotic that I simply do not need to take.
At all. If they give it to me, it will only serve to mess up what The
Consonance did to my mind, temporarily, and impede my efforts at
saving you all, and more people will die because of this, because The Consonance will be impeded from its efforts because more time will
be wasted in all the hours I am down at that clinic, and since it has
no major effects, it will simply be another waste of my valuable time
here. If that car arrives here, and my social worker and I get in it?
More of you will be dead not to live longer lives. If I have to move
out of here, and find a new place to live and have to stop my work
here in the interim?
More people dead. I would really, really like to be left alone here
at Tonawanda now to continue my work here! You know? All my
family may come at ANY time to visit me. They? I certainly will allow.
Anyone else who wishes to with good intent, as well, but this is a small
house.
ANYTHING that distracts me in a bad way, or even a very good way for a long
while? More and more dead people, deprived of a chance to go on living.
ANY ACTION taking against that ship, somewhere above us? Same thing.
You will simply be killing more people down here.
They recently gave me an awful drug, a mood elevator similar in class
to "Depakote," a drug I took yeas ago. More people dead.
I quickly just burned with that awful feeling, which I suffered under,
and bought electronic devices to seek release from years ago when I
lived in Concord, New Hampshire, due to heightened levels of ammonia
in my brain, and this produced feelings of mania, which cause me to
seek love and affection, and acted inappropriately other ways. When
they gave me that pill, before the Consonance arrived...Well, for six or
so hours, I was in Pharmaceutical Hell again, as I had been with Depakote
for years, but that pill finally wore off, and my Consonance-enhanced
mind was left alone...again. Largely through my efforts, the attempt
to get me to a mental clinic by two policemen and an ambulance showing
up here, was just ripped down to nothing, and now I sit up here in comfort saying that my mind is now free of any mental
difficulties. At all.
A nurse sat downstairs in the living room down there,called an
ambulance, and they tried to get me down to a mental clinic, while
above our world, a ship full of alien beings had to help me stop this from happening down here. They guided my mind to get these policemen
my old partner, Alice Amore, and her social worker called to get me
"mental help" for my problem -- of trying to save the world.
As I sent e-mails last night, with plans to boost members of my family TO EXTREME LEVELS of INTELLECT, to positions in a team of humans carried
by Consonace starships outwards to transport those of us who with to
leave the Earth into outer space ... I assume they all consider me
completely insane, drunk with egotism and power.
It matters not to me what they now think. The Consonance will assure
that I am protected at all times. Their nervousness doesn't matter to
my plans here, at all. The Consonance will totally direct this. Their
nervousness or plans directed at me matter little to a race of their
achievement in the UNIVERSE! Do these little beings, plotting
around me to send me off to quacks at local mental clinics dare
think they can stop The Consonance, who have a damned space
ship sitting up in ORBIT now about our planet, and have come to
save all of you by what I have done -- can stop them from
DELIVERING you outer space? The very idea that some of you have
been trying to ACTUALLY stop them from GIVING you the universe shocks
them. You just had your damned MINDS freed. By me and the
Consonance last Sunday night, yes, your entire lives, were just
CHANGED on Sunday, and even NOW you deny this. Your minds
FREED by me and The Consonance. You have been getting e-mail
after e-mail about this stuff, and meanwhile an alien ship sits up
there and watches me type all of them.
(They have not been stopped, just pissed the hell off, and delayed, with
more people ... dead.)
I have now gotten ONE e-mail from all the people I sent messages
out to, from my sister, Cherie. I assume she assumes I am completely
insane. I will go read it, but I assume that is her intent, and after I am
finished with it, and find out I was correct, I will simply delete the
message and continue my work here, trying to get the message out
to you. Reading it will take my time, but it is my sister who sent it
and I love her, so I must, but I assume she simply believes I need ...
"further mental help". She is, after all, a psychiatric nurse, and that
is her callen profession. My two other brothers, one a Physicist at Loral
Corp., one a freelance technical journalist working on a book,
have not responded at all. Only "Lisa Quinn" has sent words of
encouragement, many, many, of them positive, and she is my finest
advocate now, and she recently stopped writing to me. I assume
everyone in my e-mailbox, or most, assumes I have a case of immense
delusions of grandeur on a galactic scale.
They ... above me ... wonder ... why?
Why are you stopping "Mark Quinn" now?
Why did he almost get sent to a mental hospital ... when we cured his schizo-affectivity?
Why do calls still come in on his phone to "help him". We sit out here now to deliver your world?
An advanced alien ship SITS out here, and you still try to impede Mark Quinn?
Now, I, Mark Quinn, went out and brought these GREAT PEOPLE back for you,
The Consonance. And what was I given for this? Rejection. They are STILL trying to move me out of this house quickly, and I must prepare to move my few possessions. They won't let me work here -- on FREEING THE ENTIRE WORLD at my leisure.
They want to send me places like "group homes". But that is not my brother Jim's intention. That was one of many, many options he presented me. I was simply paranoid I might end up there instead of a nice apartment somewhere in Kent to do my work. One obviously can't operate a business from a "group home" while dysfunctional people are about you, and you must deal with them. I was afraid my budding business plans would be thwarted immediately,
and I magnified one of Jim's many suggestions for housing outside of this small house, and magnified it when I was nervous about finding a place to live.
For a while, I assumed the Consonance would arrive much later or never, so I went on planning for my future, but now that they are here why plan? I must be allowed to carry out their wishes for us. Why move anywhere? The more I move, the more will die? I really would like to be allowed to carry on my work down here. Now, I could have my work made easier, of course, by equipment, but that's about it. My bed, a futon, is just abominable. It's hard to get good rest on it. This chair is a little uncomfortable. The screen is fine. The computer. Fine.
Now, I don't know in what capacity they will help us, however, while I watched
the new Star Trek film, they hinted to me that the Enterprise in that film...
that ship will be NOTHING compared to what we will achieve now,
thanks to my and my family's efforts.
I am one of the greatest minds your world has ever known, and here, even now,
I am still shunned. Last night, I was almost taken away from the task of delivering Earth -- from itself.
For I was a man, in love in my loving family. I was shunned for what I was, a great man. Even those within my family impede me. Even now. They try to get me mental help. But I need none. But I was adored by all of them.
My fine brother, Edward, will forever burn golden in my mind.
And my niece, "Lisa" for the invaluable support they give me, has
always given me, and my fine brother Jim for his INVALUABLE,
INVALUABLE aid recently as my Saturn was worked on at his FINE
house and we went over her. Jim, you will NEVER
EVER be impeded by me for ANY negative action you have ever
taken against me. Your invaluable efforts to bring your love to me
about the works of science-fiction? Your love for The Who?
And all that wonderful music you exposed me to?
THEN you introduce the classical guitar to me? My greatest
tool for expression? My greatest joy? No, no, nooo I will NEVER ...
ever EVER forget the fine worlds you opened to me with your
fantastic mind. Now sitting up there in orbit about to take
JIM and you all ... I don't care that once in a while, in your
laughing acceptance of my wit, your fine encouragement of me
and my guitar playing, your embraces, your hugs. I will never
forget you again for any joy you have ever brought to me.
Ever. Your efforts to give me all alternatives to get me a safe
place to reside now -- as you offer me many suggestions -- I
don't care that one of these was in a group home.
Your suggestion to allow me to run a profitable business in
a CLEAN APARTMENT ...wow. Just ... wow. You freed me to
imagine I could work and make MONEY.
A LOT OF IT. God, Jim, you'll never know what that meant
to your little brother then.
Your shining face in your lovely home down there in North Canton
as I played my guitar for you, I will teach you, if you want,
to play it as you have never done before, if you so desire. I can
now. My hands now. Are free. To play anything, and I will work to
free yours as well.
Your efforts to bring that guitar up to me.
My family simply did not know who I was, they suspected some of it,
I was just who I was. But they knew, they knew I had greatness within me.
But they never knew ... I was the World Deliverer.
I quickly adopted fantastic guitar techniques, and learned to almost
completely destroy most traces of the nervousness impeding my hands,
and now, enhanced by The Consonance, they now produce works
even better than the best I have ever created. My fine works, adored
by my niece Lisa and Jim, will be nothing beside the STELLAR
COMPOSITIONS I will mint now that The Consonance has boosted my mind,
and Consonance-enhanced it. I will be your finest. I often was so motivated
for acceptance I lost weight, gained weight. now I totally manage my diet. I
abhore fattening foods now. I sit up here with these
cheap tools at a workstation that is able to sift through the Web up
here in this room. In back of me, I made my singlemost finest recording
of a Fernando Sor piece, and it is on the Web and an artist video site called Vimeo. It was greatest achievement
of guitar work I have done yet, on a composition written by a major classical guitar composer, the great Fernando Sor. The single greatest composition I
ever worked on is on YouTube.
I took a composition from the great guitar composer, Fernando Sor, and
modified it. When my guitar teacher, who had studied with a great
Brazillian guitarist, heard the composition, he was shocked.
I sat behind where I am sitting here at work trying to finish
a preliminary work on Estudio Numero 19, in B Flat Major, by
Fernando Sor, what I consider to be one of the finest classical
guitar compsotions of all time. I have worked extensively on
a GREAT associate of Sor's the great Dionisio Aguado. I have one
of his recordings on the Web, I took one of his compositions and
wrote a song called "Penny In Your Pocket". My compositions on
the Web just went .. completely unnoticed. I sang "Penny" for
children in a playground and they were delighted, they loved it
so much. I should have immediately just taken my guitar around
Akron and started a career, but I ... just did not. I did many things
that just hampered my abilities as a major artist.
Soon, you will hear it on the Web. Sor was, as I was, largely
overlooked for his majestic mind. Now, you will hear his Estudio
Numero 19, I hope to do much better on this piece now than the
great, great, great Christian classical guitarist,
who I have written to many times and have received encouraging
e-mails from Sharon, Chrisotopher Parkening's secretary. My vision
for it far exceeded what he had done with his fine recording of it.
Even Segovia's fine recording now pales beside
preliminary versions of this almost ultimate expression of
classical guitar composition by the great Fernando Sor I am now
working on in my mind.
I was the fine, fine, seeker of truth. I went through mountains of
science-fiction book. I raised my fine brother Ed's eyebrows very
high, he thought I should be buried beside one of the greatest
minds of our time. Yes, I believe he said that. But, now...
My family, my dear family, I lift up to highest esteem, because they,
of all of us, saw great promise in me. My brother Ed, too. I railed
against Jim at times, he often became angry, but that is his nature. Now as my mind clears, I see how invaluable and how loving Jim really is to me.
Now that car has helped bring you immortality. That vehicle -- Jim personally
drove to Concord, New Hampshire himself .. has helped -- us transport you away --
to the stars.
Our entire family now ... brings you .. the stars. By me, it's most shining
love.
Now ... now ... now.
As you sit out there, you few.
Our greatest jewels.
The great whales. Now, ONLY now, when the smallest of us, dear
Alice, sat down there confused by my dealings with them, tried of
course, to get me help, I was yelling at her, and she thought The
Consonance was a total fallacy. Many of you still may believe this.
They are not. They are -- simply not. One of their ships sits up
there in orbit now, above us.
They removed the final bit of chaos impeding the minds of every
living being on our great planet called Earth. And now as you
wonder what I, Mark Quinn, burning among you all notice have
achieved for you, now look at what I have done for you all.
(Now? Not so much.)
I have removed barriers of thought. From EACH of your minds,
by an advanced alien race called "The Consonance" which now sits
above us all in orbit about our Earth.
This removal of the chaos hampering creative and intellectual
expression was removed from every creature down here, brought
about in large measure by what I have done for you.
Converse and intellectualism now burn about you because of what
I did with my lowly Saturn SL2, (now, the short burst has ended,
and I don't know when it will continue again, I simply do not. I sense
great anger, only). and the Consonance produced, totally managed
through my mind, one of the finest outdoor concerts in our Akron area.
Yes, yes, YES! The GREAT capacities in YOU ALL were unleashed last
Sunday night.
I don't care at ANY of your reactions to this news. It is what it is.
Acceptance? Rejection? Bah. Bully. Sigh. Do what you will.
The Saturn SL2 slid through Akron, Ohio. I turned the radio on, and
announcers became more civil. People walked through the streets of
Akron more slowly, lovingly. Policeman burned
with new respect for those they served.
By me. I am now humanity's greatest hero. EVER. Of all time, for
the things I have achieved. It has to be seen to be appreciated. I
suppose The Consonance could produce a recording of what
I played on my guitar there in that venue. A small marker
should probably be placed down there
on State Rd. where I was there with my guitar, or something
larger, where the final greatest performance
of music by any guitarist, was given, on that fine playground here near downtown Akron and Cuyahaoga
Falls where I played on a gentle evening, and the children in the
playground held hands and listened to my
guitar, and a woman wanted to sweep me back to her apartment
and make love to fat me. Roughly, rudely, readily, and randily. And
produce me with hours of pleasure. For simply making her guitar
dreams a reality, and willing to put up with my fatness Mark and thank me for it to no end.
These great beings spinning above this world, trying desperately to figure out what I was doing, I shouted at the The Consonance, GO GET THEM! Turn these whales' minds ON. We have been desperate for communication with these things! GO OUT AND SEEK THEIR RICHES!
She may proceed and do or not do whatever she desires, of course. My three brothers, also, will be near the top of the team. Regardless of what they have ever done to impede my efforts. My sister Cherie? My sister Cherie may do as
she desires. Other fine people will be at the top, too, of course.
Or near it.
They of course now wonder now even at this. I am here to assure all of my family, yes, it is true. A great ship now hovers about our world. I brought it here. They are called "The Consonance". They tapped into my great young mind, and left their messages there, and I worked to introduce
their ideas to the world. I started work on a small book called "7" when I was very young, then "Seven Strong" immediately flashed through my little mind. Edward sat in a chair in our small living room in Mogadore and marveled at this book fragment called "7" -- this incredibly short fragment of a book I worked on. Later, though my mind was scoured by nervousness, due
to portions of it being reduced by a fever that ravaged through it at the age of 4
or 5, I plunged into science-fiction and wrote of fantastic, gigantic holographic theaters on worlds across our great Milky Way Galaxy. I wanted this story to be QUICKLY made into a major movie.
The finest of the human race will be on our team at the top now. As some proof of my past achievements...
I had fantastic visions for this film. In this movie, you'd see huge, 3-D theaters with huge dinosaurs roaring in the center of these wonderfully-designed 3-D holographic theaters, and at the very bottom, a fellow in a cape, named "Francisco Duarte" would appear, and bow. Jim thought my idea fantastic, but thought it was raw and unfocused.
He said, "Any science fiction writer would be able to handle this much better than you." I thought this a rude slap in the face, and turned away from this great work.
In orbit of each world one of these ships, carrying Francisco Duarte and his fantastic crew, this great artist commanding computers at high speed to produce gigantic three-dimensional images by combination of computer power directed at Duarte's mind through biochip interfaces in his brain completely at Duarte's direction. Francisco, in my mind, sat in suspension below this gigantic 3-D theater, and great computers on these worlds would
monitor his chip-enhanced mind, and he would sit there sort of in suspension and his great mind would produce any work he desired or felt necessary at the time. He would adjust his work to the audience reaction in the locally-architected, 3D theaters his 3D holographic movies
appeared in on worlds across our own Milky Way, gauged to the reaction of audience at each theater he visited on each planet in the Milky Way he visited. His work would be tailored to his audience. Totally.
Then, then . then planets ... entire worlds, would SPIN! At the center of this
massive theater. Yes, these theaters are so big, that small SHARP representations of worlds would spin in their great cavaties. You'd have a shot of a large planet burning there, then Francisco would take you down, quickly to its surface. You'd see clouds part as the planet revealed more and more, I had flying vehicles fly though the skies of this world as the view, given to you by gigantic holographic projectors high above, would ... You would see planets spin in these huge, powerful theaters. And the aspect would shift even about these 3D views. ANYTHING. These massive theaters could show, then Francisco would bow, and THEN you'd proceed with him across the Milky WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! To other worlds.
Camera aspects would sweep spectacularly about, as the audience to reacted to
every moment of Francisco's productions. It was to be ... by far ... the finest movie EVER achieved by us. EVER! THIS! This film made the greatest science-fiction movies of our major directors look sick by comparison. This crew would burn through our galaxy, and they'd go to fine eateries throughout our galaxy and have fantastic adventures. The Milky Way Galaxy would be the backdrop for this fine science-fiction film.
The captain of his ship would be a romantic sort, very sophisticated and witty yet a somewhat of a scoundrel, and swaggering among many women, and would
protect Francisco and be a rouge, and this crazy engineer with burning red hair
with the last name of Scatterday would sit in orbit manning the ship carrying all three of them from world to world. He would float, often above each world in weightlessness, and his colorful banter would flash in hotel rooms as the captain accessed views of him on the hotel visiphones or whatever you want to call them
by sliding his small card into a slot on the visiphone while he showered
or dressed or what have you, and the images of the rest of the crew would
flash, and the captain could keep Francisco Duarte's life running as smoothly
as possible as his career continued.
I never finished the work. I felt that it would NEVER be filmed, and I
felt such sorrow at my lack of resources, that I shelved it in great sorrow,
and simply never began work on the premise, but the images always burned
through my mind when I reached adulthood, and as long as I live, I will never
forget the joy assembling those great vistas in my mind, as I sat at that
typewriter and wrote them, back in Mogadore, Ohio, as my parents
were away on vaction, meant to me as someone invested in a career
pursuing writing and publishing science-fiction.
I also, much later in life, wrote a poem that I consider my finest poem,
the finest science-fiction poem I ever created.
It is about the last group of humans who live in our universe. The last
stars in our universe begin to wink out of existence, one by one, so
our race has to keep its many inhabitants alive, so they plunder the
remaining stars in the universe for their fissionable materials, and they
use gigantic devices to draw these materials out of the cores of these
stares. These gigantic devices literally pierce these stars with gigantic
energy weapons and draw these materials into them, and so, these
materials provide our descendants with the power necessary to survive
in the final moments before the universe and all its inhabitants die.
I sat for days at work on this poem while I lived in a small condo
in Wadsworth, Ohio, with Alice Amore. I worked and worked,
and the more concepts about this poem developed, the more passionate
I became about finishing this poem, and having it published somewhere.
Then. It was finished. I was not entirely satisfied with it. I believe
I used the word "headphones" or somesuch for describing the device
the main character used to listen to the magnetic waves surrounding
the star that he listened to often because he loved the stars so much,
with their spouting solar flares, they reminded me of great, spouting whales.
That was my only real complaint with the whole poem. I struggled
with this, then shrugged, and sent it off to Asimov's Science Fiction
Magazine. It was immediately rejected by their poetry editor.
Scatterday was to be the major wit of the crew. I would have made him
hilarious.
I wrote, at the top of a review given of Francisco Duarte back then, at
age 22,
The DAMN FILM must wait. I've got to get the whole world up into
space. Give me time, you'll be sitting up there in space in enough time
to enjoy the damn movie, okay? Be good, be good.
You know, you ought to do this - you know? One teeny thing?
Don't send your leader away to a mental hospital.
I've got to get you up there to see it. Don't worry, don't worry. I'll make
sure everyone gets a good seat.
Including its producers, The Consonance. GOD! Did I want this to to made
into a movie. Very, very, very quickly.
I'd like some major studio to help me now start to bring this into being, but
I have absolutely no real connections, excepting for the most advanced
minds in the known universe, hovering above me now, in the most advanced
ship built within it. No access to graphic artists. Damn! No help from
Earth to produce this movie. Well, like when I almost got hauled away to
a mental hospital last night, and the Consonance helped
me stop THAT, I will have to depend on them then for this, too!
Do you THINK The fine Consonance computers, instead of our fine computers,
are up to the task of producing this film? Their sophisticated computers up
to the task of producing this work instead of OUR superior Earthly creations?
Oh, well. The poor little Consonance Computers will have to be my only
way of getting this movie to you. Damn!
Well, I just ... guess ... when their fine holographic images or whatever interfaces
the Consonance workstations offer me ... burn above my poor hands, I'll have to
just put up with THAT instead of my poor LCD monitor. A holographic display to
do my movies on instead of a MONITOR? Who WOULDA thunk it. Oh, well.
Poor me.
I suppose in the future you'll be able to sit in a huge 3D theater and WATCH
a 3-D movie based on my 2-D movie based on 3-D movie concepts.
BLLLLLBBLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL.
Now, we go out to explore the Milky Way Galaxy to make this movie shine.
Oh, well. Damn it! You can't see a DVD of this thing? With our superior DVD
motors grinding away, our superior DVDs, which cover much of our seas now,
floating down there to the enjoyment of our fishies ... YOU will have to wait
to see the damed thing in a big theater on a starship! WHAT THE HELL was
the theater owner thinking to put the damn theater on a starship! Everyone KNOWS
a theater can't be made comfortable on a HUGE starship? Hmm.
It was to be a stellar achievement of a movie. I couldn't believe the power I had,
in my supergenius mind, to view this, but the movie never saw the light of the silver
screen. Imagine! A movie within a MOVIE! I had this FINE VISION burning
throughout me. It never even started to get made, this film. I kept its best scenes
there to savor.
But it is ABOUT to come. I will start work on this MAJOR work.
Immediately. I kept my best scenes, like the Tyrannosaurus Rex
ROARING in the center of the huge theater in my fine mind, and now,
you are about to see what I'll be able to do with these incredibly advanced
film concepts of mine. Whew. I am at my prime, and I have years and years
now to work on this for you.
I was the finest, one of the finest this world has ever known. If this movie
had been made, it would have been stellar, and I sat at a small typewriter
in awe, at about age 22, and did my best to launch it into the movie theaters.
It has sat in my mind ALL THESE YEARS, and NOW! I am to begin
work on this movie.
It will be SPECTACULAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And now ... as my SECOND major work of all time? I bring you. Immortality
and the opportunity to explore ... the entire universe. Well, folks, topped
the first one. Maybe just a little, you think?
Now ... DOUBLE DAMN! We have to PUT OFF ENJOYMENT of another
MOVIE while we go out and capture the heavens. Ohh ... can't take this much longer.
They are there waiting now to provide us with an adventure we will never,
ever forget, and our intellectualism down here is yet a PALE, PALE shadow of
the adventure that awaits us all now. Think that old' Star Trek movie was fun?
Just watch what this guy does, once he gets some hands on some advanced
computer tools and a few guys. JUST WATCH!
I will always, always be adored by all, and it heartens me that I was the one, the one, the one, who gave all of YOU to all of them.
I was adored by The Consonance. I will always, always, always be special to our entire world, (at least, welll, I hope so, for saving it) and I beam with great pride that I have done this for you all.
It is over. It is over. (WHEW!!!!!!!!!!) The whales will now lead this wonderful
jewel out.
I in this limited capacity now think, the Great Mac Air will soon be nothing, our finest supercomputers these whales will discard, and soon, we will be joking and relaxing as they spin objects at high speed through their waters, then, wow. These whales will produce things soon for us. Very, very soon. I believe the Consonance is considering them now. Intelligence of great power. We have to know exactly how it is channeled, and how it can be used in any capacity for us.
Perhaps it never can, but soon, we will discover. Prepare.
And now, the whales' minds ... are free. And my great mind will lead you all.
Adventure awaits, and they will probably slowly, leisure lead us off our small
world here, as they lovingly watch their waters, finally removed of every trace
that impeded them, and now their great minds are
free, now. What I, Mark Quinn, have done for a WHALE is invaluable. I have
always, always worshipped them. I have followed the great Paul Winter, and
even produced that loving parody where I MOCK the man! I am now burning
with great joy for all who love what we are about to achieve here.
Together. As love encompasses our entire, entire world. As even places like
McDonald's now sing of haaa loooo hoooo leee from our fine "The Grinch Stold
Christmas". It is done.
I, Mark Quinn, and my entire family, are to be among humanty's greatest
benefactors and heroes of all time.
I bid you "world peace" now which I am some large measure have helped to
insure as I start now, to begin my work, at delivering this message across the
face of the World Wide Web, to as many of you who are prepared to listen to me
deliver it to you.
I love you all,
Mark Quinn
11:59 a.m.
May 13, 2009
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