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{Transmission received: 16:04:20 Universal Coordinated Time}
Greetings and Salutations to my youthful compatriots in the circus arts,
I hope this message, after travelling unfathomable distances and miles and miles and miles and miles of wilderness and deserts, the likes of which I had never seen before my arrival in this strange land, finds you all right as rain and fine as wine. For truly it is a very far distance indeed — if the moon hangs a respectable distance of 12 from the face of our planet, then the wasteland I am surrounded by must be at least 14, perhaps even 17 (though the moon, these past few nights, has been hovering at almost 11 – I hope you have your best hard scientists on this phenomena). I had to rewire my telegram machine to transmit via electronic mail, so please forgive my inaniloquent syntax.
Anyways, I digress.
It has been a very long time since I was last able to communicate with my alma mater, The Benevolent Society for the Propagation of Assorted Tomfoolery and other sorts of Peculiar and Otherwise Absurd and Baffling Nonsense, this free and noble school where I discerned all the absurdity that was dispelled dispersed and dispensed to me. I fear I have been gone so long that the imprint I have made on the fabric of this fair society. Nevertheless, my role has never been to lead or conquer, but rather, to observe and cogitate in the most impractical of manners.
************ Un homme qui monte en ballon le jour du cirque pour rassembler une foule de gens et les charger de voir le cirque
Eh bien, un jour, je suis monté sur mon vélo propulsé par un ballon et les cordes se sont tordues, donc je ne pouvais pas redescendre. Je suis allé très haut au-dessus des nuages, si loin qu’un courant d’air m’a frappé et m’a emporté à maintes reprises. à des kilomètres. Pendant un jour et une nuit, j’ai voyagé dans les airs et le matin du deuxième jour, je me suis réveillé et j’ai trouvé le vélo flottant au-dessus d’un pays étrange et magnifique. (chapter 15) *****************
I arrived in this place, a long way from my native Omaha and an even further journey still from my beloved New Orleans, via my balloon-powered bicycle, which was swept up in some great storm and thrown right smack into the middle of the map. Here, I met all manner of people. The Gillikins, the Quadlings, the Winkies, and, of course, the Munchkins. Truly, this has been a grand exercise in floccinaucinihilipilification for one such as myself. I have taken on all manner of roles here in this great and terrible world, but the time has come that I return to the capernoited atmosphere of the crescent city. Truly, no better city and no better organization to pursue my research…
Though I will undoubtedly have stories to share upon my return, I will not ruminate too hard in the past; the present is fleeting and easily washed in heady recollections and flighty dreams of the future. As of this very moment, once I send this transmission, I will begin my journey back to J.U.G.G.L.I.N.G. C.L.U.B. forthrightly. I cannot wait to see all of you and hear of your grand pasts, noble futures, and fruitful, fully-seized presents.
Until shortly,
The Anthropologist
Though, here beyond the expansive wastelands, they have begun to call me The Wizard. How peculiar is that.