This Is Christmas Metazen

YOU HAVE RECEIVED ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE FROM CALYPSO ON A TUESDAY NIGHT WHERE THERE IS NOTHING TO BE SEEN BUT THE GLOW OF SMOKE AND THE REDDENING OF EYES 1. VIEW NOW 2. VIEW LATER 1 You gotta hear this story. You cannot leave here until you complete a task, a task that has multiple stops on a line, transfers of power, electricity. Arrow to elephant, yesterday to tomorrow, crosses over naked torsos, the crux a metropolitan heart. You are a 3536 mile alternative to swaying the vomer bone, or steam of oolong through nostrils slapping away zinc fngers. If we let xi be the rate of fow i, the act of stirring before comfort zoneCl be the capacity of link l, and rli be 1 if fow i uses link l and 0 otherwise. Let x, c and R be the corresponding vectors and matrix. Let U(x) be an increasing, strictly convex function, called the utility, which measures how much beneft a user obtains by transmitting at rate x. Let you be m, sucking on color coded feathers in the kingdom, so royal to the ear, though tundras and blue-eyed stares are less than hierarchical these days, a shame really. Let you be here, let us drink Russia, let me be here, let you be chocolate in bows, let me be chocolate melted in hot milk on hill tops, let you be in make shift factories in make shift tables, let me take photographs, let you smile in them, let me twist ankles in boots, let you blow out knees in heels, let m to be a topological space. Then defne open(m)= set of open subsets of m. There is a natural partial ordering of open sets by inclusion. In fact, any partially ordered set is a category where the objects are the sets and the morphisms are inclusions. Let it be later. Let it be cigarettes in non-smoking areas. Let it be 6. Let m be greater than c, yet dependant upon it. Let it be albion, albionoria, borealia, cabotia, colonia, efsga, hochelaga, laurentia, mesopelagia, norland, superior, tuponia, transatlantica, ursalia, vesperia, victorialand. Let c be the guardian of it all, aeronautics over imaginary fy-zones, jokes about monitoring Tyneside balloon festivals, stripes on sleeves, stripped of royalty, thirteen wings across that one dominion, de Havilland’s evolving from caribou, jet-stream ficks of tongue de-iced over Newfoundland, up and out and north to old Christiania, city of oranges and tigers pawing at mermaids and hemiboreal climates, wheels up then down not via Flytoget, but through Sandelfjord, salted tarmacs like spaghetti water, raise that temperature up, north.