In the spectrum between danger and reproduction

The Atlantic coastline of North Carolina spans an arc off the Outer Banks. The area is known as the “Graveyard of the Atlantic” because of countless disasters. Those stranded in the 16th century became the founding fathers of a tribal society that consistently rejected civilization. Subcultures flourished in the swamp. Maroons formed themselves into communities. Brigands recovered from their sea voyages among lizards and oaks, plane trees, palms, cypresses, wisteria, myrtle, sedge and beaver lodges. Shrub thieves sought refuge on Arcadian lagoon shores. Everyone heard the flapping of herons’ wings.

In a marshland that refuses to be colonized, crass outsiders still live in the furious present according to Stone Age elemental rules. Cessna Columbo grew up almost without care in the primitiveness outlined above. She searched for bark beetles in bark channels. She entertained herself with raccoons, crabs, snails and mussels. Even at seven, the daughter of a mentally burned Vietnam veteran could set traps, read tracks and lay false trails. Although she lived more abandoned than almost any other child, she played like any child. Her school was nature. At nineteen, Cessna died giving birth to a daughter whose father remained unknown. The orphan was placed with adoptive parents of German descent, who soon became victims of a robbery-murder. Relatives who remained in the Old World adopted the child and gave it their name. This is how Cessna Columbo’s daughter Cessna II came to be known as Cessna Bindewald during her youth in Kassel an der Fulda. She is now studying biology at the Landgraf Philipps University in Ederthal. At the moment, she fascinates Branwell (one of Nana’s lovers) with her explanations of the functions of colors in nature.

The largest structures in the world are created by coral polyps. They carry out photosynthesis and obtain nutrients from microorganisms that benefit their reefs. Hundreds of thousands of species live together in a very small space. This environment is too complex to be able to get a clear grasp of it using only the near senses (touch, smell, taste). In the condensed diversity, hearing does not offer enough of a filter to develop “identifiable sound patterns” (Axel Buether) in the spectrum between danger and reproduction. Think of the acoustics in a crowded waiting room. In any crowd, only striking colors ensure effective differentiation.

“Color is nature’s most powerful orientation system.”

With this announcement, Axel Buether opens a series of exciting explanations. “Colorfulness” proves biodiversity. It indicates variety. Buether mentions the functions of colors in the seven categories “orientation, health, warning, camouflage, advertising, status and communication.”

Sun Dust Melody

Trace elements of lead, gold and radium. That’s what remains of us, apart from carbon. We are stars. Like other stars, we are made of sun dust. Humans come from the forge of stars. We are all children of the universe.Why have we forgotten that?

The physicist Josef M. Gaßner explains the trinity of symmetry breaking, phase transition and cosmological inflation. Gaßner lures nothingness out of a reserve of quantum fluctuation and shows how it can come to have properties. Quite a few masters of manifestation refer to Gaßner.

Like CC. We remember, CC is Nana’s Master of Manifestation. Spoiler alert. Read away if you’re attached to Nana’s hyperpotent king; if you like the idea that Nana is in danger of dissolving when power comes over her.

If you need a strong stimulus, CC is a good choice. There is an inconsistency in this story that we know can be easily overlooked. But we don’t want to. What does CC have to do with the Language Castle that was yesterday mentioned?

Nothing.

CC is so magical and supernatural that he doesn’t need any aids. Unlike Cornelius and the author himself perhaps... and Nana, as his accomplice in role-playing games.

Nothing could be more bizarre in the small hessian university town Ederthal, than to create false floors of pleasure in front of such staid backdrops.

We don’t go into anything in depth and we certainly don’t clarify anything. We take a quick look into the writing room. You see the guy, emaciated by the writing fever, a veteran of the culture war, marked by many lost battles; according to Montaigne, only idiots return home victorious from lost battles. Next to him sits his assistent Nana, who likes it when we report what she is wearing. Every sublimation increases the attraction for her. Self-love is big enough to always experience herself in focus.

Without this quality, this book would not exist. It’s the driver. The desire to show oneself in beautiful clothes, to dress and undress imaginatively, combined with the love of words - these are the ingredients of our story. Nana wears an emerald green silk twill wrap dress with yellow dots and subtle gathers on the side. It gives her femininity an Audrey Hepburn-style silhouette.

You can’t enjoy her without being educated. That makes sex a little like going to the theater or an exhibition. The more knowledge, the more pleasure. That’s what everything in the language castle is designed for. To be able to navigate effortlessly in the side valleys and peripheral areas of pleasure ... I hope you don’t confuse Nana with Sina or Cessna. But since we’re already at it. Nana and Cornelius experienced together how the astrophysicist Thomas Bührke once took a sip of water in a hangar at the Berlin Festival and framed the extravagance with the remark:

“This hydrogen also comes from the Big Bang.”

During the inflationary period, the universe reached a tenth of its current diameter. The primordial nucleosynthesis in the first three minutes after ignition organized hydrogen, helium and, in small quantities, lithium and beryllium. The universe was hellishly hot and black, and stars and galaxies didn’t start their fireworks until five hundred thousand years later. It was only in the collapsing stars of the first generation that other elements formed. That’s what we’re made of.

Happiness in the erotic corner

There is no shortage in the language castle. Every woman and every man is perfect. No bad breath needs to be filtered, no wrong word ruins the mood. There is happiness in the erotic corner. Sometimes Nana cums half a dozen times in staccato in a frenzy of monotony.