Good and so good for you.

The Whole Truth

It may seem strange to begin a communication such as this with a discussion of breakfast cereal, but it is nonetheless essential that I do so.

My story begins when I was a young child. There was a cereal my mother bought for us called ,"Crunch King," which consisted of little balls of corn cereal coated in sugar, and appearing in five colors: red, blue, green, yellow, and orange. This cereal was an off-brand, made to compete with one of the General Mills big sellers. As children will do, we innovated, finding unusual ingredients to add to our bowls of cereal. The most unforgettable was to mix frozen peas (don’t ask me why!) with the Crunch King balls--and I remember that the Crunch balls seemed to be a bit more buoyant in the milk than the peas were. I don’t remember if we actually ate the concoction.

I move forward in my narration now to my adult life when I was newly making my way in the world of business as an accountant. I was in Wensington, South Carolina for a business seminar, and was staying at the Hotel Grande. Also in Wensington that night was a political rally put on by the Commoner Party, then still a very obscure group. As it happened, a number of the participants at that rally were staying in the Hotel Grande as well.

That night I came into the Hotel Grande’s restaurant for dinner. I was sitting alone in a booth and looking at the menu. There was a concoction on the menu which consisted of cornbread, with a cheesy sauce poured over it, and with chicken, broccoli, and peas mixed into the sauce. The picture in the menu looked nauseating, but I had to chuckle because the thing reminded me of our old cereal concoctions when I was a kid. As a lark I told the waitress I would like to have “some Crunch King cereal in milk with peas mixed in, please.”

She didn’t get the joke (how could she?) and in fact she reacted quite oddly. She said, “Right this way, sir,” and motioned for me to follow her. I figured she hadn’t heard me correctly, but she began to walk quickly through the restaurant towards a back door, and it was all I could do just to keep up with her. She escorted me into a private banquet room, seating me alone at a table in the back of the room, near the door. The room was full, with men in dark suits seated at all of the other round tables, talking amongst themselves. I sat for a minute, confused, wondering what I should do next. Clearly, the waitress had made a mistake of some kind. Promptly, the waitress returned with, much to my surprise, a bowl of Crunch King cereal in milk with peas mixed in! I sat there kind of stunned. I looked around the room again and this time I noticed that everyone else had identical bowls filled with this same strange cereal concoction as well!

It was then that I began to get a little scared. Why . . How . . ? . . . I couldn’t even form a question. This surely had to be some kind of dream, but I knew that it wasn’t a dream. When I’m dreaming I never have to decide whether it’s a dream--the question only arises when I’m not dreaming.

A man stood up at the front of the room. “Gentlemen, fellow Commoners,” he said, “we are tonight bound together in a work of service to our country, and to the human race. Furthermore, I say . . .” I realized that these men were here for the Commoner Party political rally that was in town, and this man was embarking on a political speech. I didn’t care for long speeches, or for politics, and I especially didn’t care for this obscure political party probably filled with fanatics. And especially not now, when they all had those eerie bowls of cereal culled from my early childhood memories. I realized I needed to get out of there right away.

I was going to just stand up and kind of creep out of the back door, but I noticed the man was looking directly at me as he spoke. My blood froze. “Gentlemen,” he said, his eyes staying firmly fixed on me,“ let us make a toast to the future of the Party. Everything is now in place. This is the day of our ascendancy!” Then he lifted--not his glass--but his bowl (!) up to his lips. The others were all now standing and lifting their bowls as well. Together they all cried, “Milk for the Milky Way!” and they all drank milk from their bowls.

I was unable to move or stand. I could only sit limply like a rabbit hanging in the jaws of a coyote, knowing there is no use. So I had no reaction at all to the impossible thing that next occurred. The heads of all of the men in the room . . . disappeared. The men holding their cereal bowls were still moving around normally, but . . . with no heads. The man at the front of the room was still looking at me--I knew it, even though I couldn’t see his head or eyes. I knew what he wanted me to do. So I slowly stood and lifted my bowl to my lips. I recited the words, “Milk for the Milky Way,” and drank.

At that moment I experienced a vision. The bowl I was drinking from rose and expanded, transforming into a vast vortex of dark space-time. Within this vortex the milk transformed into the stars of the Milky Way and the five colors of cereal became five astronomical objects: supernovae, brown dwarfs, pulsars, globular clusters, and quasars. The peas transformed into profoundly black holes which I realized were dangerous--the places of emergence for hungry ravagers, creatures from other galaxies with insatiable appetites for power and energy.

The man spoke my name and said, “At last we have found you, our lost brother. You have been bred and then hidden and shielded, all of these years, until this moment. Today the Milky Way has called you forth. Now is the time. Come and take your rightful place at the head of the Party, to defend and serve. Step forward.” I found myself walking towards the front of the room, and now I was headless like the rest of them. I realized that I knew many things that I had never thought of before. Or I should say I remembered many things I had forgotten. I also knew that our heads were not really vanished, just extended into the 11 dimensional string-plane to function in advanced mode--though on this, our current earthly 3 dimensional brane, they could not be seen any more.
　
Yes, I had been bred and prepared for this very moment. When I was very young I had been implanted with fundamental knowledge of the true nature of our galaxy--in my childish bowl of cereal with milk and peas. And now the time of fruition had come. I was new and I was ready. I stepped forward into my place.

Of course the rest, as you know, is history--how the Commoner Party ascended to power and I became President of the United States; how I led you to victory through the Terror Wars and established peace and stability once more; how I ascended to leadership of the Consortium for Reticulated United New Common Hegemony (CRUNCH) and thereby became KING of the world; how I banished evil and chaos from your midst, and loved you as my very own subjects.

But you never new the whole truth, and now I freely give it to you: That by natural descent I am an alien, not native to your planet earth. You are too weak a people to govern yourselves; a greater species has come to do it for you. There are a number of us here on your planet who have protected and controlled you for your own benefit and happiness. We have kept it secret all these years. Until now. It is not auspicious to hide it any more.

YOU HAVE BEEN READING AN AUTOMATIC MESSAGE. If you have been reading the above message, it indicates that I am dead, assassinated. My demise triggered the release of this message to every screen in every home in every city of the world. Seeing this message means that our Commoner Alliance has been vanquished by hungry ravagers who have emerged up from the black holes. They have come to your world and destroyed us, your protectors. Now they will eat you and everything on your world. They will consume your families and homes. Flee! Hide! Fight! But you cannot! What is there for you to do?! We have done our best, but we were not strong enough, so now it is your turn to fight them. You do not have much to fight with. But you do have one possible chance to defeat them, which I will now explain to you--that is, if the ravagers don't first delete the rest of this message which