Dreadful Folktales from the Land of Nosferatu
Bram Stocker and his “Dracula” made perfectly clear the fact that Transylvania is the host of the vampires. Later on, the cinema established the origins of Nosferatu the vampire and there was no returning path from this. Since Transylvania is included in Romania, one can assume that this land is full of bloody tales, but you know, the actual land of Nosferatu grew different beings… Ghouls, werewolves, mutants, various anthropomorphic inventions or simply human beings possessing a rich imagination, all these creatures do not need blood, they rather haunt people for their souls. The Romanian folklore is captivating, especially when it comes to the less documented side of it, the stories told by the common people around the rural parts of the country, their mind-sets and the way we perceive them today. “Dreadful Folktales from the Land of Nosferatu” is a handbook I wrote based on such stories and is illustrated with black ink drawings by Romanian graphic artist Costin Chioreanu. The works he made for this series freeze certain moments in various tales that were heard from the mouths of some close friends of the authors, who happen to recollect some magical happenings encountered by their elders.
Here is a text about this little book, written by the fellows of Din Întunerec zine: http://dinintunerec.com/2017/07/22/dreadful-folktales-land-nosferatu/
And another one in Romanian: https://bookreportro.wordpress.com/2017/07/25/istorii-horror-povestite-la-un-pahar-sau-mai-multe/
Excerpt from Tainted Mutation
[…] Now that we are here on earth, I think that we should not take this planet simply as a large cemetery which cannot host anything else besides the mourning atmosphere and the calls of crows that rub salt in the world’s wounds. […]
Full story – Romanian version: http://liternautica.com/transformare-alterata/
Her wings got tired after a long flight through an atmosphere which was filled with communications, foul streams, great distances and things of all sorts of sizes; that is why she swung on a tree branch for a well-deserved rest.
“Does anybody hear how fast my heart beat is?” the bird asked. As a reply, a hive of flies got up in spiral shape, a few maggots hid in the holes of the excrements and the beetles stopped dead. Then the bird continued by saying “But those without heart cannot hear other’s hearts. Those who throw out their hearts become invaders in this world by setting the law at defiance. Otherwise, those who invented the foundation of the laws laid their account on the same thing.”
The spiral-shaped hive of flies dropped dead on the ground. Dust veiled it, they germinated and this is how new people grew up. The bird soared and the objects that came in her way multiplied and became bigger and taller, more vitreous and more capacious, but more crowded. Watching her reflection in a skyscraper’s window, the bird said: “I will prepare for tomorrow by suggesting myself that I will never forget how high I am able to fly.”
An inhuman painter crafted her feathers and barbs by using a majestic kind of black and white. Her appearance could cause chromatopsia for almost everyone who sees her. Even if the bird is portrayed as wearing a colorless contrast, she gets to release powerful colors comparing with the urban grey scales that are artificially petrified. After a few aerial pirouettes, the bird decided to look for a place to stay and watch people, so she seated on the casement of the first open window that appeared in the way. Through the bird eye you could see a squared image which was enclosing many other squares covered by steam. You could see a young woman with a glassy face, who was preparing some food in a kitchen decorated exclusively with right-angled objects. The young woman was talking to someone.
“Mom, I have told you a thousand times that he is developing now an extreme form of schizophrenia and he has no clue about this. Please, do not tell him ever. Otherwise he will commit suicide.”
The eye closed for a while. It was not a good time for studying human behavior. The bird got forth. Along with her flight, huge flames came out of that window. The bird got over the ocean and encountered the great bird assembly belonging to her species. The happiness of getting together created an ethereal dance. They were looking like a single organism which was dominating the sky. Each bird in this group was interfacing with the internal structures of the other birds. None of the birds was alone and their way was marked by an endless parable. The ocean waves were following their dance becoming a mirror for the birds.
The night came fast. The ocean got up a crystal-like full moon which ascended immediately into the sky. A few small fish remained hanging on some craters, but their slippery scales helped them to cut loose quickly and then, they fell back in the water and got dizzy because of their cosmic road which got covered with a surrealist speed. The flock separated and all the birds were looking like sleepy tiny creatures. Each winged creature went to sleep in a random tree found in a random forest.
The doomsmorning has arrived. The flying being woke up early, but remained in the nest a few more hours to contemplate her visions. Birds never oversleep. The light was rising when the bird’s song became sadder, proclaiming the sables that were to cover the world’s forests. On the other side of the landscape, in the city, there was a wild boar hanged from a power-line tower. A bear was shot dead in the marketplace. A deer was lying with a knife stuck in its head in front of an institutional building. A giraffe was poisoned by some kids and its body was thrown in a scanty dumpster. Someone smashed a tiger’s head and the animal died in a park. Also a hawk was found dead in front of a jewelry store and its wings were plucked off. People could not notice these things because they were absorbed by important facts, such as the competition between them, which was based on the individual breeding condition. As soon as they got knowledge of what is going on in the city, the birds started their migration towards that place, which by that time was shrouded in dense fog. There was an unearthly atmosphere. As the birds reached the town the assault against people began. They needed less than one day to blind about three quarters of the population by stabbing people’s eyes with their knife-edged peckers.
It was the next night when the bird that foretold the grief of so many animals was trying to get back in the forest. The bird could not fly higher than the average height of a man because of the weird fog. The bird was going above the highway and a red-haired cow was coming from the opposite side. The cow was running like hell. The bird managed to avoid the beast, but it turned back, took a run and moved against the winged being. The flying creature opened its beak but no sound came out. She wanted to go higher but the wings didn’t belong to her anymore. She was to escape but the whole picture got black.
Romanian version: http://www.revistadepovestiri.ro/pasarea/
Excerpt from Mister Mask
Why does the midnight breed them all? Why does the blood flow from their faces? And why does the river of blood fall into the swampy hell? There is someone hidden underside, someone who receives all our words. He does not lose any of them. He has some underground mazes, thousands of them, or maybe we do not have enough numbers to count them. Speaking of that someone, there is nothing revealed about him, nothing that has to do with eternity. I am talking about Mister Mask. His labyrinths are filled with cases and boxes. There is a devilish establishment, even if no light source can be seen in his huge sinuous temple. During the night time, he devours all the words that you speak and when the day comes, he acts like a postman, bringing your words back in material shape. […]
Full story – Romanian version: http://egophobia.ro/?p=10250
Excerpt from Real Time
[…] When I opened up my eyes, mister Time was there. This fellow does not know much about our world and he is not more than a clone, a quite one. He considered then that it was a good moment to degrade me for the thousandth time… The thousandth time in a single day… This lord led me to perceive the moment of my eyelids’ separation like a course of about five or six existential cycles. Shame on you, mister Time! […]
Full story – Romanian version: http://liternautica.com/in-timp-real/
Build an empire using bottles, bury it underground and then cry. Stop! The rain will come. It will push it out and you will run. Come back to create some shards. They are useless. But hold on! Paint them with your own blood. Now they are big and beautiful. Go wrong inside your dreams that are brought into the world by diseases. Come back to life and walk through the mud. Wash your mind and body in silver and do not forget that your soul is running towards death and then smile. Throw against you everything which is massive. Stop thinking at cures! Look inside! Awake the time using monsters and clouds! Do not curse the colorless space, because you will never know.
I was thinking that if I had got out of bed, I would have been eaten by mice. Otherwise, if I had remained asleep, I would have been eaten by some dogs. I got up, of course, because mice are less dangerous than dogs. Anyway, if I had hung in the balance, I would have been devoured by pigs. At that moment, they were terribly starving. I opened the door but the storm outside made me close it immediately. I went then to search my cosmonaut suit. It took me an hour to find it and then, another one to put it on. The storm, the flood and the sludge were just a change of scene and it was the time to gather apples for the pigs’ lunch. A few moments after I fed the pigs and myself andI noticed some intruders. They were actually policemen. I asked them from the very first jump: “What did I do wrong? ”
“Nothing, ” said one of them, “but you must help us identify a dead body. We’ve just discovered a murder in your village. ”
“But I do not know the people of this village, except a few ones. It would beat all creation if the dead man was a friend of mine. ”
“But you would not lose anything if you take a look. ”
“My inner silence was just annihilated. I think this is a huge price that I pay. ”
“We are aware of this. Look, I am sorry, but the dead body got a wretched condition. The village mayor called us this morning. He told us that there are rumors in the village about someone who has died in his own house, because there is no living sign since long ago, even if the clues show that someone lives there. There are birds and cats in the yard. A woman entered the yard to feed the cats and then she said that felt some kind of a cadaver odor. ”
“And why do you think that there was a crime? ”
“You will see. ”
The dogs did not bark at strangers, a fact which surprised me. They looked very suspicious. I locked the gates and I went on a short expedition through the mud with the police officers. One of the policemen asked me: “Why do you wear this outfit? ”
“It is an astronaut suit, ” I replied. “I made it. I have never travelled to the outer space, but it is very useful when I am working in the gutter. Now that you are taking me to a place where the corpse flavor dominates the atmosphere, it is easy to understand that the helmet is very helpful. But even so, I think a gas mask would fit my circumstances. ”
The dead man’s house was not far away from mine. I went on foot for about ten minutes. We stepped inside the yard and we were welcomed by hens with blank eyes. I saw just a cat, sprawling on the stoop, being annoyed by the sound of the rain. I felt the smell of putrefaction in spite of the fact I was wearing an astronaut helmet. We entered the house and got in the small murder room. That man died holding a newspaper in his hands. He was throttled and the police officers said that the crime occurred about three weeks ago. So the dead man’s neck got so long that reached a size of one and a half meter, or even more. He had violet ears. The TV was still on, and his head sunk in the articles from the newspaper, being grossly swung. The dead body was partially naked and its facial features were easy to distinguish but I did not recognize anyone there.
“Probably someone knocked over his house because this room is very messy, but I do not know this guy. Is there anything else that I can do for you? ” I asked the cops.
“No. But if you find out something new or hints regarding this case, please inform the village mayor. ”
“Of course I will! ”
So these bullocks, I mean these jar heads, I mean the cops got me out of my house and then they just sent me home. I assumed that I was living in a crime village. Once I got home, I knew that my dogs will protect me. But then the great war started, it was me against the huge world of nightmares.
Someone in Human Land
I do not know what kind of horrible thing was able to influence me in the night time, but in that moment I felt like my bedroom was compressing. I had to leave my house. Where to go at 11 PM? Yes, I thought that the best is to go to a place where I will drink some liquors and nothing else besides my mind would compress. Two steps out of my door and I heard a voice saying: “May I have a cigarette? ”
At first I did not figure out if that was a female voice or a male voice. I looked around and I noticed that there was a man dressed up to the nines. He was holding in his hand a plastic bag from which was snuffing aluminium bronze. That bag was releasing a strange flavour, making me wonder if there was a way to leave the planet and live among nameless and spineless beings in a galaxy ruled by an unknown creature.
“Yes, ” I said.
“Thank you very much. Do you have a lighter? ”
“Yes, I do. ”
“Oh! Thank you! Thank you! I would like to ask you one more question… You know, I have just finished my work at the large national company which hired me. I was at the office by 7 AM and stayed until 11 PM… You know, I would like to go and have some fun, to get rid of the black thoughts… I would like to dance, to drink wine, to talk to women and maybe to return home with one of them. So, can you give me enough money to go to a decent place? ”
“No, I cannot… Why don’t you ask the corporation if it’s going to pay you? ”
“This is not your business and you know that. Everyone is selfish and ungrateful. ”
I left this guy and heard him screaming from behind. It lasted about five minutes and then stopped. I was heading to downtown in the very middle of a frosty night. But nonetheless the streets were crowded with children who were looking and behaving like buffalos, women running and carrying luggages and lots of noisy people. There was a naked girl in a cesspool with another one, who was dressed with a fur coat and was taking pictures. I raised my voice and asked them: “Is there a purpose in this action? ”
“No! We are just having fun.”
I kept my way and I understood that the coldness is no jesting-matter. I decided then to get into the first night bar that comes in my way. There was no suitable time for demands. So I made my way towards the wood cottage from the top of the street. On the cottage was written the ‘bar’ word. I opened the door and I went downstairs. I heard piano music and I saw on the stairs lots of blood and body fluid splashes. I went to the basement and the picture was just like this: a small room decorated with small chairs and smoke clouds. On the left side was a table and a woman was sitting alone there, reading a book. A man was crying in the doorway, saying over and over again: “I am not the one to blame! I am not the one to blame! ” It was not something to lie on my line, but seeing myself down in that cheap inferno, I thought it would be wonderful if I go and buy some drinks. Eventually I spotted the bar, but I was still not able to control my curiosity, and I stared at the people around me as if they were aliens. Then I saw a woman propped on the bar and an old boy who had his leg amputated was flagellating her, saying with a loud voice: “This is why I came here!” There was no time to wonder, because then my view focused on the stage where some naked young girls, having about ten years old, were dancing and throwing cash here and there to random customers. I thought it would be better to annihilate my rationality and I remembered the bar and asked for a vodka. “We do not sell alcohol. I am sorry! ” The bartender was no other than Saddam Hussein.
From the Dream to the Grave
The story below, The Madhouse is included in a small illustrated volume of short stories that I have recently published. It was the first time when my scrabbles were printed. There were just 30 copies of this volume that were randomly spread in the main during a trip to Bergen, therefore this volume was not for sale. Besides The Madhouse, there are other four stories: The Village, The School, The Jail and The Grave.
Here is the prologue:
The main character from the following stories is you, or me or each living being that seeks the same key in order to open a library in the Universe. This character was in permanent search of his vision. Maybe he is still doing the same thing. Or perhaps he is dead. The fact is that the society told him that he can buy everything, even visions and dreams. He did not believe, so he became the black sheep of the flock. But he remained in touch with priests, leaders or heroes. In his world, death is not so bad. The single bad thing is actually the fact that people are afraid of death and they do not want to accept their ephemeral condition. This is why we do not want to see our inner selves. This is why the idols will not disappear. And this is why we need to end our destinies. We are the idols of the idols and we still want more idols. There is nothing dramatic in my words. Everyone knows these things. And you know for sure that our philosophy will vanish if we stop telling stories. You also know that our natural realm will fade away just because here, on this planet, there are people who say “I am really bored!” How could that be?
In the beginning, the character’s journey was meant to be a refuge act, but then he found out that the refuge is just an illusion, the same as his life. There is no such thing as a refuge because we are never alone. And if the earth wants to swallow you, do not worry, just wait and see what happens. He met a lot of people on his road and all of them worshiped the illusion of life, never the life itself. The refugee’s road is the liar’s bridge. Liars will only cross bridges without reaching any destination.
“You’re crazy! The wind does not have a reproductive system, you moron! So, one more time, what are your parents’ names?”
“Wind and Atmosphere!”
“Fine, it’s time for vitamins!”
Although he could not rely on his body, there was only one serious question which ground his bones, his brain and soul: to stay, or to go? What a good life since darkness was born! He was able to accept afterword the thought that he would stay… And that’s all… Seemingly! But he was proud that he managed to hide the light inside, in the dark. He was tired of lying and using horrible tricks in order to carve a god, to have it always by his side and to be taught not to feel anymore. He could have strong feelings under anesthesia too. How much time can be wasted in this straight world, when there is no straight man?
“I heard you! Even if you cannot scream and run you are still thinking out loud. Maybe we should prescribe you some dinosaur painkillers. But you know, anyhow, sometimes it’s better to lie. ”
“Sometimes it’s better to die. It’s fine anyhow, too bad that we are here.”
“I am so sorry for you. It could have been different.”
“And how many times you had this feeling while being in this useless hospital?”
“If it was useless you would not have been here. I have this feeling for almost all of you. It’s about showing mercy to others.”
“I am useless here, the same as you. Just because you are gifted to survive, it doesn’t mean that you are a hero. Your situation is useful but the reverse does not work. Did you ever think that maybe I am your brother who does not know if he really wants to leave the madhouse? Maybe this is not bad for me, not for you either, so who suffers for this minor fact?”
“You, your parents…”
“I miss the Wind, but he does not miss me, he will always be so full of life.”
“This is incredible! Enough of this! Take your darkness and go to hell!”
“After you, my lady!”
Millions of leaves have fallen and he still did not receive the angel’s kiss. Someone knocks at the door… And he is able only to whisper.
“Why are they knocking at the door? Because anyhow – whoever might be – will enter here like to a cave. As if they would care if I am dead or not. If I am dead, the better for them, a new place will be available and so, this is my contribution in saving the world from the potential fools.”
“Hey! It’s me, the Mouse! How many times do I have to tell you that you are not alone, or a misanthrope?”
“You did not even knock at the door actually. You just popped out from under the bed. You are right. See how miserable people are? They talk about loneliness without knowing what this means. Damn it! A planet inhabited by nihilists… Tell me, Mouse, how would you describe the nihilists?”
“I don’t know. I did not meet any of them.”
“The nihilism is just an utopia as well. Maybe there are nihilistic people, but I never met any of them either.”
“Could Zoroaster have been one of them?” , asked mouse and began to laugh hysterically.
“Nietzsche could not even present him like a nihilist, either less the other people who have talked about him.”
“I’m asking myself, if it took thousand years for people to make the difference between truth and lies, what would they need to discover the nonexistence of truth? Eventually, the lie is defined as a human, especially since those days when the society was founded.”
“The mold has flourished since then and today we can see how man struggles to emulate the Universe and to come up with new laws of nature. I think every man felt at least for one moment what a small creature he is, but most people choose to deny this feeling. Today they want to prove they remember how the firmament looks like. I wonder who can watch the skies without having a material interest or without thinking at the self. They want to show us the fact that they can create the space nebula and they can walk undisturbed across the Universe, as if it belongs to them. Instead of this, it is true that the words belong to them. In our case is the same, Mouse. It’s just that we do not enjoy this and if you remember when we were at the village and I saved you from drowning… Oh, well! Back then, I did not know the meaning of the word <>. Do you think I was missing something then?”
“Nothing besides life experience. But even then you were scared by the death that you did not see many things. I could not understand that fact.”
“I know. I was like a box made of glass.”
“But what do you think about the apocalypse?”
“I do not know. I guess it is about that phenomenon which was raised by mankind about three thousand years ago. It is not a constant phenomenon, of course.”
“Fair enough! But if we must explain the Revelation as a phenomenon which is going to happen, according to what people say, I think this event will develop an artificial aesthetic explosion. It could be just a local event, of course.”
“Do you mean that it will be something which looks great and that’s all? An imitation of a natural phenomenon?! As if people would know the rhythm of nature.”
“Exactly! However, you should sleep more. Maybe you’ll dream something that is beyond compare. I saw your nights turning into nightmares without exception.”
“After I was told yesterday that Jesus has always been the great god of India, I dreamed of a nuclear bomb attack and I still could not be killed.”
“Are you sure that this happened yesterday?”
“No! Maybe it did not happen yet.”
The mouse went to sleep, or who knows, maybe it just started working on new networks. But the in-patient could not fall asleep. He thought he should enjoy for the first time the fact that he had his own room and regarding freedom, “to hell with it! It does not exist anymore.” But that little peaceful moment disappeared immediately when he realized that his own past showed him how to no longer relate to bad memories. His only mission was to feel all the vibrations that surrounded him. And yet he still does not prove that he has learned something. He still feels the way how memories broke him down long ago.
In the morning, as soon as his feet stretched, he started to walk through the hospital. Various patients stopped him in the hallway to tell him that they have a high education and are all healthy, each of them using the same sentences. They were all dressed with holiday clothes because that day was a big Christian celebration, which meant a huge amount of food for most of them. Sores and parasites were hidden under their outfits.
“Oh! If only I were a corpse and someone would ride the hearse for me. Who?! The horses! I don’t need people to help me say goodbye to your city which is populated with humans born by stray dogs. I wonder how long it will take until the commercial education will dethrone your god. I would not want to live in a world like that. I have come to prefer those dirty Christians.”
Having these words on his lips, he experienced a kind of sadness greater than the entire world. Watching from the hospice yard the songbirds that conquered the territories of all the gods who were the children of men, he found himself outside the hospital, trying to unconsciously follow the birds’ maps. Since the first hour of the day the celebration in question annihilated the attention of the guards. The patient awoke in Babylon wearing pajamas. He felt in the air a dancing atmosphere, but he was unable to dance unless he would completely forget about his identity, thus he chose to move forward, stepping gracefully. On his right side there was a field covered with black plants that had the length of his half body, having some small leaves. On the left side there were people dressed with large and white clothes who were digging the soil. This introduction closes shortly after. And so the lost patient steps on a city street. It seemed that in front of him appeared an infinite line made of stalls. And so it was! So many objects for sale were exposed on each stall that he sank in a mixture of colors and shapes, so he could not recognize anything. The full moon was reigning on the sky even though it was the afternoon time. On the opposite side of the sellers and their stalls there was nothing, just a shaky horizon could have been constructed because of the heat. He seemed to observe in the distance some agricultural lands but he could not exactly distinguish anything. He started to talk to himself.
“Good! Now I am going to die because of dehydration. All those freaks with their stalls seemed not to have within reach even the smallest bottle containing some kind of liquid. As if I had money to buy it! But it does not matter now because maybe I would have known then how to ask for mercy. I guess the rain has never been here.”
He did not imagine by then that he would reach a point when he could die of thirst. Maybe he had such fears when he was in the village and those around him were talking about plagues. But even then, when they warned him that it’s just a matter of time until the water turns to blood, he was not afraid that he will drink blood. The blood would contain water, he said, so he was calm, fearing mostly the origin of the creature from which the blood came out. He was walking too long with his head down when by mistake he looked around, protecting himself from being bitten by insects. A few feet away, he noticed three people sitting beside a single tree. There was a woman and two men dressed in black robes. Being afraid that they could disappear, he ran towards them. Hearing his steps, they turned their heads at him, one by one.
“How can we help you, stranger?” , the woman asked.
“I am terribly thirsty!” , he said, and in that moment he saw that a snake was dancing through the woman’s fingers. It was a slim and spotted snake, like it might have been a reticulated python.
“You are lucky because we have some water left. There you go!” , said one of them.
“Thank you so much!”
“You are welcome! Drink it all, because we will return to our home soon. For sure that the fountains did not dry up and the water will never turn to blood. Unfortunately, neither to wine…”, and they started to laugh like monsters. The other man asks:
“Where do you come from?”
“I came from a lunatic asylum.”
“I don’t know what you mean. Anyhow, for how long have you been here?”
“I do not know. I just arrived a few minutes ago, or an hour ago. Are you a priest?”
“Yes, we all worship the Sun. This is our meeting place where we share our prophecies.”
“Will I be a jerk if I ask you about the prophecies you discussed today?”
“Oh well, one of our common predictions is that the Sun will become an automatic and controlled illuminator for the population of this planet. Lucky us that we will die naturally before they will execute us.”
“But come with us! You can stay at my place because it is easy to understand that you have nothing with you, least of all a place to rest,” the woman said.
“Is it true that you have no intention to exploit me, nor a bad and senseless thought? I am not used to see such a so-nice attitude.”
“The strangers are our family. This is how things go here. To ignore strangers and not to give them anything of your possessions, it means to destroy the foundations of a realm’s economy.”
“I understand! I should have imagined this.”
They took a road adjacent to the main street and suddenly, heavens of vegetation came out of nowhere. One of the priests asks:
“Shall I understand that in your living place you were considered a man with mental health problems?”
“Yes. When I told them that the wind is my father, they hospitalized me for mental disorder.”
“Did you mention them anything about the primordial life?”
“Do you also think that we came from stardust?”
“It’s not my nature to talk about universal certitudes, because I am human and I do not have the necessary condition to do it. But here, we feel this thing since we know ourselves. I like to think that the wind from this planet is the catalyst of our life’s structure.”
The absolute darkness came on the stage. The subject awoke and a burning candle was blinking on the single nightstand from his room. He had his eyes fixed on that flame which seemed to be a feeble creature that saw more dimensions than people can imagine. He started to feel as if he had been travelling with that flame. He thought that he heard a voice saying:
“I wish I could help you, but you are here, lying in the hospital bed. This is not the Babylonian priestess’ room.”
The door opens and the nurse rushes to enter the room. She is now pregnant. The patient is scared and screams because of her belly which makes him think that it’s a growth.
“So Satan did not smile at you yet. Are you still alive?! You have to know that we don’t waste drug doses for the sake of the mutants. You are a mutant! You must get out of this hospital.”
“Do you want to book a place for your future offspring? You did not even ask me if I could walk.”
“Take him out! Now!”
About eight men entered the room in the same breath. They wore black suits and they had head-mounted antennas for signal reception. They took the patient and put him on a stretcher. Then they started to run.
“Take him to the morgue!” , shouted the nurse.
“I am not afraid!” , he said. “I know for sure that the ancient people’s thoughts were not in vain. I know for sure that all of you have died a long time ago. And I know that we people don’t have too much importance.”
Without cause in their quest, the people with antennas threw the subject down the stairs by mistake. The patient disappeared without a trace. I know this thing because he is I. We don’t have colour, race, or aspect. We just fly.