Pixels

Funky funky funk fun fu. For You! That's what happens when you spell MU and it comes out differently. Differently like what happens when catabatic winds blow the wrong way and decide not to be known as adiabatic winds. Unabridged chaos for the slipstream, vortex of vortexes, alternatively scree on a boulderfield, or 8 bits rather than 32 bits in pixel farm. Which gets me to the topic of conversation, not reading, as that given the medium would be a bit circular and self-referential. Even for something bi-polar. What kind of little 8 bit creatures live on a pixel farm? Back in the day quite a few, then advances in growth rates and such made 16 bit creatures all the rage for a very short time and wow, it was soon onto 32 bit creatures packed and herded about the pixel farm. An industrialized nightmare of production, segmentation, shepherding, transmogrifying, morphing, and their ilk. Sooon the friendly little pixel friends became something large, scary, hairy, wooly and un-wise. Ah, but back back back to the time of the 8-bit sprite, now that was a real delight. So imagine my surprise when what do I find but map, no mere map, but a wonderful simple, blocky, map of maps. Describing the world and all underneath it all. Which incidentally also confirmed my suspicion that cthulu is a mere secondary manifestation of a higher incarnation of.... oh I cannot say. You'll have to ask the mice. They'll answer, but if they don't, don't blame me. Blame yourself. Maybe if you stare for a bit the pixels will change or you're looking too deep, or too fine and missing what's right there. Though it could be that the mice, they really aren't there at all either. Except when you look at them.