May 29 - The moon disappears**

Monday, May 29, 1972 - Page 150
LOCATION: Newport Beach, California

MAMMORIAL DAE (You remember her, don'tcha?)

5:17:38 AM
The moon just disappeared. Either I'm badly mistaken, or this is a(n) historical moment in natural or unnatural history. At about 12 after five I looked out the window and saw the full moon, gold of hue, in what appeared to be a clear, rich deep blue sky, pre-morning type.

Now you see it...

A few minutes later I looked out there again, and the moon wasn't there. It couldn't set that far in just a few minutes, and there isn't any trace of it at all. Wait a second, I'm going to look again... nope, it's still not there. How about that.

...now you don't

I'm listening to "Lum and Abner" now, and I just finished the final first draft of a letter to Soozwol, a monumental effort in letter-writing. It took me 4 and a half hours. Now I'm going to go to sleep. Good night/morning. 5:24:02 A.M.

10:10:10 PM
I still haven't seen the moon yet. I haven't heard any mention of its disappearance on the Gradio, but it certainly would be news. Where would the next Apollo flight go? -- I finished the final copy of Soozy's letter, and I guess I'll mail it in a couple of days.

Grandma Dot came over, and she said she'd pay for an airline ticket to fly me to South Dakota, so, I guess I'll be leaving in a couple of weeks. I heard Tom isn't there any more -- he left. It was another record breaker today ~ 97° in L.A. The highest on record of this date was for 1881 when it got up to 79°. I tanned my hide alot, and read "Theother."

Lara & Mike dropped by, and Mike and I moved that cabinet out back like Mom wanted, and I rearranged the boats back there (there's only the blue downriver boat & "Patch" now, Chunk has the "Mongoose," and Glenn took away his kayak last Monday). Mom & I continued to get this place cleaned up. We also played some more chess, after a big dinner. She won two games, I won three. I'm now on page sixty nine in "Thother," and I'm on page 110 in "Man's rise to civilization as shown by the indians of north america from primeval times to the coming of the industrial sta[end of page]

May 25 - Arranging rides for Chuck

Thursday, May 25, 1972 - Page 146
LOCATION: Newport Beach, California

(1:11:11 AM 5/26/1972)
Last night at 7:00 I drove over to Chunk's, and then I drove us to Hermosa Beach to see Sherry. She's moving into an apartment and she hasn't got a phone yet. We were seeing about whether her Girl Scouts could go on some trips with us ("us" being Me, Chunk, Glenn, Murray, and Steve somebody). We stayed at her place a while -- Thursday afternoon she is leaving for a trip down The River (Topock Gorge -- Colorado River. Where Chunk, Glenn, me & mike went 2 yrs ago). Left her place at around 10:00. Chunk called somebody in Redondo for a ride to King's, and then I drove us back home.

I got up this morning about 8:30 or 10:00 when Chunk came over. He wanted to go paddling, but we played chess instead -- he won 3 games, I won 2. He left at noon. I went to sleep at around 4:00 and got up at 8:00. Watched T.V., did dishes, and Dad came over with money. I drove to the liquor store to buy some food, and walked back. Mom was just talking with Chunk on the phone about Chunk getting driven to Redondo Beach tomorrow nite. There was a little problem for a while, but it eventually resolved itself into the idea that Mom would get Chunk after work, and then drive him to Redondo to get dropped off, where he will get a ride to King's. The end.

Now it's 1:22:22 A.M. The end, again. again

Mar 04 - Ruff draft: "Demagogue's Demise"

Saturday, March 4, 1972 - Page 64
LOCATION: Newport Beach, California

11:11 PM
Woke up at 9:30, worked on the Temporal Exploration terms and definitions that I'll use in the TEMPUS FUGIT series. Today was a record breaking hot one for L.A. -- 96° F, pretty warm for March 4. Squat Harris [actually Scott Harris] came over today to use Glenn's kayak. He's moving to Arizona Monday. I read some more stuff, then I decided I'd better start writing another story -- I've gotta be prolific. I read the old Life Mag. article about Adolph for research purposes, then I forced myself to write DEATH OF A TYRANT, which I'd been idly considering after completion of MOIRA-QUEST. I scribbled the rough draft in ten minutes -- maybe I can finish the real thing in a week or two.

Either titled DEATH OF A TYRANT or (for the sake of alliteration) DEMAGOGUE'S DEMISE:

From the planet Icktenspil it came, across the great expanses of space, toward a planet whose beings were entering the start of technical progress -- the promise of energy needed by the Icktenspilian Empire. As the demiurge approached the planet, it considered its destiny -- it would follow the same patterns as the many other worlds. At the point just before unbridled capability, the Icktenspilians would harness the beings' powers -- tap them before they could retaliate, and leave them crippled, powerless, drained... and the Icktenspilians would move on. This was the tyranny the demiurge promoted, and it was as it should be. The strong use the weak to build greatness -- greatness that lesser beings cannot know. The powerless are subjected to those who have gained power -- the law was obvious and irrevocable.

The demiurge angled in toward the sun, its physical properties luminescent, streaming backward in the fierce solar wind. Speeding past the planet, it jetted its consciousness at the target, leaving the departing physical substance to continue outward, sweeping in a wide ecliptic. When it returned, the demiurge would be ready; it would catch hold once again and leave -- its work completed, another energy source insured. Follow-up orbits would allow him to check the progress, keep things running smoothly.

Its consciousness entered the thick atmosphere, intent on easy control -- and suddenly it was gasping for life. Something was sucking it down, threatening to drown it, casting it apart in tattered shreds. Its consciousness was dwindling as it neared the earth, inundated with billions of individual points of free will, unknowingly defeating him with their very presence. Enraged and dying, the demiurge grasped at its final hope for survival -- it needed something to fasten itself to, a rivet to its escaping awareness and individuality. Frantically, it came upon an empty mind and leaped into it, spreading out in its new container. It was a newborn entity he now inhabited, and it wasn't empty -- the puerile tenant awkwardly fought the intruder, and the threatened vestiges of the demiurge knew these beings were too powerful, but his fleeting pattern burned itself into the newborn personality, ingraining its aspirations and philosophies. Then it winked out, defeated.

Austria, 1889-- Adolph Schicklgruber is born.

Exhaustive revisions in the works. Short-short, it will sell for sure once I finish it.