11/10/2011

Soul Plane

Story Sent in by Ned:

Holly and I were on a bench in a small park just off a street after dinner. It was our first date, and we were still pleasantly in the getting-to-know-each-other phase. She worked part time in an accounting office and part time in a college's accounting department. However, she had aspirations to act, and we were discussing these at length when she glanced up to the sky and froze.

I looked into the sky myself and saw something with multiple flashing lights.

"What the hell is that?" she asked.

I said, "An airplane. You can see its wings."

She shook her head. "No. It's a triangle shape." She stood up. "Oh God. Oh God, Oh God," she repeated.

I stood up with her. "What is it? It's just an airplane."

She said, "No, it's the UFO. I've seen in before."

"It's an airplane. Now you can even hear it."

She replied, "Last time it had pink lights, this time the lights are green, red, and white, but I know it when I see it. I want to go home."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I have to go." Without so much as a goodbye, she stumbled away from me and nearly tripped over herself on the sidewalk. I guess I was too surprised to say or do anything else, but I did watch the plane as it slowly coasted over and out of sight behind a row of trees.

She called me later that night, as I was readying for bed. She said, "Okay, so when I got home I was pretty sure that it was an airplane, but there was a message for me written in blood on my bedroom wall so I think I should stay here."

"A message in blood? What?"

She had a coughing fit into the phone, then sputtered, "Ol sonuf vorsag." At the time I didn't know what it meant, but I clearly recall my hair standing on end. She said, "I have to go. I'm expected," and hung up.

That was about four years ago. She wrote me an email last month that said, "Hey Ned! It's been a while. I'm in San Diego. Want to meet up?"

The closest I have ever lived to San Diego was the two years I spent in Denver. Why she thought I lived there, and why she thought to contact me again after so much time, will likely remain a mystery. I didn't write her back.

19 comments:

  1. "then sputtered, "Ol sonuf vorsag." At the time I didn't know what it meant, but I clearly recall my hair standing on end"

    Yeah, I don't buy that one bit.

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  2. It's always neat to see what lengths people will go to avoid saying, "No thanks." By the same token, it's also fulfilling to imagine her as actually being this imbalanced.

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  3. I still don't buy that he remembered an obscure "Enochian" phrase for 4 years, allegedly without knowing what it means.

    This is far too clichéd to be true. If not completely fabricated, it's at least a highly decorated story.

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  4. She's just F'ing with you, Ned...

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  5. He might have looked it up shortly thereafter. I would have. She likely couldn't find the proper Enochian for, "I'm just not into you."

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  6. What DOES "Ol sonuf vorsag" mean?

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  7. Morgan, there's this handy thing you may have heard of that we on the internet call a "google." (I've even heard of a "bing" and a "yahoo.") It's the reincarnated Oracle at Delphi given world-spanning intangible form on this here series of tubes! You can "copy" and "paste" that phrase and get a pretty quick answer.

    And, yes, it did take me longer to type this witheringly sarcastic reply than it would take me to look it up for you.

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  8. ...but that's only because I type slowly on my droid keyboard.

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  9. No need to be rude Agnes.

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  10. God help those of us that would prefer to have a conversation about a topic with someone who professes to already know about it, than use google...

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  11. Jason: Except of course that the other half of that conversation does not necessarily want to converse. This takes time out of their day, time that you apparently feel they owe you.

    In any case, it's part of a key to a occult "Enochian" language, as written down by Anton LaVey in his Satanic Bible. The key is mostly a fabrication by LaVey without any groundings into the origins of the script, though. Not that it matters, since it's all hokey anyway.

    "Ol sonuf vorsag" would translates to "I reign over you" (says Satan, as the key continues).

    The language is used for occult "magick". I.e. by certain teens and that fraction of LaVeyan satanists that actually believes in the magick crap in addition to being egoistical bastards.

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  12. Jason, that argument makes sense in real-time meatspace discussions, but less so on the internet. Three seconds to google? Check! Four hours and eighteen minutes for the ever-wise Doctor to respond to the comment? WAY TOO LONG for my attention span.

    Morgan, you may be right. Alternately, you may not have spent much time on the ABCOTD comments. I don't know which, but I do know that Nikki told me on the phone today (just to, you know, name drop that I'm cool enough to be friends with her!) that I can be temporary Queen of the Trolls on ABCOTD while she's super busy being in grad school. (I am too, but apparently I find time to be on the internet too.... unfortunately.)

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  13. Anton Le Vey didn't invent Enochian, it was originally written by Jon Dee

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  14. Agnes, if you're going to be snarky about others not using Google, the proper procedure is to use a "Let me google that for you" link. Like so.

    http://lmgtfy.com/?q=Ol+sonuf+vorsag

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  15. Rawr, Miss Manners would be proud of how gently you handled that correction of my netiquette. Thank you. Morgan, you were right, I was being rude: next time I'll use a lmgtfy link.

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  16. DrMcCoy: Thank you for the great explanation!

    Agnes: I'm glad we started an interesting conversation on internet etiquette.

    Honestly, I did google it but the explanation I found was lacking. Also, it seemed like the fact that the story mentioned this phrase, referenced that the poster later understood it, but didn't actually explain it was a big gap that would leave others wondering. I thought maybe putting an explanation in the comments would help me and others who came afterward and were confused.

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  17. I agree, Morgan. I googled it immediately and all that came up was a shit-ton of gibberish.

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