Urgent: Delta Wave Alert Link {Activate}.

  The entity inside his head, lucky had started to think of as the "Other Lucky" and it had been monitoring the map 1953 when a chronological anomaly occurred.  The time code had diverged into two separate streams one just seconds ahead of the other.  It ran a check on Lucky, "Ya feelin ok". "Sure", lucky trying to achieve a calm through the repetition of the corn slaughter, wasn't really into this intrusion from a suspect reality, expand calm, then Other Lucky interrupted and broke any expanding calm that had developed, "there was an anomalous chronological event that has... ta tell truth... baffled me".  Luckies anxiety leveled up one notch.  "I don't want cha ta worry, but I thought I should just let ya know.  Ya know?"  Lucky triggered an anxiety threshold, and sent another delta wave alert cast.  The next instant: "{Dad}: your mom's going to be there soon, layer calm",out of astonishment Lucky forgot where he was at for second, his dad was not one to send messages, he was very old and mostly likely had to wake up out of his mid-morning nap, to message him, and his mom was just a few years younger and in no way should be out driving around by feel, in the country.  Amazing, it's like he was in middle school again.

Time Trials with Mass and Momentum.

L.J., standing in the cab of the auger wagon, tunes thumping out the dust, going over the commodity report, taking a sip of tea, when the auto drive was triggered by the harvester and the wagon took off like a jerk.  Auto wagon suspend, and he took over the wheel, slowed down, put the cup in a holder, snapped shut the lid, wiped off his face with the bottom of his shirt and made a wide ark, angling in with the rows, positioning the wagon exactly underneath where the harvesters unfolding auger arm would soon be, auto wagon engage. When both the wagon and the harvester synced speed, the harvester's auger started up with a high raspy sound, multitudes of kernels being forced through the arm by the rotating auger.  Splat, just like a giant bean bag had been pitched into the wagon, made the whole rig whence, and dance a jig till it was too full, and had to sit down for the night.  L.J. turned the cab about ten minutes to right to take a look at dusty gold being barfed out of that tube. Wait for.. last trickle, auto wagon suspend, and take off like a yak out of hell.  Fly down the row at twenty M.P.H. with around forty tons of grain in the back.  At the end, slow, make the turn, hop and bounce until lined up with the end row.

Map Off... Clear Cache

Sat up and looked down the row, a beam of humidity filtered light hit the thermos; a jittery white pro-misted polished stainless steel cylinder in the bottom right peripheral of his anamorphic visual field, cast flickering bright green flashes, burnt out to the point of clipping the bottom of the leaves, overlay on.  Twisted bits of information superimposed on the thicket, identify each hog with banners waving in that breeze that strolled through his mind.  A big letter P expertly built out of the soil: map off... clear cache, stands up, bumps into the hand tow and remembers the race is on.

Good ole corn fed deer.

Dan Hillier was out hunting for our famous G.M.O. corn fed deer and came upon this extraordinary scene.  Baffled as he was, he asked that I - a local inhabitant - should try to clarify what exactly was transpiring in this image he had rendered from memory.  

My reply;  

Dear Mr. Hillier 

   I can only offer a conjecture, a merest speculation - this can only be a one of those superb representatives of  agribusiness, expressing that their particular modified product is was in no way responsible for his unusual antler growth.    

Zid Hedbug