I hope you are well. I'm still getting used to writing in plain English after so long. (I still dream in Code, though.) 

 

As you may have heard, they gave me a spot on the Memorial Committee, which means endless meetings where only the most ridiculous compromises have any hope of getting approval. And compromises don’t get much more ridiculous than what we've come up with for the Federal Memorial, which is to add 91 days to the calendar. For now we're calling it The New December, which I will admit has a nice ring to it.  

 

On the civic level, there are more modest plans. Actually, I'm thinking of you now because I’m parked on the hill above the part of town you always said was ugly. The buildings are gone and a circular road cuts through the center, doubled by a larger oval path, so it looks like an eye from here. That will be Highland Park's humble memorial to the Great Struggle.

 

The big news is that we're still at a loss as to what to do about the Mixionary Mutations. All that the Genius Kids can tell us is that the WLIR Code has infected the "regular" language, scrambling words, reversing sentences, and generally making a verbal mess. Some people are claiming that it’s affecting their memories, but I have a very hard time believing that. Anyway, today I bought a newspaper and spread it out on my kitchen floor, just to see if I could watch it mutate. An interesting, if terrifying, way to spend an hour.  That's all for now. I know Intercity Mail is still spotty, but if you get this, please send my regards to the crew, and drop a line when you have a chance.

 

Yours,

Samuel Bing

Fol Chen