Penelope Breite, Solutions Manager

Recently Crystore has come under the scrutiny of a bevy of, shall we say, interested parties. There have been containment violations. Our Defense Division was forced to make an emergency release of the Colourmetic Interloping Bridge Translocator. Blue Bridge has made a call to the Varelse Bridge Society to find Skye. And you, dear reader, where are you in all this? It’s taken some time to begin this blog, as until now I’ve been concerned about who would be receiving this information. You, I feel I can trust.


First, I want to say I hope to proliferate mellifluous eunoia for you all and offer encouragement as you carry on the bright torch and continue weaving the tapestry of our collective herstories. You are not alone in this. Least of all you, Skye, whenever you are able to read this. There are lights in the darkness to guide you, to protect you. I'd be willing to bet your Gramma Deborah is one of them. Like you, she's always had special gifts. I knew it from the moment I met her at Big Sur. 

Let me tell you about my daughter, Charlotte. She was named after my mother. Her birth was sometime exactly in the 1970s, after “The Switcheroo,” Deb’s operational name for the stealthy swapping of Octavio's precious “baby.” No, not one of his many unintended offspring (although for him it may as well have been). For someone who longed to transcend the physical, he sure coveted that damned crystal.

Anyways, the more important baby was Charlotte. I used to read storybooks to her, just as my mother did. She loved the one about the spider, and made pink string art to spell words. One of the words made me think of her father and chuckle. Another was a terrific salutation. She was so creative that little one. I knew she’d go places. The places she went, however, were... elsewhere.

But that, my dears, is a bedtime story for another time.

To our Esteemed Guests: You've come a long way to get here, tangling yourselves in countless threads in order to arrive with a modicum of understanding. I'll leave you today with a wish, and a promise. I wish you all the best of luck in your upcoming initiation into The Varelse Bridge Society, and I promise that your patience and diligence will be rewarded with clarity.



"What is the point of all this?" A simple question, but one I constantly return to in challenging times. The question recalls my time in San Francisco in the early 2,000's. This was after Octavio and I had reached a tentative and fragile "reconciliation" over our daughter Charlotte, but before Jejune had gained prominence. 

Three colleagues and I would frequently meet at It's-Tops Coffee Shop on Market Street for drinks and conversation. We all had conflicting feelings about Crystore's upcoming collaboration with Jejune, and we could never seem to reach an agreement over "The Point". Was it a just game? A contest?  An entertainment? A crass marketing campaign? Were we unknowingly entering into a pact with nefarious intentions? Or, as I liked to posit, "What if it's not up to us to decide, what if our dreams will do the work for us?" 

It was there, in that wonderfully ancient coffee shop, I first told the story of the inspiration for my life's work. A story I had kept for myself for decades. A story that was true, and impossible.

In my youth in Indiana, The Paradise Theatre would frequently screen The Wizard of Oz, and although my family could scarcely afford a ticket, I never missed a showing (basement windows and air ducts were just the right size for my tiny frame). At one screening in particular, I was sitting per usual in the back row. Just as Dorothy opened her front door into Oz, I heard a soft, tinkling tap at my feet. I reached down into the dark to discover my mother's heart pendant had fallen from the silver chain I wore around my neck. 

Struggling in the flickering projector light to replace it on its chain, I was perplexed to find that, lo and behold, the pendant was already there, and had never fallen. Yet there it was, an identical pendant in my hand. My first and only thought was, "Poor Penelope, I'll have to return this to her!"

Telling the story out loud for the first time, it suddenly occurred to me it might've actually, in fact, been a dream rather than a memory. Or, for that matter, a recollection of a film or television show featuring that particular event. 

A memory...A dream...An entertainment...Could it have been all three?

It wasn't until recently that my question would be answered. After Crystore Green received the incredible Chimeric Interdimensional Bridge Transponder from Crystore Blue, my research into interpretive dream de-tanglement and triangulation was kicked into high gear. I cannot wait to share the results with you, my dears.  



It's late, my lovelies, and if you're anything like me, this week's hullabaloo with the bees has kept you up at night. So here were are. How about a little bedtime story to help us both wind down?

You could say I was born in Miami or outside Peru. You could say it was at the county fair. My father took me there, along with my two older sisters. There were people and stuffed birds and rocks and things. There were model homes, pickled goods, and livestock rings. I remember a fly with a buzz and a sky with no clouds. The heat was hot and the ground was dry. The air was full of sound.


I remember when we found that strange carnival woman with her own booth far away from all the rest, out near where Jim Bigglesworth was crop-dusting grapes. In this sole little booth, this old woman was commanding such a presence I’d never seen a woman command. I admired her immediately. She was wise and powerful, and generous to share the crystal with people, to see who among us had what it took to be what she called… “chalant.”

As one of the youngest, they let me go early on. I stepped up to the booth looking at this beautiful crystal, and I grasped it hard as I could and focused with all my might. I thought, if I really believed, if I truly truly believed, I could do it! I could say to myself that for the first time I was someone important, someone magical. I would be one of the special ones.

But it barely went up. It was strange. It seemed like only strangers could win.


My father -- Wilbur Breite, Esquire; the proud first man in our family with a degree -- took me by the hand to leave. He explained to me that the game was a lie, a confidence trick. He was, of course, right. It was a game full of lies. And yet years later I would bear the crystal again and know that all those splendiferous lies… were in fact true.


Sometimes I wonder if a cross and a crystal are interchangeable. They can both be unbearably heavy. Sweet dreams, my dears.


Restless night. Had the most vivid dreams! I was driving down a highway just outside of Murphysboro in an old Studebaker, cruising past acres and acres of grapevines. No, that couldn't be. They were most certainly pawpaws. Unless they were apples? Yes, apricots.

It was twilight/sunrise, and as the sun came up/down, all the colors bled from the world. The DJ on the radio announced that Suspicion by Elvis Presley would play next, but when it did the lyrics were completely different than I had remembered. Something about riding a demon current? Disturbing.   

The strangest thing is that when I awoke, I looked online for the lyrics I could remember from the dream, and what I discovered chilled me to my very core. I somehow knew it was a message, a threat. Not just to me, but to all of us.

Lock your refrigerators, my loves.

This is a moment in my life that should've been heralded by fanfare. I've waited for years to triumphantly reveal the findings of my life's work. Instead, here I am desperately trying to convey it as quickly as possible. Our time is short! 


As you're well aware, the containment breach has been spreading exponentially throughout not only our bridge, but Blue and Red  Bridge as well. What I'm about to tell you is crucial to the survival of all three.

We are bound together in a way that transcends time and space. I have peered across Bridges and witnessed the most incredible things! On one Bridge, I'm a retired children's book author living in Florida (Penelope). On another, I'm a high school teacher unhappily married to the principal of Derry High (Penelope). Through the use of Blue Bridge's CIBT, the Transponder has allowed the three of us to become quite close.


What I've discovered is remarkable. When I've shared certain memories from my childhood, Penelope has recalled those same memories as vivid dreams from her teens, which has often been followed by Penelope  showing us a children's book she wrote in adulthood that conveys the exact same impossibly shared experience.


Thanks to Allison Buzzcock's Tri-Bridge Initiative, I've been able to compile dozens and dozens of these cross-bridge trifectas. In every single grouping, one person's memories are another person's dreams are another person's art are another person's memory, etc. The cycle repeats endlessly across all three Bridges! At last, my long held theory of Interpretive Dream Triangulation has been proven!

I don't have time to delve deeper, my dears, but it is CRUCIAL that we pay close attention to our dreams and record them in the coming days. It might be the only way to bring her home, and we need her now more than ever!



I'm ready to tell you about Charlotte now. The results of Skye Varelse's unexpected return to Red Bridge 2015 have reminded me once again that not only are our lives are intertwined across multiple Bridges, but that cycles and events tend to repeat themselves. I can only imagine what Wylie and Allison Buzzcock must be going through on Blue Bridge. Not to mention poor little Zephina! Think of it. Their precious Skye. Here. Now. Twenty years older. Living her new life in a parallel world! The mind reels. 

My hope is that Charlotte's story will give them a modicum of comfort, if not understanding.

In the mid 80's, When Charlotte was nine years old, she went out to the neighborhood ice cream truck and utterly vanished. I was beyond devastated. Eyewitness accounts said of the truck’s advertising that its logo was, “A blue jar or vessel of some kind.” Octavio was behind this. At least that's what I had convinced myself at the time. I didn’t think he ever forgave me for not telling him about Charlotte. Deb told me not to. I agreed. I still don’t regret it.

The waiting years passed and I turned to my research at Crystore, along with my sisters and our new research team with special facilities. In our studies, Charlotte’s words and stories began to crop up, telepathically transmitted like whispers, scattered surges of signals throughout the Sigma Quadrant: “I’m okay Mom... I love you Mom... Sky here is so… Sisters…” A few decades passed with regular messages from her. This image shows a cymatics transmission we received from her in the 90's.

And then, just like that, in exactly the early 2000's she reappeared. She was only 20 years old, as if she had jumped a decade or two of aging. “Much more” she said over tea where I met her in Philly. She had such amazing stories. What she didn’t expect is that I too had some stories, and I am confident that you will gain much from hearing each of our tales, my lovelies.

Peru may be an old circus town, but Crystore’s Miami County facilities have more than three rings under the “big top.” Care for a backstage pass?

What an incredible reunion! I apologize for my absence. I've just returned from a trip to San Francisco, assisting in analyzing and  documenting the incredible amount of Bridge Flow surrounding the Halleck Street mural. After all these years, my trip presented an opportunity to reunite with three of my beloved former colleagues at our favorite stomping ground, It's Tops Coffee Shop!

I can't tell you how wonderful it was to catch up on the adventures of Fred, Pete and Simon! Such incredibly divergent paths our lives have taken, yet we still share the same passion for knowledge and creativity that brought us together in the 70's.

Inevitably, our conversation turned to Octavio, and his whereabouts since his mysterious disappearance back in 2014. As if on cue, Simon presented us with a unique find, the journal of Octavio Coleman!

I present to you a passage that will begin to shed some light on not only the man, but perhaps on his current location. As Octavio would often say, "A theatre is a liminal space where one may either confront or dance with their shadow self." I believe we're VERY close to finding out how.

...When things became too intolerable at home, as you might imagine, they often did, I escaped to Paradise. Our local movie theater was called The Paradise, right down West End Avenue at Crawford.


It was at the Paradise that I first discovered the magic of light and shadow, the true power of a theatre to transport a person wherever they needed to go. 

My quote-father-unquote, became Willy Loman without the sweetness. Allied Radio wanted to jump on the television bandwagon. They hired him to be a traveling salesman selling TV parts through the entire Midwest. 

I secretly think he took the job to get away from us. At least when he had sold cheap Chinese ice cream machines, he was home. I didn’t want either parent near me.

In Chicago, it was as if I landed in Oz and was invited to hang out behind the curtain. I was about eight. The show was ‘Super Circus'. It was exactly that.


After sending countless jokes to be read on air, it didn’t take long before I became known to the performers and crew. I'll never forget the joke that was finally selected to be read by none other than 

Scampy The Clown himself!


“How many cavemen did it take to change a lightbulb?" (pause) "None. Thomas Edison had them arrested for copyright infringement!”

After a few letters, I was invited to come to the studio for a personalized backstage tour, and a front row seat at a live broadcast. Live meant alive. Performing for millions who saw it happen as they were doing it. 

Through pure chutzpah and innocence, without knowing it, I had gained access to the creative heart of Chicago. The place was nothing less than a magic show. And I was invited backstage, allowed to peek into all the nooks and crannies.

I knew I was home. Family home meant nothing. This was it! I found somewhere to escape. And I loved every minute.

I never wanted to leave. And, in a way, I never have.


Gentle reader, Upper Management has informed us that they have had to depart for Germany to handle some wayward affairs. It’s uncertain how long they will be away, but in their absence, I have been entrusted with the Upper Management of Crystore. If you have any needs in the meantime, as usual you can address them to Upper Management in whatever media form you communicate. I may also use this opportunity to indulge in some more personal contact and discussion with our beloved active members on the server and to find out more about this Varlese Bridge Society and their exciting operations!


Be aware that I am new to some of this Discordian technology… Is that what they call it? I will be doing my best to answer you as I am able. Recent bridge tears and shifting have required me to be more mindful of my health, so I’ve been getting more sleep with fantastic dreams. I dreamt I was in a city, but due to a plague everyone was staying indoors. I felt grateful, but it was eerie walking through the empty city. And then there was a person, wearing a creative mask, leaving behind a tiny… clue? I looked closer to see… I don’t remember the rest, but I believe a fantastic jaunt ensued... 


He was always going on about returning to his "Paradise". To be quite honest, I couldn't get him to shut up about it. For him it was an enchanted place where memory and imagination coalesce. If there was one thing Octavio was obsessed with more than anything else, it was the power of dreams. That liminal dimension outside of time and space, where chaos and creativity often battle for supremacy. 


He believed this special place was not only accessible via the subconscious, he believed there was a way to physically transport oneself to this realm. Up until the return of my dear, sweet Charlotte, I would've called him insane for believing so. She would simply call it, "Cyan Bridge."

Ever the intrepid entrepreneur, many of you know Octavio owned a small theatre chain spanning the U.S. and Canada, with locations in San Francisco, Philadelphia, New York, Chicago, and Toronto. Their curious interior design were all inspired by a theatre I myself am quite familiar with, The Paradise Theatre in Peru, Indiana.


He would often brag about his theatres as his "memory palaces." I am now convinced he achieved his goal of returning to his Paradise, but whether he went to confront or dance with his shadow self is up for speculation.

Two items of note: Each and every theatre he owned is fitted with a chandelier you will probably all recognize. Second, His theatres are present on multiple Bridges, and are connected in a most peculiar and fascinating way. As a wise wolf once said, "A slide can be a bridge (woof)."


Cyan is a lovely color, my dears, perhaps I should take you there. Would tomorrow morning work for you? One can only dream...


Do you have probs up in your intarwebz? Does the exoapiarian menace swarm in when you least expect it? What can be said to fuzz their heads into cool cats and chill their winged arthropod fervor?


Introducing the Chemical Infusion Bee Tripper. Give them a whiff of this dank. It’s as easy as: puff, puff, pass, and watch these kids mellow and gently return on impossible wings to that crazy dimension from whence they originated. We swear dude, this is the real real... furrealz. Zzzzzzzzaaaa...

Dictation taken verbatim from a marketing intern who went to a festival three weeks ago and hasn’t returned yet.


Crystore is proud to announce the launch of one of our most innovative products to date. The Crystore Bee/Butterfly Interspecies Translator, CBBIT (aka b2bt). Each CBBIT is custom built to fit your needs by a team of international mouse-lemur scientists. Why mouse-lemurs you ask? Because a mouse-lemur possesses the tiny hands that are essential to the production of these micro-translators.


We currently are unable to tell you exactly how it works. Because of an unforeseen event, the b2bt became our top priority, and our team was unable to finish the Lemur-to-Human-Translator.


While we don’t speak lemur, we can assure you, it works!

Lemur ask you a question...

Have you ever wanted to talk to a mouse-lemur? Our team of scientists have finally finished their translator. What does it do you ask? It translates from Mouse-Lemur to American-English.





That's it.



Having bore the crystal as a child (NC Strata GRTA), Penelope Breite began an internship with Margaret Howe researching interspecies communication in Miami County, Indiana. There she met our brilliant head researcher Peter Tursiops. With his assistance in crystal analysis and product design, Crystore gained prominence in the 70's through discreet acquisitions and unique solutions.


Over time, it was decided that to prevent sophist incursion, research would be moved to a high security location outside Peru, Indiana where Crystore’s facility resides today. Secluded there, they have made great strides in cetacean-human communications, interdimensional defense apparatuses, superior frozen confectionery oscillators, and most recently, interpretive dream de-tanglement and triangulation.


Crystore has recently become aware of the chromo-quadratic tesselated diaspora or “interdimensional bridges.” Some have required containment while others have been indispensable allies in our combined efforts.


The Varelse Bridge Society will be a wonderful development from these communications. We look forward to working with you all!

The following excerpt was taken from an interview with Octavio Coleman, Esq. in Playboy Magazine, Jan, 2014 

People mostly know you from Jejune, but you're also quite the entrepreneur. There's Kung-Pow Kosher, your Chinese restaurant chain, Party Place mask shops, your international Paradise Movie Theater franchise, not to mention Crystore, Inc. Which one are you most proud of?  

You're asking me to name my favorite child, an impossible task! Although I must admit that of all of them, Crystore holds a special place in my heart. 

What made you decide to drop litigation against Penelope Breite? She admitted to stealing the crystal that lead to Crystore's rise in the 70's. She helped to create an entire industry without you.

As always, cooler heads prevailed. Penelope's intentions back then were pure, but misguided. She never could've known the true power of that crystal. Once she realized it, she decided, of her own free will, to return it to its rightful owner. 

It seems to have been a fairly tumultuous collaboration. 

Like any elevator, we have our ups and downs. Penelope has done a wonderful job running this company with me, and I'm excited to see how she'll collaborate with our new, incoming CEO.

Wait, you're stepping down?

More like transporting out. Despite my best efforts, I'm not getting any younger. I'd like to keep this buisness in the family, so I've got a certain young man in my sights. Unfortunately I can't elaborate more. Mum's the word, as they say.

There's something I've been dying to ask you. Why "The Esquire"? Don't tell me you're a lawyer, too!

That all depends on which Bridge you're talking about. On this particular one? No.

Excuse me? Bridge?

Let's just say that if I was a lawyer, I'd sure as hell be a Defense attorney. You don't want to meet The Prosecutor, he's relentless.

I'm not sure I follow-

-This interview is over. Stop the recording devices. Good day to you, sir.


Violation: Penal Colony 59.1-03

To whom it may concern:

It has come to our attention that your company, Crystore Inc. has utilized Various Assets belonging to (REDACTED) without the express permission of (REDACTED).

We are the proprietors of all copyright in Various Assets (The "Work"). We had reserved all rights in the Work, which was first published on April 1st, 2016. You neither requested nor received permission to use our Work, therefore your unauthorized copying and use of our copyrighted Work constitutes copyright infringement in violation of the United States copyright laws.

We hereby demand that you, within five (5) days of this letter:

-Remove all infringing content.

-Destroy all physical and electronic copies.

-Notify us in writing when these tasks have been completed.

-Permanently cease the use, publication and distribution of our copyrighted material.

-Kneel before us in subservience.

If you do not cease and desist within the above stated time period, we will be forced to take appropriate legal action against you and will seek all available damages and remedies.

In Dark Sophism,

LWAP Legal Team