"Psst, c'mere," said the shifty-eyed man wearing a long black trenchcoat, as he beckoned me off the rainy street into a damp dark alley.
I followed."
What are you selling?"
I asked."
Geometrical algebra drugs."
"Huh!?"
"Geometry drugs.
Ya got your uppers, your downers, your sidewaysers, your inside-outers..."
"Stop right there," I interrupted.
"I've never heard of inside-outers."
"Oh, man, you'll love 'em.
Makes you feel like M.C.
ever-lovin' Escher on a particularly weird day."
"Go on..."
"OK, your inside-outers, your arbitrary bilinear mappers, and here, heh, here are the best ones," he said, pulling out a large clear bottle of orange pills."
What are those, then?"
I asked."
Givens transformers.
They'll rotate you about more planes than you even knew existed."
"Sounds gross.
What about those bilinear mappers?"
"There's a whole variety of them.
Here's one you'll love -- they call it 'One Over Z' on the street.
Take one of these little bad boys and you'll be on speaking terms with the Point at Infinity."
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