Hoo, hoo, look who has wandered in from the intellectual darkness once again. Hello, pitiable reader! Come in! Come into my hovel of repute! How have you been? Busying yourself with drooling and exuding corrupt odors, no doubt. Contemptible. Anyway, allow me to lay out some newspaper so that you may sprawl your filthy body upon my vestibule floor.

Your unsolicited arrival must mean it’s time to talk dimensions again. You know, I’ve been thinking about that. Your species’ exaltation of the lower rungs of the dimensional order reeks of Bolshevism on high. Believe me, “comrade,” if you were ever to accrue the necessary intellectual capital, you would realize that the higher classes of the dimensional order provide a much purer understanding of our relationship with the multiverse. Alas, your meager minds are forever doomed to slum it in the “working class” of the first four dimensions, that proverbial “meat-packing district” of reality, as I freely exert my intellectual hegemony from the heights of the fifth dimension and beyond!

I digress. Incorporating such analogies probably only serves to hasten the melt of your brain from out of your ears. I understand that the impress of my intellect must seem austere and brutal to you. I understand that the furnishings of my insight —

What’s this!? Did you just release your bowels upon my vestibule floor? Abhorrent.

I don’t know how I endure you. By now, my alacrity toward you and your kind must be considered charity of the highest order, even almsgiving. No doubt I shall one day be canonized as Saint Know, equal to the Apostles, teacher of those beyond contempt. My feast day shall be October fourth because that is also National Cinnamon Bun Day, in Sweden.

Anyway, your rank aroma is starting to overwhelm my hovel. Let’s get on. I shall now cast the lamplight of insight in your direction, even though it will meet only unrelenting dimness. I shall now tell you about the seventh dimension, as you continue to lay recumbent, salivating freely.

In our last conversation I told you that the sixth spatial dimensional was perpendicular to the fifth spatial dimension, which was perpendicular to the fourth spatial dimension, which was perpendicular to the third spatial dimension, which was perpendicular to the second spatial dimension, which was perpendicular to the first spatial dimension. Since you apparently neither discern a pattern emerging, nor understand what “perpendicular” means, I will now attempt a different approach.

Begin by thinking of the most complicated thing you can possibly think of. No, that won’t do.

More complicated. Okay. Now think of something even more complicated that. Now multiply that first complication (no, not your very first discarded thought, but, rather, the second which I prompted you for) by the second, even greater, complication. Now, take this resultant level of complication and multiply it by the collective complication of all other possible complicated things, including those which you cannot even conceive of. Got it? You now have a conception of complication equal to my most uncomplicated thought. This is why you will never understand the seventh dimension like I do. This I why you’re destitute . . .

Oh my. Please stop burnishing your unwashed genitals. Deplorable.

This is tiresome. With each word I speak the contours of your empty expression hang ever deeper. Every time I think your gormless countenance could not possibly grow any more gormless, it does, indeed, grow more gormless. I am now convinced that my decision to extend my thought franchise to your species was a terrible mistake. Heave yourself from my vestibule floor and abdicate my presence at once.