Linear Unthinking -- Ch 1Jean-Marc Lutèce was born some place near Tours in the middle-of-nowhere, France. Born nothing more than a farmer caught in the métayage system, he bent his back and dreamed of much greater things that his simpleton mind could hope to achieve. Upon reaching 16 years of age, he simply left his home and came to England where he taught himself the language and he taught himself the trade of wood-working. And when my father grew tired of his 14 years frittered away in South Hampton, he stowed away on a ship to the new world, lost the accent in his name, and lost his stomach, churning on a ship for several weeks.
He brought nothing with him, yet he was able to promptly fool my Grandfather into thinking that he was a somebody with a future and with a bloodline. Without a penny in his pocket, he married my mother, Louise Endicott. He immediately took to the socialite class, despite contributing nothing. He merely lived, corroding himself into place so he became rusted against Endicott's fo