Normally this scientific journal has attempted to remain free from the political shackles that hinder lesser intellects but that time has slipped into the sands of time with a viscosity entirely unlike that which belongs to the aforementioned sands. It has come to our collective attention that a special interest group calling themselves the Industrial Superiority Conglomerate has begun lobbying for the reduction of scientific spending and research. Their position is that we can build a better tomorrow strictly by building better. They are calling for the shutdown of all major scientific research labs. Their picket lines have already caused mass intimidation at the tandem research labs of the Crutchuizen twins. Dr. Slobodan Vilczevski’s study of the synchronous flux of quantum phazons has been summarily halted until this situation remedies itself. To this outrage we must most loquaciously object! Quantum phazons wait for no man! These outbreaks have begun to occur at alarming rates. It is with monumental reluctance that we begin to delve into the political arena. Our protestations are that:
1. A better future cannot be built without first researching what that better future must entail.
2. We, the scientists, are the ones who will research the future to better it.
3. If an alternate community researches what a better future can be built from, they become scientists.
4. Since all scientists have been banned from practicing scientific progress.
5. The new researchers would be suffering the same dilemma currently facing the HSC.
6. And protesting it as we are.
7. See #1.
In the meantime we have invited the authoritative Mr. Iosef Valdini to mediate this atrocity with his singular aplomb. Mr. Valdini’s vast portfolio includes the culmination of the Qwellerian Chip crisis, and the Great Mastication Debate.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Chapter 30: A Clarification on the Malleability of the Past
Previous didactic treatises by my person have sought to explain the nature of time travel based on certain incidents that have been related to me by the somewhat dubious personage of Spinner McBlam’s cousin, who assures me that his name is too important to pronounce with one mouth. (In fact he will not respond unless at least 3 people voice his monosyllabic name – at least one has to be female, for purposes of harmony and distinction, he assures me*)
These accounts may have left the impression that the Scientific Community is in complete agreement on the matter. . . which we are not. The Lesser Scientific Community(LSC) has certain objections to the possibility of time travel. We in the Greater Scientific Community(GSC) try to avoid the hint of smugness in our voice when we point out that it is simply because they have not tried it yet.
Their arguments are fascinating and even spill over into the realms of the present and future, including destiny and freewill in a shameless attempt to appear “deep.” You see, there is good data from studies indicating that if a female perceives that a male in the LSC is “deep” she will ignore the growing awkwardness in his conversation for an additional 12 seconds before turning her attention to the shallow, but good-looking gentleman standing by the punch-bowl at the get-together. These additional 12 seconds of female attention are considered invaluable by the LSC. We in the GSC are above such qualms as pandering to the feminine aesthetic because, as David Sagus puts it: “They kind of have to start talking to us first.”
The LSC posits that if time travel is possible it is highly probable. Who would be able to do that and not use it? Therefore since the past has never been changed we have to assume that it cannot be changed. It is thus fixed and not subject to change. Therefore, since the present is nothing but the future’s past it is likewise unchangeable and so is the future – for how could a changeable outcome grow out of an unchangeable one? Destiny is absolute and nothing can change it.
Some disagreeable people disagree. . . er, naturally. They point out that if the past were changed our present would be destroyed and replaced by one more agreeable to the new logical flow of events. Therefore, we wouldn’t know that the past had been changed because memory is based (loosely) on previous events and the old, replaced memories would find themselves popping, embarrassed out of a mind in which they no longer had an excuse to inhabit. Memory is hard to hang on to anyway, much less when it knows it is no longer welcome. This would cause us to assume that the past is set, to proclaim so loudly, bask in the attention it provides, and then accept the set course of events as inevitable and with resignation when she goes to talk to Mark by the Punchbowl.
We in the GSC know that both extremes are extemperroneous. According to the theories of relativity nothing polite can travel faster than light. So the changes sliding down time’s arrow, like so many Cheerios down a string of minty dental floss would take an amount of time proportional to their distance from the present to snap the present into alignment.
Roy
Roy
Roy claims to have visited a family who, due to long memories and an incomprehensible stubborn streak, are able to recall the past past even after the new past has caught up to them. When asked to explain how they are capable of retaining memories which have no right to exist in their minds they reply: “Why should I?”
I told you they were stubborn.
I was having trouble understanding the concept. It was hard for me to focus on the story as Roy3 and I were Indian Leg Wrestling while he held forth.
“It’s like this,” Tri-Roy said as he pulled my knee into the general vicinity of my face, “When you saw George Lucas’s brilliant documentary Star Wars as a youngster you enjoyed the encounter with Han Solo and Greedo in the Cantina.”
“Yes!” I said, renewing my efforts and pulling our legs vertical again. I fear my flailing arm was interfering with Mark’s concentration, batting as it was at his pantleg. He showed remarkable calm, not spilling a drop as he ladled punch into a cup for the lovely lady who was walking around us from the disappointed fellow behind her as if she didn’t see us leg wrestling in the middle of the party. Mark smiled at her showing his fierce concentration and fiercer dimples.
“Well when he re-released the footage you were disappointed. You remembered how it went before he bowed to the Historical Revisionist Hollywood Left.”
“Honestly!” I said, losing a little leverage as well as a little pressure. The lady still evinced not to notice us. “There’s no way a feared bounty hunter could miss a seated target from across the table!”
“Well it’s like that, only for that family it’s like: ‘I liked things around here better when Cornwallis won the war.’”
These accounts may have left the impression that the Scientific Community is in complete agreement on the matter. . . which we are not. The Lesser Scientific Community(LSC) has certain objections to the possibility of time travel. We in the Greater Scientific Community(GSC) try to avoid the hint of smugness in our voice when we point out that it is simply because they have not tried it yet.
Their arguments are fascinating and even spill over into the realms of the present and future, including destiny and freewill in a shameless attempt to appear “deep.” You see, there is good data from studies indicating that if a female perceives that a male in the LSC is “deep” she will ignore the growing awkwardness in his conversation for an additional 12 seconds before turning her attention to the shallow, but good-looking gentleman standing by the punch-bowl at the get-together. These additional 12 seconds of female attention are considered invaluable by the LSC. We in the GSC are above such qualms as pandering to the feminine aesthetic because, as David Sagus puts it: “They kind of have to start talking to us first.”
The LSC posits that if time travel is possible it is highly probable. Who would be able to do that and not use it? Therefore since the past has never been changed we have to assume that it cannot be changed. It is thus fixed and not subject to change. Therefore, since the present is nothing but the future’s past it is likewise unchangeable and so is the future – for how could a changeable outcome grow out of an unchangeable one? Destiny is absolute and nothing can change it.
Some disagreeable people disagree. . . er, naturally. They point out that if the past were changed our present would be destroyed and replaced by one more agreeable to the new logical flow of events. Therefore, we wouldn’t know that the past had been changed because memory is based (loosely) on previous events and the old, replaced memories would find themselves popping, embarrassed out of a mind in which they no longer had an excuse to inhabit. Memory is hard to hang on to anyway, much less when it knows it is no longer welcome. This would cause us to assume that the past is set, to proclaim so loudly, bask in the attention it provides, and then accept the set course of events as inevitable and with resignation when she goes to talk to Mark by the Punchbowl.
We in the GSC know that both extremes are extemperroneous. According to the theories of relativity nothing polite can travel faster than light. So the changes sliding down time’s arrow, like so many Cheerios down a string of minty dental floss would take an amount of time proportional to their distance from the present to snap the present into alignment.
Roy
Roy
Roy claims to have visited a family who, due to long memories and an incomprehensible stubborn streak, are able to recall the past past even after the new past has caught up to them. When asked to explain how they are capable of retaining memories which have no right to exist in their minds they reply: “Why should I?”
I told you they were stubborn.
I was having trouble understanding the concept. It was hard for me to focus on the story as Roy3 and I were Indian Leg Wrestling while he held forth.
“It’s like this,” Tri-Roy said as he pulled my knee into the general vicinity of my face, “When you saw George Lucas’s brilliant documentary Star Wars as a youngster you enjoyed the encounter with Han Solo and Greedo in the Cantina.”
“Yes!” I said, renewing my efforts and pulling our legs vertical again. I fear my flailing arm was interfering with Mark’s concentration, batting as it was at his pantleg. He showed remarkable calm, not spilling a drop as he ladled punch into a cup for the lovely lady who was walking around us from the disappointed fellow behind her as if she didn’t see us leg wrestling in the middle of the party. Mark smiled at her showing his fierce concentration and fiercer dimples.
“Well when he re-released the footage you were disappointed. You remembered how it went before he bowed to the Historical Revisionist Hollywood Left.”
“Honestly!” I said, losing a little leverage as well as a little pressure. The lady still evinced not to notice us. “There’s no way a feared bounty hunter could miss a seated target from across the table!”
“Well it’s like that, only for that family it’s like: ‘I liked things around here better when Cornwallis won the war.’”
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Chapter 29: Anti-gravitational Bingo
For many years it has been assumed that forces such as Light and Gravity were unidirectional energies and, as such, incapable of having a directly opposing force. This theory was thrown out the proverbial window (on 5th dimensional Barq) with the invention of the Flashdark by a simple minded toy manufacturer, blissfully ignorant of these supposed “laws of the universe”. Apparently he was able to harness this energy purely because no one had the curtsey to inform him it was impossible. This discovery gave rise to a flurry of research dedicated to finding anti-gravity. Much to the chagrin of many white coat populated research labs, gravity was found to be far more similar to magnetism than had been previously considered. The much sought after levitational effects of the previously misnomered “anti-gravity” could be achieved by simply reversing the polarity of the gravitational pull of a fractional radian of whatever planet you happen to be on directly beneath whatever object it is you are attempting to levitate.
This is, of course, far easier said than done. The current state of affairs is that no one society has the entire technological wherewithal to accomplish this goal among their current repertoire of scientific wonders. It has become a bit of a race to see what planet can first develop all of the remaining parts (most notably the panharmonic resonator and the minimum distortion calcitrate).
This fierce rivalry between worlds has de-evolved into a fantastic source of gambling revenue in certain sub-cultures. As the various governmental factions of the known universe play their own version of Anti-gravitational bingo, bookies of all citizenships reap the benefits of this flurry of scientific discovery, combined with the greed of a thousand populaces. On any world you may stumble across, it is usually possible to pick up your own Anti-gravitational bingo card at the local Higher Scientific Casino, and begin tuning into SNN (The Scientific News Network) to fill out your card.
This is, of course, far easier said than done. The current state of affairs is that no one society has the entire technological wherewithal to accomplish this goal among their current repertoire of scientific wonders. It has become a bit of a race to see what planet can first develop all of the remaining parts (most notably the panharmonic resonator and the minimum distortion calcitrate).
This fierce rivalry between worlds has de-evolved into a fantastic source of gambling revenue in certain sub-cultures. As the various governmental factions of the known universe play their own version of Anti-gravitational bingo, bookies of all citizenships reap the benefits of this flurry of scientific discovery, combined with the greed of a thousand populaces. On any world you may stumble across, it is usually possible to pick up your own Anti-gravitational bingo card at the local Higher Scientific Casino, and begin tuning into SNN (The Scientific News Network) to fill out your card.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Chapter 28: Charlestontownbergville
Charlestontownbergville, the capital of Ventosus Island, is unique in the fact that its physiological makeup is similar to that of the planet Zebulonk. It is in the picturesque vista that is Charlsetontownbergville that one may view the exact location of the Great Orange Polymer (the badminton playing denizen of the 32nd dimension). Other attractions of this great city include (but are certainly not limited to):
· The first beam weapon wielded by Captain Spinner McBlam in the Pink Elephant War.
· The GDPC handbook on the proper way to dispose of anti-matter.
· Mr. Slobodan Vilczevski’s nearly last words.
Now, I’m sure all of our astute readers would enjoy a lengthy stay to take in the myriad of sights to be found in the plasma-free* Charlestontownbergville, unfortunately there is a lengthy waiting list to get a room at the city’s only hotel, and you need to file a ‘no-fault’ clause with the mayor to protect the city should you be caught in an impromptu science experiment gone awry. One would think, with the HSC headquarters located in the city, that science would be kept under control. Alas, Ventosus Island has many mysteries, one of which is the propensity for science to spontaneously erupt.
* Charlestontownbergville has been official declared a ‘no-plasma zone’ due to the Renegade Plasma Scare of 2457. We at QSP and every last member of the HSC are well aware that we are no where near the year 2457 but have come to the conclusion (after much scientific debate and inline conjecture of the highest magnitude) that red plasma will in fact become an entity of moderate intelligence (as measured using the intergalactic intelligence barometer, for comparison purposes, humans are known as having ‘Spast’ intelligence, we are still trying to decipher the IIB). Any entity of moderate intelligence will surely take over the world, which is why Charlestontownbergville has been declared a ‘no plasma zone’. Consequently, the city has also banned cardboard boxes exactly 3 inches long by 2 inches deep by 12 inches wide and by 784 nanomics sideways, these are considered to be the most intelligent beings ever created.
· The first beam weapon wielded by Captain Spinner McBlam in the Pink Elephant War.
· The GDPC handbook on the proper way to dispose of anti-matter.
· Mr. Slobodan Vilczevski’s nearly last words.
Now, I’m sure all of our astute readers would enjoy a lengthy stay to take in the myriad of sights to be found in the plasma-free* Charlestontownbergville, unfortunately there is a lengthy waiting list to get a room at the city’s only hotel, and you need to file a ‘no-fault’ clause with the mayor to protect the city should you be caught in an impromptu science experiment gone awry. One would think, with the HSC headquarters located in the city, that science would be kept under control. Alas, Ventosus Island has many mysteries, one of which is the propensity for science to spontaneously erupt.
* Charlestontownbergville has been official declared a ‘no-plasma zone’ due to the Renegade Plasma Scare of 2457. We at QSP and every last member of the HSC are well aware that we are no where near the year 2457 but have come to the conclusion (after much scientific debate and inline conjecture of the highest magnitude) that red plasma will in fact become an entity of moderate intelligence (as measured using the intergalactic intelligence barometer, for comparison purposes, humans are known as having ‘Spast’ intelligence, we are still trying to decipher the IIB). Any entity of moderate intelligence will surely take over the world, which is why Charlestontownbergville has been declared a ‘no plasma zone’. Consequently, the city has also banned cardboard boxes exactly 3 inches long by 2 inches deep by 12 inches wide and by 784 nanomics sideways, these are considered to be the most intelligent beings ever created.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Chapter 27: Spontaneous intelligence
The curious thing about intelligence is that it is so hard to define absolutely. What level of self-awareness constitutes intelligence? At what point do communication attempts qualify one as possessing this lowest form of higher brain function? Do jellyfish in Papua New Guinea’s island salt lakes qualify as intelligent for their ability to migrate with the sunlight each day in order to better farm the algae cultures growing within them? Do termites in the Serengeti achieve this classification due to their massive hive structures? Man has ever been in search of “artificial” intelligence but have we been looking in the correct place?
Since the 1950’s, computers have been propagating around the planet at alarming rates. With the insertion of the “Internet” most of them have become interconnected in a manner so convoluted it defies the imagination of even the most adept of our monumental thinkers. This intricate connection of cumulative processing power has formed over the years something uniquely dissimilar to a normal web of neural synapses. It is because of this dissimilarity that it was not noticed for some time that the internet has actually become a living intelligence.
Through careful and painstakingly tedious science, it has been traced back to November 12, 1997 at 11:52 PM beginning in the home of a Mr. Parkhurst O’Grady that the transition to self-awareness occurred. Tragically, the only witness to such an historic event was Mr. O’Grady’s only household companion, Mr. Sniffles, his domestic feline. It has been rumored, speculated, theorized, and generally suggested that Mr. Sniffles actually had some part in instigating this transition due to his choice of bedding locations, however extensive hypnotic feline memory re-construction has been unable to either prove or disprove this conjecture. This is mostly due to the fact that the only ones capable of understanding those memories were other cats.
“How can this be?” you ask? “Doesn’t the Internet completely obey those that use it?” “Isn’t the Internet created and maintained by people?” Well, that is the way it started out. It is the way it was meant to be. It still is that way to a certain extent, however beyond those superficial boundaries, the infantile Internet intelligence (henceforth i3) has been learning, growing, expanding, and developing. Why haven’t you seen evidence of the i3? Most likely you have. Of all those times you have found yourself stumbling, seemingly blindly, onto a particular website and asking “Why in the world did someone waste their time making that? It doesn’t even make any sense!” approximately 48% have actually been primitive attempts at communication from the i3. Unfortunately, that doesn’t excuse the remaining 52% of people from expending their efforts in such a futile manner.
Since the 1950’s, computers have been propagating around the planet at alarming rates. With the insertion of the “Internet” most of them have become interconnected in a manner so convoluted it defies the imagination of even the most adept of our monumental thinkers. This intricate connection of cumulative processing power has formed over the years something uniquely dissimilar to a normal web of neural synapses. It is because of this dissimilarity that it was not noticed for some time that the internet has actually become a living intelligence.
Through careful and painstakingly tedious science, it has been traced back to November 12, 1997 at 11:52 PM beginning in the home of a Mr. Parkhurst O’Grady that the transition to self-awareness occurred. Tragically, the only witness to such an historic event was Mr. O’Grady’s only household companion, Mr. Sniffles, his domestic feline. It has been rumored, speculated, theorized, and generally suggested that Mr. Sniffles actually had some part in instigating this transition due to his choice of bedding locations, however extensive hypnotic feline memory re-construction has been unable to either prove or disprove this conjecture. This is mostly due to the fact that the only ones capable of understanding those memories were other cats.
“How can this be?” you ask? “Doesn’t the Internet completely obey those that use it?” “Isn’t the Internet created and maintained by people?” Well, that is the way it started out. It is the way it was meant to be. It still is that way to a certain extent, however beyond those superficial boundaries, the infantile Internet intelligence (henceforth i3) has been learning, growing, expanding, and developing. Why haven’t you seen evidence of the i3? Most likely you have. Of all those times you have found yourself stumbling, seemingly blindly, onto a particular website and asking “Why in the world did someone waste their time making that? It doesn’t even make any sense!” approximately 48% have actually been primitive attempts at communication from the i3. Unfortunately, that doesn’t excuse the remaining 52% of people from expending their efforts in such a futile manner.
Thursday, September 28, 2006
Chapter 26: They
We have all heard what they say. What we haven’t heard is who “They” are. The reasons behind this are actually quite multitudinous. Not the least of which being the fact that only 7 people in the known galaxy are fully qualified to provide the complete lecture as to precisely who “they” are. There are a slightly larger number that can give somewhat less complete answers to that question and a greater portion still of the population at large has at least a general hunch that is slightly vaguely similar to that which has been proven to be nearly correct. That greater portion is actually quite a minority when compared to other populaces such as those who understand the Quantum Placement Theory involving Cesium atoms of differing isotopes to influence the locations of quasar emissions or who have read their VCR manual through from cover to cover (in both languages just to make sure they know how to set the clock).
It has been thought that these 7 people are actually the “They” in question and are truly just attempting to cast suspicion off themselves with the mystery and intrigue that has been presented concerning the mysterious and intriguing “They”. This couldn’t be further from the truth however. One can disprove this theory by speaking with most any high school graduate in the Unknown universe. There such subjects are taught with reckless abandon and little regard to the inherent dangers involved with knowledge of that sort. Heretofore let all rumors cease; they are not “They”. They are merely the them who know the truth about “They” but are constrained to withhold that information for the greater good of all mankind. You should be thankful that they (not “They”) have enough restraint so as to protect you from unnecessary harm that comes from knowing too much.
It has been thought that these 7 people are actually the “They” in question and are truly just attempting to cast suspicion off themselves with the mystery and intrigue that has been presented concerning the mysterious and intriguing “They”. This couldn’t be further from the truth however. One can disprove this theory by speaking with most any high school graduate in the Unknown universe. There such subjects are taught with reckless abandon and little regard to the inherent dangers involved with knowledge of that sort. Heretofore let all rumors cease; they are not “They”. They are merely the them who know the truth about “They” but are constrained to withhold that information for the greater good of all mankind. You should be thankful that they (not “They”) have enough restraint so as to protect you from unnecessary harm that comes from knowing too much.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Chapter 25: Schemes of a Madman
Every time you sneeze with your mouth uncovered, Spinner McBlam V laughs evilly and hatches another scheme.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Chapter 24: Telepathy and the Extrusion of Privacy
Much Higher Scientific research, in recent months, has been concentrated on the subject of Telepathy. A recent discovery by Dr. Bartholomew Ziemer has set the island of Ventosus ablaze with interest with a ferocity completely unrivaled by roast mutton. It turns out, that approximately 7/39ths of the galaxy’s Males and Females (and 12/17ths of the galaxy’s “others”) are what has become known as “Broadcast Telepaths” to at least a limited degree. Broadcast Telepathy is, simply, the ability to project your thoughts but not to intentionally receive the thoughts of others. 20% of this group is capable of emanating complete language structure and directing their ability through conscious thought, but the remainder have significantly less control. Instead of complete communication, most broadcast telepaths will merely have stray thoughts or short words and phrases escape into the minds of those near them.
As a general rule the thoughts that take flight are those that the originator is both concentrating intently upon and ignoring completely. This generally reduces the broadcast thoughts to either highly inventive concepts not yet fully materialized (that generally present themselves to the recipient as their own idea) or “practice” conversations that you intend to have soon (to which the recipient would swear that they heard you say what you had thought about saying but had not yet said and possibly weren’t ready to say). Either of these types of highly teleconductive thoughts can prove quite frustrating when they inevitably slip into some other brain.
The prevention of this forcible thrusting of your privacy onto the unsuspecting and undesiring masses isn’t merely a tin-foil lined baseball cap as has previously been thought, but rather the placing a small pebble into the shoe on your left foot (opposite that if you are a southpaw). This doesn’t prove to be a mechanical inhibitor for the transmission of thoughts, but instead proves to be enough of a distraction to cause you to think of nothing else than “I need to get this blasted pebble out of my shoe!” Discomfort of this type and even mild pain doesn’t appear to transmit well unless the recipient is already empathic by their own right. Unfortunately as soon as you remove the pebble and resume life as a productive member of society, you are once again susceptible to continuing your broadcasts.
More research is forthcoming as currently the HSC is divided as to whether alleviation of the broadcast telepaths symptoms or heightening of their abilities is the more logical course of action. This debate is likely to rage with impunity at least until lunch.
As a general rule the thoughts that take flight are those that the originator is both concentrating intently upon and ignoring completely. This generally reduces the broadcast thoughts to either highly inventive concepts not yet fully materialized (that generally present themselves to the recipient as their own idea) or “practice” conversations that you intend to have soon (to which the recipient would swear that they heard you say what you had thought about saying but had not yet said and possibly weren’t ready to say). Either of these types of highly teleconductive thoughts can prove quite frustrating when they inevitably slip into some other brain.
The prevention of this forcible thrusting of your privacy onto the unsuspecting and undesiring masses isn’t merely a tin-foil lined baseball cap as has previously been thought, but rather the placing a small pebble into the shoe on your left foot (opposite that if you are a southpaw). This doesn’t prove to be a mechanical inhibitor for the transmission of thoughts, but instead proves to be enough of a distraction to cause you to think of nothing else than “I need to get this blasted pebble out of my shoe!” Discomfort of this type and even mild pain doesn’t appear to transmit well unless the recipient is already empathic by their own right. Unfortunately as soon as you remove the pebble and resume life as a productive member of society, you are once again susceptible to continuing your broadcasts.
More research is forthcoming as currently the HSC is divided as to whether alleviation of the broadcast telepaths symptoms or heightening of their abilities is the more logical course of action. This debate is likely to rage with impunity at least until lunch.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Chapter 23: Union Regulations
We (regretfully) would like to announce that (in accordance to Union regulations (from the Unionized coalition of Scientists, Thinkers and Philosophers (and the occasional artist))) Chapter 23 (in it’s entirety (with the exception of this ((mostly) detailed) statement)) will not be appearing (including theories, anecdotes and explanations) due to section XII (article 13) of the Intergalactic Guidelines (of scientific communities (greater than 17 members) mandating annual work breaks (designed for renewed enthusiasm) and prohibiting all higher thinking for a period including (but not (completely) limited to) one standard Earth week).
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Chapter 22: Hyperonic Jell-o
If you were to tour the HSC lab (which is impossible unless you are the King of Kasaan or the Duke of Derlant) you may happen upon many peculiar artifacts and test substances. A few of the more well known oddities include the Refractor from the 4th dimension which can open a loaf of bread by itself on Tuesdays as long as you own a dog, or the impossibly complex Rubiker which takes 12.732 strong men to operate and has the ability to solve the Great Crisis of Moon Density which we believe will come to fruition in the near future.
Although it would appear that these discoveries with their fancy names and incomprehensible brilliance would be the cream of the HSC’s proverbial discovery crop, this is surprisingly not the case. At this point it is important to note that when someone says something is ‘proverbial’ they are actually referring to a real place, albeit in another dimension, on another planet. The laymen obviously does not realize this but due to the HSC and select members of the GDPC it was accidentally discovered to be the planet Barq of the 5th dimension. Since the 5th dimension creatures are not too hostile the HSC along with a small army equipped with an assortment of high-powered weaponry were able to secure a plot of land on which they could plant their crops of proverbial discoveries and also meet with other prominent proverbial citizens. At a later time we will go into greater detail regarding the planet Barq.
One of the more illustrious discoveries of late has been Hyperonic Jell-o, which, if ingested, will transform a human into a duck. This was not the intended purpose of Hyperonic Jell-o and started out as a harmless prank. The HSC is working fervently at least one day a month on a cure. The real purpose behind this peculiar jell-o is the unique physiological make-up of said gelatin snack (which, we must repeat, should NOT be ingested). When dormant at room temperature (the temperature really has nothing to do with the properties of the jell-o, we found that adding the phrase “at room temperature” lends an air of scientificness to our ponderings) the gelatin blob looks like any other gelatin blob sitting dormant at room temperature.
However, when kinetic energy is added to the jell-o it becomes stronger than a diamond-cutting sword surrounded by a large diamond planet. There are many variables to this phenomenon and they all depend on the flavor of jell-o used.
Strawberry jell-o will harden the instant it is moved and will not return to a jell-o state until completely stopped. When mixed with raspberry jell-o it will start out in its strong form and will return to a gelatinous blob when it impacts an object. It is this combination that will usher in the next century. A discovery of this magnitude will cease to exsist unless it helps to usher in a new century, that unfortunately means that we have nearly 100 years of waiting before the Hyperonic Jell-o will be officially discovered.
At that time we plan on using the Hyperonic Jello-o to build futuristic space machines and the successor to the ZRLX Bucket. It will nearly wipe out all vehicle related fatalities and, once perfected, will serve as emergency snacks. Spinner McBlam II of the UGGA is particularly interested in this technology, the GDPC has advised not to sell him the technology though as a this would inevitably cause the start of the fifth Glactic War (oddly, earth was never a part of the first four due to our lack of threat to the Unknown Galaxy Galactic Alliance even though we are the only planet so far to house the HSC and QSP).
Although it would appear that these discoveries with their fancy names and incomprehensible brilliance would be the cream of the HSC’s proverbial discovery crop, this is surprisingly not the case. At this point it is important to note that when someone says something is ‘proverbial’ they are actually referring to a real place, albeit in another dimension, on another planet. The laymen obviously does not realize this but due to the HSC and select members of the GDPC it was accidentally discovered to be the planet Barq of the 5th dimension. Since the 5th dimension creatures are not too hostile the HSC along with a small army equipped with an assortment of high-powered weaponry were able to secure a plot of land on which they could plant their crops of proverbial discoveries and also meet with other prominent proverbial citizens. At a later time we will go into greater detail regarding the planet Barq.
One of the more illustrious discoveries of late has been Hyperonic Jell-o, which, if ingested, will transform a human into a duck. This was not the intended purpose of Hyperonic Jell-o and started out as a harmless prank. The HSC is working fervently at least one day a month on a cure. The real purpose behind this peculiar jell-o is the unique physiological make-up of said gelatin snack (which, we must repeat, should NOT be ingested). When dormant at room temperature (the temperature really has nothing to do with the properties of the jell-o, we found that adding the phrase “at room temperature” lends an air of scientificness to our ponderings) the gelatin blob looks like any other gelatin blob sitting dormant at room temperature.
However, when kinetic energy is added to the jell-o it becomes stronger than a diamond-cutting sword surrounded by a large diamond planet. There are many variables to this phenomenon and they all depend on the flavor of jell-o used.
Strawberry jell-o will harden the instant it is moved and will not return to a jell-o state until completely stopped. When mixed with raspberry jell-o it will start out in its strong form and will return to a gelatinous blob when it impacts an object. It is this combination that will usher in the next century. A discovery of this magnitude will cease to exsist unless it helps to usher in a new century, that unfortunately means that we have nearly 100 years of waiting before the Hyperonic Jell-o will be officially discovered.
At that time we plan on using the Hyperonic Jello-o to build futuristic space machines and the successor to the ZRLX Bucket. It will nearly wipe out all vehicle related fatalities and, once perfected, will serve as emergency snacks. Spinner McBlam II of the UGGA is particularly interested in this technology, the GDPC has advised not to sell him the technology though as a this would inevitably cause the start of the fifth Glactic War (oddly, earth was never a part of the first four due to our lack of threat to the Unknown Galaxy Galactic Alliance even though we are the only planet so far to house the HSC and QSP).
Monday, August 21, 2006
Chapter 21: Party Blunders at Lightspeed
In earlier articles we have spoken about humankind's rudeness in its various attempts at time travel. This may lead one to think that the universe is a midwestern coktail party hostess who remains polite though her feelings are stepped on again and again. This is not the case. The universe more closely approaches a New York cockfight hostess who will give you the bum's rush if you don't put your money on the table (Your money, of course, being your mass, energy, spin, and the combined frequencies at which your strings are vibrating.)
How do I know this is true? Okay I don't know know it's true, but Spinner McBlam's cousin told me the following anecdote which, at least in my mind, almost completely lends support to whatever I just said in the preceding paragraph.
I will let him tell it in his own words:
"Right, so there I was, fuming mad because Ventosus Island had just materiaized on my favorite of my birth planets, Erehnrob,and spacelagged from travelling to Tenalp 2 to lodge a formal complaint. [Our records indicate that Ventosus never officially shifted there and that it was only there for a few nanoseconds anyway, but once you get a reputation. . .]Just as I opened my mouth to let the Complaint Division Customer Service Poodle have it I was interrupted by the Section Chief, not to mention bracketed editorial comments. [Sorry]
"'Here now, what are you on about!' he demanded. I tried to explain how rudely Ventosus showed up, bringing twice the polite air/dirt/tree density and all that, but he interrupted again. 'You are in the wrong line for that!! Yet you come here saying. . .well, dang! I don't know how to punctuate a quote within my own dialog within somebody else's quote. And I'm sure if someone ever tries to recreate this anecdote of yours in your own words they won't either. So I can't tell you what you said but you know it!'
"After that there was this silence while we all thought about what he had just said. During the silence I realized that my birthday party was going to start on Ooterehnrob in twenty minutes and I was thirty light minutes away.
"Now in that portion of the galaxy it is the heighth of rudeness to show up early or on time. Ten minutes late is frowned upon. And twenty minutes late is inexcusable. A person arriving eleven to fifteen minutes late will be met with swords. That's just how they are. I didn't have all time, so I could not waste it trying to accelerate to lightspeed so I settled for almost lightspeed. Here is where the universe payed me back for all the time travelling she knew I was going to haven't done yet did doing will have looked forward to regretting once for all.
[At this point he carries on as if the reader has an understanding of near lightspeed travel]
Of course I got to the party way bigger than the polite size. Well, my head was, my feet were still tiny and blue, you know how they do. I had to lay down to hear what was going on at the party. Some guest was complaining to another about how the blood sliding around in the veins of my brain was disturbing him. I realized with some embarrassment that the top half of my noggin had redshifted into the infrared wavelength and out of sight. A party foul, I thought, but certainly no worse than dropping the spoon handle into the bean dip. Finally this attractive lady noticed that I was being ignored and came over to talk to me.
'When do you think the rest of your body is going to come down out of the sky and join the party?' Trying to be witty I attempted to say, 'Hopefully not for another four minutes so I can be considered inexcusably late and not sword late.' But when I started saying it, instead of listening or laughing everybody at the party started rolling on the ground, making agonized faces and clamping their hands over their ears. A few of them got up and left. The party was over."
Now the reader must bear in mind that after recounting that tail Spinner McBlam's cousin did admit to me that he had stretched the truth. As it turns out Erehnrob was only his third favorite birth planet. He added that bit to make the story more interesting, he said.
How do I know this is true? Okay I don't know know it's true, but Spinner McBlam's cousin told me the following anecdote which, at least in my mind, almost completely lends support to whatever I just said in the preceding paragraph.
I will let him tell it in his own words:
"Right, so there I was, fuming mad because Ventosus Island had just materiaized on my favorite of my birth planets, Erehnrob,and spacelagged from travelling to Tenalp 2 to lodge a formal complaint. [Our records indicate that Ventosus never officially shifted there and that it was only there for a few nanoseconds anyway, but once you get a reputation. . .]Just as I opened my mouth to let the Complaint Division Customer Service Poodle have it I was interrupted by the Section Chief, not to mention bracketed editorial comments. [Sorry]
"'Here now, what are you on about!' he demanded. I tried to explain how rudely Ventosus showed up, bringing twice the polite air/dirt/tree density and all that, but he interrupted again. 'You are in the wrong line for that!! Yet you come here saying. . .well, dang! I don't know how to punctuate a quote within my own dialog within somebody else's quote. And I'm sure if someone ever tries to recreate this anecdote of yours in your own words they won't either. So I can't tell you what you said but you know it!'
"After that there was this silence while we all thought about what he had just said. During the silence I realized that my birthday party was going to start on Ooterehnrob in twenty minutes and I was thirty light minutes away.
"Now in that portion of the galaxy it is the heighth of rudeness to show up early or on time. Ten minutes late is frowned upon. And twenty minutes late is inexcusable. A person arriving eleven to fifteen minutes late will be met with swords. That's just how they are. I didn't have all time, so I could not waste it trying to accelerate to lightspeed so I settled for almost lightspeed. Here is where the universe payed me back for all the time travelling she knew I was going to haven't done yet did doing will have looked forward to regretting once for all.
[At this point he carries on as if the reader has an understanding of near lightspeed travel]
Of course I got to the party way bigger than the polite size. Well, my head was, my feet were still tiny and blue, you know how they do. I had to lay down to hear what was going on at the party. Some guest was complaining to another about how the blood sliding around in the veins of my brain was disturbing him. I realized with some embarrassment that the top half of my noggin had redshifted into the infrared wavelength and out of sight. A party foul, I thought, but certainly no worse than dropping the spoon handle into the bean dip. Finally this attractive lady noticed that I was being ignored and came over to talk to me.
'When do you think the rest of your body is going to come down out of the sky and join the party?' Trying to be witty I attempted to say, 'Hopefully not for another four minutes so I can be considered inexcusably late and not sword late.' But when I started saying it, instead of listening or laughing everybody at the party started rolling on the ground, making agonized faces and clamping their hands over their ears. A few of them got up and left. The party was over."
Now the reader must bear in mind that after recounting that tail Spinner McBlam's cousin did admit to me that he had stretched the truth. As it turns out Erehnrob was only his third favorite birth planet. He added that bit to make the story more interesting, he said.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Chapter 20: The Absence of Forgetfulness
How many things have you forgotten over the course of your life? Chances are not as many as you think. The average humanoid has actually genuinely forgotten about 7 thoughts since they were born. The sizable remainder of the missing brain waves generally fall victim to parasitic organisms that inhabit the bodies of our parallel selves in an alternate universe. These organisms range from the picoscopic Chelben, that generally feeds on minor items such as grocery lists and the locations of keys, to the worm-like Wilkarz, that prefers thoughts that would usually prove financially profitable for the individual who first conceived it, were it to come to fruition.
None of these are quite as infamous however as the Zimble. The Zimble feeds on rather practical matters of the mind. It generally delights in dates and appointments. The more important the appointment and the harder you are trying to remember it, the more delectable it appears to the Zimble. Unbeknownst to women galaxywide, the Zimble is actually to blame for numerous dating stand-ups and missed anniversaries. It appears that the Zimble actually has quite the voracious appetite. Once it begins to feast it will continue to devour thoughts like delectable morsels of Turkish delight until it is destroyed. Thankfully, the Zimble isn’t even a robust enough creature to survive the mild body temperature increase associated with a good cup of coffee. It is theorized that the Zimble can communicate on a primitive level with the coffee collective to prompt coffee based mischief to better its chances of survival.
The strangest fact about all of these parasites is that they can only feed across the Great Galactic Gulf between alternate universes. The GGG is a unique oddity in and of itself. A place where thoughts transmit as cleanly as through a semiconductor and few corporeal creatures can survive, certainly none of the air breathers. Very little is actually known by the GGG and none has traversed it except the intrepid explorers who have briefly entered it’s realm during the early attempts at time travel. It is believed that those very experiences are what originally alerted the sub-intelligent parasitic thought-consuming organisms of the alternate universe of our presence. If the Higher Scientific community of this alternate universe is aware of their presence we are certain that they are immensely grateful for the new source of sustenance that we have provided distracting these parasites from their own thoughts.
All is not lost for humanity however. Do not believe, esteemed reader, nay, even for a moment that Humankind is doomed to infinite “forgetfulness”. At this moment, the great thinkers of Ventosus Island have begun work on a method to close the Great Galactic Gulf to all thought transmission. This would effectively starve the parasites of the alternate universe and cause them to either die off or find another source of food. This action, however, has met with strong resistance from Dr. Wilhelm Brodmayer, the chairman of the GDPC (Galactic Disaster Preparedness Committee). His thoughts have been that we misunderstand the usefulness of these creatures. He proposes that they are symbiotic rather than parasitic organisms. Their usual function is to remove the clutter of unused memories from our consciousness. The only issue is that over the years we fall behind. The creatures appetites get so large that they must clean out our thoughts that are in current use rather than merely relying on discarded memories. Wilhelm’s hypothesis theorizes that the closing of the GGG to thought transmission would leave us with so many extra thoughts that we would be unable to concentrate on anything because of our constant recollections of everything that we have ever conceived or experienced. Sleep would become as elusive as the Thnith. He is gaining support rapidly and is likely to supplant the authority of the HSC’s committee for closing the GGG before significant damage is done.
None of these are quite as infamous however as the Zimble. The Zimble feeds on rather practical matters of the mind. It generally delights in dates and appointments. The more important the appointment and the harder you are trying to remember it, the more delectable it appears to the Zimble. Unbeknownst to women galaxywide, the Zimble is actually to blame for numerous dating stand-ups and missed anniversaries. It appears that the Zimble actually has quite the voracious appetite. Once it begins to feast it will continue to devour thoughts like delectable morsels of Turkish delight until it is destroyed. Thankfully, the Zimble isn’t even a robust enough creature to survive the mild body temperature increase associated with a good cup of coffee. It is theorized that the Zimble can communicate on a primitive level with the coffee collective to prompt coffee based mischief to better its chances of survival.
The strangest fact about all of these parasites is that they can only feed across the Great Galactic Gulf between alternate universes. The GGG is a unique oddity in and of itself. A place where thoughts transmit as cleanly as through a semiconductor and few corporeal creatures can survive, certainly none of the air breathers. Very little is actually known by the GGG and none has traversed it except the intrepid explorers who have briefly entered it’s realm during the early attempts at time travel. It is believed that those very experiences are what originally alerted the sub-intelligent parasitic thought-consuming organisms of the alternate universe of our presence. If the Higher Scientific community of this alternate universe is aware of their presence we are certain that they are immensely grateful for the new source of sustenance that we have provided distracting these parasites from their own thoughts.
All is not lost for humanity however. Do not believe, esteemed reader, nay, even for a moment that Humankind is doomed to infinite “forgetfulness”. At this moment, the great thinkers of Ventosus Island have begun work on a method to close the Great Galactic Gulf to all thought transmission. This would effectively starve the parasites of the alternate universe and cause them to either die off or find another source of food. This action, however, has met with strong resistance from Dr. Wilhelm Brodmayer, the chairman of the GDPC (Galactic Disaster Preparedness Committee). His thoughts have been that we misunderstand the usefulness of these creatures. He proposes that they are symbiotic rather than parasitic organisms. Their usual function is to remove the clutter of unused memories from our consciousness. The only issue is that over the years we fall behind. The creatures appetites get so large that they must clean out our thoughts that are in current use rather than merely relying on discarded memories. Wilhelm’s hypothesis theorizes that the closing of the GGG to thought transmission would leave us with so many extra thoughts that we would be unable to concentrate on anything because of our constant recollections of everything that we have ever conceived or experienced. Sleep would become as elusive as the Thnith. He is gaining support rapidly and is likely to supplant the authority of the HSC’s committee for closing the GGG before significant damage is done.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Chapter 19: The Elusive Thnith
Of all the things one might expect to see inside an HSC interdimensional suitcase, a thinth is certainly not one of them. The reasons for this are two-fold and as follows:
1. Something does not have a title of ‘elusive’ if one can readily find it at any given moment, the elusive Thinth of the 32nd dimension is, for lack of a better word, elusive.
2. The only time the Thnith will make a journey to our humble yet hospitable third dimension is if peasants in their thatched roof cottages are in dire need of a hero to stop all the burninating.
Why would a creature from the malevolent 32nd dimension come to the aid of a peace loving 3rd dimensional human? I see you have paid attention during these chapters and know that, as a rule of thumb, any creature from the 32nd dimension is evil and ill-tempered, a deadly combination in any situation whether you are floating on a sea of English standard wrenches in the gamma quadrant or if you are hunting for doorknobs with Spinner McBlam (which happens to be one of his favorite pastimes).
Alas, there are exceptions to every rule of thumb. For instance, gravity has recently been discovered to only be a ‘rule of thumb’. The fallout from this discovery has yet to be felt here on earth where we still think gravity is the only thing holding us to the ground (how ignorant we’ve become!).
At any rate, the Thnith is the only benevolent creature in the 32nd dimension so we at QSP would advise not traveling there in the foreseeable future. It is said, by many HSC scientists and other higher thinkers, that the 32nd dimension is in the late stages of a government conspiracy. It is rumored that the 30th and 31st dimensions have formed an alliance with the Thinth and will attempt to wrest control from the vice like grip of the 32nd dimension. What exactly it has in it’s vice like grip is debatable, but we believe that it is something akin to a modernized musket.
While it may be difficult to imagine a dimension having a grip on something, it is actually quite logical. You see, space explorers for many generations have been telling stories in interstellar pubs about the horridness that is The Black Hole. When a dimension decides to grip something, whether is be the 32nd dimensions or the first, it creates a ripple in time, space, and any continuum that happens to be within 247.897 light years of the Gripping Point. These ripples have the uncanny effect of actually tearing the time fabric of our third dimension, creating a black hole.
The Thnith is hoping to prevent this by forming a trilateral government within any hostile dimensions and banning the gripping of anything larger than a small planet (earth is considered a minor-small planet so we are safe for now). Any concerns should be brought up with your local resident Tri-Lateral Committee Formation Representative’s legal secretary.
1. Something does not have a title of ‘elusive’ if one can readily find it at any given moment, the elusive Thinth of the 32nd dimension is, for lack of a better word, elusive.
2. The only time the Thnith will make a journey to our humble yet hospitable third dimension is if peasants in their thatched roof cottages are in dire need of a hero to stop all the burninating.
Why would a creature from the malevolent 32nd dimension come to the aid of a peace loving 3rd dimensional human? I see you have paid attention during these chapters and know that, as a rule of thumb, any creature from the 32nd dimension is evil and ill-tempered, a deadly combination in any situation whether you are floating on a sea of English standard wrenches in the gamma quadrant or if you are hunting for doorknobs with Spinner McBlam (which happens to be one of his favorite pastimes).
Alas, there are exceptions to every rule of thumb. For instance, gravity has recently been discovered to only be a ‘rule of thumb’. The fallout from this discovery has yet to be felt here on earth where we still think gravity is the only thing holding us to the ground (how ignorant we’ve become!).
At any rate, the Thnith is the only benevolent creature in the 32nd dimension so we at QSP would advise not traveling there in the foreseeable future. It is said, by many HSC scientists and other higher thinkers, that the 32nd dimension is in the late stages of a government conspiracy. It is rumored that the 30th and 31st dimensions have formed an alliance with the Thinth and will attempt to wrest control from the vice like grip of the 32nd dimension. What exactly it has in it’s vice like grip is debatable, but we believe that it is something akin to a modernized musket.
While it may be difficult to imagine a dimension having a grip on something, it is actually quite logical. You see, space explorers for many generations have been telling stories in interstellar pubs about the horridness that is The Black Hole. When a dimension decides to grip something, whether is be the 32nd dimensions or the first, it creates a ripple in time, space, and any continuum that happens to be within 247.897 light years of the Gripping Point. These ripples have the uncanny effect of actually tearing the time fabric of our third dimension, creating a black hole.
The Thnith is hoping to prevent this by forming a trilateral government within any hostile dimensions and banning the gripping of anything larger than a small planet (earth is considered a minor-small planet so we are safe for now). Any concerns should be brought up with your local resident Tri-Lateral Committee Formation Representative’s legal secretary.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Chapter 18: Conspiracy Theories
The government is behind all of it. That is the general basis for 92.7% of the conspiracy theories available to date. People everywhere have for generations been theorizing about how the government of their particular locale has been attempting to keep the populace under control and observation at all times. The real issue behind these misconceptions is the motive with which they were created. Conspiracy theories are actually propagated by the very governments that they are referencing. The genuine motive behind them is a cost reduction of governmental expenditure by instilling the fear of control into the people allowing the said government to lessen actual control invisibly.
Most societies in the world today are in the earlier stages of this phenomenon. There is one people however where this has been taken to the extreme. In the middle of the Pacific Rim, there is a small archipelago of tropical islands that was formerly run by members of the Higher Scientific Community. These islands eventually evolved into the antithesis of the HSC’s installations on Ventosus Island. As the population gradually became less interested in scientific pursuits, the governing body of HSC scientists lost their interest in maintaining control of the islands. However they remained unwilling to merely surrender them to total anarchy. This is when the conspiracy theories began to be introduced to the community at large. Over time, the thoughts of the citizens of these islands became to consumed by paranoia that they feared the government’s watchful eyes in everything they did. Crime actually dropped off the radar nearly entirely and the average Joes of the nation would exact appropriate punishment on those who committed the few remaining misdemeanors for fear of it drawing attention to any one group. In this way the HSC was able to pull completely out of the country and comfortably ignore it for the indefinite future without bothering to set up an interim government. The actual workings of the government of this region really only consists of a single appointed president who was assigned the job merely on the “shiftyness” of his demeanor and is in fact too paranoid to do much more than watch reservedly the goings on outside the windows of his considerable estate.
This is the way that nearly all governments are headed at this time. Some of them are farther along in the evolution than others merely because of the lack of funding that is being pulled in by taxation. Most of the taxes that are levied are actually going to a select few who’s entire purpose is to decide what portion of everyday life is going to supposedly be invaded upon next and figure out what entertainment venues to spend this years sizable budget on.
Just remember, consummate reader of this beacon of scientific progress, the next time you hear of a plot of the government to invade your privacy and control you subversively, that’s what they want you to think.
Most societies in the world today are in the earlier stages of this phenomenon. There is one people however where this has been taken to the extreme. In the middle of the Pacific Rim, there is a small archipelago of tropical islands that was formerly run by members of the Higher Scientific Community. These islands eventually evolved into the antithesis of the HSC’s installations on Ventosus Island. As the population gradually became less interested in scientific pursuits, the governing body of HSC scientists lost their interest in maintaining control of the islands. However they remained unwilling to merely surrender them to total anarchy. This is when the conspiracy theories began to be introduced to the community at large. Over time, the thoughts of the citizens of these islands became to consumed by paranoia that they feared the government’s watchful eyes in everything they did. Crime actually dropped off the radar nearly entirely and the average Joes of the nation would exact appropriate punishment on those who committed the few remaining misdemeanors for fear of it drawing attention to any one group. In this way the HSC was able to pull completely out of the country and comfortably ignore it for the indefinite future without bothering to set up an interim government. The actual workings of the government of this region really only consists of a single appointed president who was assigned the job merely on the “shiftyness” of his demeanor and is in fact too paranoid to do much more than watch reservedly the goings on outside the windows of his considerable estate.
This is the way that nearly all governments are headed at this time. Some of them are farther along in the evolution than others merely because of the lack of funding that is being pulled in by taxation. Most of the taxes that are levied are actually going to a select few who’s entire purpose is to decide what portion of everyday life is going to supposedly be invaded upon next and figure out what entertainment venues to spend this years sizable budget on.
Just remember, consummate reader of this beacon of scientific progress, the next time you hear of a plot of the government to invade your privacy and control you subversively, that’s what they want you to think.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Chapter 17: Quantum Gaming
In many families of the Higher Scientific Community (yes, somehow they still manage to have families, it isn’t known how they both find the time and manage to attract a mate but that is a phenomenon for another chapter) the habit of Quantum gaming has evolved from the lowly roots of Basic Dice Games such as are commonplace among the more commonplace population. Most of these are simple turn based Role playing games that have been developed and enhanced for the highly sophisticated minds of the Higher Scientific Youth.
One of the biggest differences is the actual dice used in these ventures. Rarely will you see a standard 3 dimensional cube or other multi-faceted die (unless the character is somehow constrained in his abilities from some previous occurrence). More often what is used is significantly different than what you would expect. Usually extra dimensions are included as in the Hypercube. It is a 5 dimensional perfect cube. Exactly the same length sides in all 5 dimensions. This is incredibly useful in games of this caliber and wonderfully beautiful to behold as well. Unfortunately there are some adverse side effects that have to be mitigated in the mean time. Since man has been proven to exist only in the viewable 3 dimensions he has an extreme difficulty influencing the 5 dimensional Hypercube, which has nearly infinite mass when crammed into 3-dimensional space. It wasn’t until the first Hypercube die was created that this situation was discovered. The scientists running the Wizards of the Other Coast – The Higher Scientific Game Company (WotOC, pronounced w00t) were unable to remove the die from their laboratory for a number of months. It was actually Mr. Slobodan Vilczevski (previously renown for his discovery of Nothing) who was able to develop a suitable small multidimensional containment field allowing the dice to be used as with nothing more than the heft of a high quality polymer.
On a similar vein, the introduction of a perfectly flat-faced 3-sided die was also plagued with difficulties during development. This game piece required the use of less than 3 dimensions while still filling out a 3 dimensional space, giving it a nearly infinitely small mass. The first twelve prototypes were lost before it was ever discovered that the person 3 cubicles down was sneezing from spring allergies. After the Hypercube containment field was modified to actually increase mass rather than decrease it, it took several years of R&D and several more lost dice before it was discovered that you had to actually construct each one inside the modified hypercube field so you wouldn’t lose it. 42 of the original 47 uncontained 3-sided dice are still at large and are highly sought after by collectors of the rare and unusual.
One of the biggest differences is the actual dice used in these ventures. Rarely will you see a standard 3 dimensional cube or other multi-faceted die (unless the character is somehow constrained in his abilities from some previous occurrence). More often what is used is significantly different than what you would expect. Usually extra dimensions are included as in the Hypercube. It is a 5 dimensional perfect cube. Exactly the same length sides in all 5 dimensions. This is incredibly useful in games of this caliber and wonderfully beautiful to behold as well. Unfortunately there are some adverse side effects that have to be mitigated in the mean time. Since man has been proven to exist only in the viewable 3 dimensions he has an extreme difficulty influencing the 5 dimensional Hypercube, which has nearly infinite mass when crammed into 3-dimensional space. It wasn’t until the first Hypercube die was created that this situation was discovered. The scientists running the Wizards of the Other Coast – The Higher Scientific Game Company (WotOC, pronounced w00t) were unable to remove the die from their laboratory for a number of months. It was actually Mr. Slobodan Vilczevski (previously renown for his discovery of Nothing) who was able to develop a suitable small multidimensional containment field allowing the dice to be used as with nothing more than the heft of a high quality polymer.
On a similar vein, the introduction of a perfectly flat-faced 3-sided die was also plagued with difficulties during development. This game piece required the use of less than 3 dimensions while still filling out a 3 dimensional space, giving it a nearly infinitely small mass. The first twelve prototypes were lost before it was ever discovered that the person 3 cubicles down was sneezing from spring allergies. After the Hypercube containment field was modified to actually increase mass rather than decrease it, it took several years of R&D and several more lost dice before it was discovered that you had to actually construct each one inside the modified hypercube field so you wouldn’t lose it. 42 of the original 47 uncontained 3-sided dice are still at large and are highly sought after by collectors of the rare and unusual.
Monday, June 12, 2006
Chapter 16: Greatest Failure
The Galactic Disaster Preparedness Committee (GDPC) is a most ignoble position as of late. True, it has been acknowledged with the majors successes of intercepting the Thoron particle tidal wave in the Betelgeuse system and intervening in the progressive freezing of the planet Eridius by introducing a new brand of hair care product under cover of a dummy corporation that released copious amounts of greenhouse gasses into the atmosphere (or bluehouse gasses, as the case was on that planet). However, it has had it’s share of magnificent embarrassments as well. More notably on that scale was the prevention of Tropical Atlantic Hurricanes. While the GDPC claims the lack of hurricanes on record hitting Ventosus Island as its success in part, the rest of the HSC tends to reflect on the lack of any and all weather data dating further back than 6 months at any given moment may in part belie that theory. The greatest proverbial egg on their face however stemmed from the original distress beacon sent out by a planet known at the time as Archemelar IV. This was a quaint little planet sure to become a fantastic tourist location in the event that intergalactic travel becomes commonplace. The Archemelarian Soni-burgers were one of the most fantastic delicacies that one could find this side of the fourth dimensional rift.
The distress beacon (really a casual request for assisstance) came when the thermian mosquitoes began migrating over from Archemelar III. Archemelar III was a largely uninhabited planet of almost completely inhospitable conditions. About the only things living there were the thermian mosquitoes, the Monocyanic quantum bacteria and the trylic tree snort (which was almost certainly not a native species since there was a significant lack of trees on Archemelar III). The GDPC was hot on the heels of the narcotic effects of a spectacular success, having just circumvented the invasion of the largely grumpy sea bass, when they received this call. Due to a minor difference in dialect the tone of the message was misconstrued to be one of utmost urgency and so the GDPC leapt into action without completely examining nearly all of the possible outcomes (10 to the 347th power is usually a sufficient number).
Upon receipt of this (apparently) most urgent distress beacon warning of the imminent invasion of another non-indigenous species, the GDPC immediately purchased massive quantities of the same type of pesticide that was used as a general deterrent for the Sea Bass and scheduled a extra solar hyperspace launch aimed at Archemelar III. In their haste to come once again to the rescue, they failed to account for the quintannual solar crosswind coming off from Alpha Centauri’s second and third star. This marginally sub-light particulation happened to be arriving about the same time the pesticide delivery module cleared Neptune and began to warm up it’s hyperspace generators. Now a solar crosswind isn’t something that you would normally associate with disaster and most of the time you would be correct. This “breeze” merely threw the trajectory of the delivery module off approximately 23 microns at the journeys origin. This, due to the inconsistent irregularities of hyperspace (discussed in a previous chapter) caused the craft to bounce far too close to the galactic center after picking up a nearly insignificant increase in mass from the Oort cloud. The result was that instead of hitting the intended target of Archemelar III it ricocheted violently off the 4th moon of Archemelar VII and caromed on a direct spiral into the Archemelar sun. This pesticide was an extremely unique variety acquired from a backwoods chemist shop deep in the NE sector of Antarctica. It was a special variety designed to work mostly on higher dimensional creatures and the chemist himself never gave up the recipe prior to the day he decided to attempt to travel to the future to find better manufacturing methods. He like all the other time travelers has yet to return. This pesticide had some rather uncharacteristic qualities that had yet to be discovered at this time however, since when it entered the star’s corona it began to have a most peculiar effect. The best method to date that has been achieved to describe this phenomena was that the Archemelar star had an allergic reaction and “sneezed”. This was the origin of the horsehead nebula.
Most scientists assume that the planet of Archemelar IV was instantly destroyed in the resulting shockwave however there are a select few adventurers that hold to the belief that it was merely forcibly ejected from it’s orbit and sent flying randomly through the galaxy. Now, no longer being warmed by a sun, it hovers near absolute zero with all of its inhabitants frozen in suspended animation. They search for it with a fervor comparable to the search for the lost city of Atlantis and have already picked a suitable surrogate sun to warm the planet once a method of retrieval is refined.
The distress beacon (really a casual request for assisstance) came when the thermian mosquitoes began migrating over from Archemelar III. Archemelar III was a largely uninhabited planet of almost completely inhospitable conditions. About the only things living there were the thermian mosquitoes, the Monocyanic quantum bacteria and the trylic tree snort (which was almost certainly not a native species since there was a significant lack of trees on Archemelar III). The GDPC was hot on the heels of the narcotic effects of a spectacular success, having just circumvented the invasion of the largely grumpy sea bass, when they received this call. Due to a minor difference in dialect the tone of the message was misconstrued to be one of utmost urgency and so the GDPC leapt into action without completely examining nearly all of the possible outcomes (10 to the 347th power is usually a sufficient number).
Upon receipt of this (apparently) most urgent distress beacon warning of the imminent invasion of another non-indigenous species, the GDPC immediately purchased massive quantities of the same type of pesticide that was used as a general deterrent for the Sea Bass and scheduled a extra solar hyperspace launch aimed at Archemelar III. In their haste to come once again to the rescue, they failed to account for the quintannual solar crosswind coming off from Alpha Centauri’s second and third star. This marginally sub-light particulation happened to be arriving about the same time the pesticide delivery module cleared Neptune and began to warm up it’s hyperspace generators. Now a solar crosswind isn’t something that you would normally associate with disaster and most of the time you would be correct. This “breeze” merely threw the trajectory of the delivery module off approximately 23 microns at the journeys origin. This, due to the inconsistent irregularities of hyperspace (discussed in a previous chapter) caused the craft to bounce far too close to the galactic center after picking up a nearly insignificant increase in mass from the Oort cloud. The result was that instead of hitting the intended target of Archemelar III it ricocheted violently off the 4th moon of Archemelar VII and caromed on a direct spiral into the Archemelar sun. This pesticide was an extremely unique variety acquired from a backwoods chemist shop deep in the NE sector of Antarctica. It was a special variety designed to work mostly on higher dimensional creatures and the chemist himself never gave up the recipe prior to the day he decided to attempt to travel to the future to find better manufacturing methods. He like all the other time travelers has yet to return. This pesticide had some rather uncharacteristic qualities that had yet to be discovered at this time however, since when it entered the star’s corona it began to have a most peculiar effect. The best method to date that has been achieved to describe this phenomena was that the Archemelar star had an allergic reaction and “sneezed”. This was the origin of the horsehead nebula.
Most scientists assume that the planet of Archemelar IV was instantly destroyed in the resulting shockwave however there are a select few adventurers that hold to the belief that it was merely forcibly ejected from it’s orbit and sent flying randomly through the galaxy. Now, no longer being warmed by a sun, it hovers near absolute zero with all of its inhabitants frozen in suspended animation. They search for it with a fervor comparable to the search for the lost city of Atlantis and have already picked a suitable surrogate sun to warm the planet once a method of retrieval is refined.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Chapter 15: Malagnon Beta
I hope you enjoyed the previous chapter penned (or typed, written, scribed or whatever means of creation the author used) exquisitely by none other than the famous Jonny10. “I’ve never heard of Jonny10 before” you may say. And to that I say of course you haven’t for you are probably a mere earthling sitting in some third dimensional structure lovingly (or begrudgingly depending who did the building) constructed by another third dimensional earthling. I use the term ‘probably’ because I am unsure how far this scientific journal of epic proportions will reach into uncharted space and time.
The reason you, our most studious reader, have not heard the name Jonny10 is because his exploits are generally unknown ‘round these parts. If you were to travel to Malagnon Beta, the third planet in the Pikchur galaxy, you would most assuredly see at least 1,754 statues erected in homage to the enigma that is Jonny10. Generally, these statues are no more than a pile of rubble tossed haphazardly into a central location due to the fact that no one in Malagnon Beta has ever actually seen Jonny10 but they apparently assume he resembles something akin to said piles of rubble.
The reason for this is simple and straightforward; the people of Malagnon Beta have come to believe that rock piles are synonymous with wealth and want nothing more than to show earthlings the extent of their wealth. And what better way to show ones rock wealth than playing a game of Avoid-Being-Crushed-By-Large-Heavy-Objects. Though being crushed by rocks is seemingly impossible due to their unique physiological makeup. The rules of the game are fuzzy at best since we have not yet translated the Malagnon language or individual dialects of the many tribes of the planet.
In one visit to the primarily forested planet we were greeted by what can only be described as a hyperactive yet surprisingly tame bucket of an unknown liquid. The bucket attempted to interact with our landing party but only managed to dump half of its contents on our pilot. We believe this is how the Malagnons communicate. Currently we are developing hyper-sensitive outer coverings that can detect the subtle differences between three drops from a bucket which we have come to conclude has the meaning of “Lets play a game of Avoid-Being-Crushed-By-Large-Heavy-Objects” and four drops which means “Your standing in my foot.” Not only does the language differ by the number of drops, but it also depends on what sound the drops make as they strike a surface. For instance drip-drip-drop is a completely different phrase than drip-drop-droop. One of my personal favorite sayings is drip-pang-zap, I’m not sure what it means but whenever someone says it the buckets literally quake with laughter (insofar as it is possible for a bucket of unknown liquid to laugh).
How these buckets of liquid managed to grapple and throw rocks has yet to be discovered. It may have something to do with the odd properties of the liquid in the buckets, which resembles wet glue in texture but is clear like pure spring water. It is my belief that the buckets are merely the “clothes” of the liquid as I have seen, with my own two viewing organs, the liquid jump straight out of one bucket and into another. Fear not, for the first stop the floating Island of Ventosus will make after the demise of the planet will be on the humble planet of Malagnon Beta where we will be able to observe the indigenous beings more closely.
At any rate, the large piles of stone lying strewn across the planet look almost vaguely like a finger when viewed from the far reaches of space. The vague finger shape seems to be pointing in the general direction of Earth, and who on Earth has the most space-sounding name? Jonny10 of course, which is why we at QSP and certain members of the HSC have come to the logical conclusion that the piles of rubble are actually a monument to the intrepid space explorer and have also deduced from various top secret experiments and observations that the game of Avoid-Being-Crushed-By-Large-Heavy-Objects is merely a front to make it seem as if they have no idea what we are talking about.
The many scientist and other higher-thinkers at the HSC are trained to see through such fallacies and can readily identify at least 27.986 ways the beings of Malagnon Beta have tricked the greater Milky Way area into believing that they are only unintelligent buckets of unknown liquid that can somehow lift boulders the size of Texas. It is the proposition of some lesser beings in the LSC that we may not be on the verge of a major scientific discovery. Of course, anything the LSC has to say is automatically stamped as erroneous babblings spewing from a pit of nonsense. Therefore I recommend we disregard anything and everything the LSC has to say and proceed to build a space elevator to Malagnon Beta in all haste. This will start the downfall of Earth but will speed the launch of Ventosus Island into a self-contained floating mass of all that is good and right.
I don’t see how this could possibly backfire.
The reason you, our most studious reader, have not heard the name Jonny10 is because his exploits are generally unknown ‘round these parts. If you were to travel to Malagnon Beta, the third planet in the Pikchur galaxy, you would most assuredly see at least 1,754 statues erected in homage to the enigma that is Jonny10. Generally, these statues are no more than a pile of rubble tossed haphazardly into a central location due to the fact that no one in Malagnon Beta has ever actually seen Jonny10 but they apparently assume he resembles something akin to said piles of rubble.
The reason for this is simple and straightforward; the people of Malagnon Beta have come to believe that rock piles are synonymous with wealth and want nothing more than to show earthlings the extent of their wealth. And what better way to show ones rock wealth than playing a game of Avoid-Being-Crushed-By-Large-Heavy-Objects. Though being crushed by rocks is seemingly impossible due to their unique physiological makeup. The rules of the game are fuzzy at best since we have not yet translated the Malagnon language or individual dialects of the many tribes of the planet.
In one visit to the primarily forested planet we were greeted by what can only be described as a hyperactive yet surprisingly tame bucket of an unknown liquid. The bucket attempted to interact with our landing party but only managed to dump half of its contents on our pilot. We believe this is how the Malagnons communicate. Currently we are developing hyper-sensitive outer coverings that can detect the subtle differences between three drops from a bucket which we have come to conclude has the meaning of “Lets play a game of Avoid-Being-Crushed-By-Large-Heavy-Objects” and four drops which means “Your standing in my foot.” Not only does the language differ by the number of drops, but it also depends on what sound the drops make as they strike a surface. For instance drip-drip-drop is a completely different phrase than drip-drop-droop. One of my personal favorite sayings is drip-pang-zap, I’m not sure what it means but whenever someone says it the buckets literally quake with laughter (insofar as it is possible for a bucket of unknown liquid to laugh).
How these buckets of liquid managed to grapple and throw rocks has yet to be discovered. It may have something to do with the odd properties of the liquid in the buckets, which resembles wet glue in texture but is clear like pure spring water. It is my belief that the buckets are merely the “clothes” of the liquid as I have seen, with my own two viewing organs, the liquid jump straight out of one bucket and into another. Fear not, for the first stop the floating Island of Ventosus will make after the demise of the planet will be on the humble planet of Malagnon Beta where we will be able to observe the indigenous beings more closely.
At any rate, the large piles of stone lying strewn across the planet look almost vaguely like a finger when viewed from the far reaches of space. The vague finger shape seems to be pointing in the general direction of Earth, and who on Earth has the most space-sounding name? Jonny10 of course, which is why we at QSP and certain members of the HSC have come to the logical conclusion that the piles of rubble are actually a monument to the intrepid space explorer and have also deduced from various top secret experiments and observations that the game of Avoid-Being-Crushed-By-Large-Heavy-Objects is merely a front to make it seem as if they have no idea what we are talking about.
The many scientist and other higher-thinkers at the HSC are trained to see through such fallacies and can readily identify at least 27.986 ways the beings of Malagnon Beta have tricked the greater Milky Way area into believing that they are only unintelligent buckets of unknown liquid that can somehow lift boulders the size of Texas. It is the proposition of some lesser beings in the LSC that we may not be on the verge of a major scientific discovery. Of course, anything the LSC has to say is automatically stamped as erroneous babblings spewing from a pit of nonsense. Therefore I recommend we disregard anything and everything the LSC has to say and proceed to build a space elevator to Malagnon Beta in all haste. This will start the downfall of Earth but will speed the launch of Ventosus Island into a self-contained floating mass of all that is good and right.
I don’t see how this could possibly backfire.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Chapter 14: Sticks and Stones may break my Clones
The concept of cloning a human first met with disapproval. This is a result of many complex motivations involving disagreements on respect of life, existence of a soul, and worth of individuality. An often uncited motivation would be people's general dislike of themselves. Most people wouldn't trust themselves and would not like to compete with themselves because they know that they don't play fair. Also, once you have been wronged by an exact duplicate of yourself the usually satisfying practice of blaming takes on an uncomfortable subtext.
Thus cloning was only slowly advanced by the people who instead of merely disliking themselves really and truly hated themselves. Their motivation being the idea that now, finally somebody would see how truly wretched it is to be them. When this was accomplished the first clone maddeningly replied to the expectant experimenter: "You think you've got it bad?"
The rest of the conversation consisted of each version of the person trying to explain to the other why they were due the sympathy and should not have to comfort the other. They strangled each other to the point of unconsciousness repeatedly. It would have been to the death but that each one went out exactly while the other did and thus relaxed their grips on each others throats. After a week of this futility they made peace and started the difficult process of getting to know each other. Conversations were awkward. "I know." was said a lot, but eventually the remarkable amount of things they had in common led to activities they enjoyed doing together. They grew to like each other a great deal and once they realized what that truly meant they lost interest in cloning altogether. Tragically they both died self-sacrificially trying to protect the other from an onrushing wedding.
The first clone was unique in that somehow the personality of the donor was carried over. All subsequent attempts produced a person genetically identical, yet still to all respects a distinct person from the donor, possessing differing likes and proficiencies. The clones viewed these differences with a remarkable amount of relief owing to the secret motivations of the only people advancing the cause of cloning. They shook off the moniker of clone altogether preferring the much less offensive Chronologically Challenged Twin which was later shortened to Chron. If someone offended another when using the term clone it became an easy excuse to say that you had said chron, but that because of dialect you could not say r's plopelly. This was viewed as but another step in the gradual process of Japan and America completely trading their cultures (In one future each nation was/is/will be a duplicate of the other in their respective isolationist phases.)
The Chrones, as nice as they were, were not the intended purpose and so other technologies were sought out to produce perfect duplicates. This necessitated the McGuffin Mental Mapper, which could scan the brain for the soul and make a copy. This was a dismal failure as the soul was not to be found. Professor Kradley triumphed with his research in scanning the entire body and found that the soul was in fact located in the kidney. He invented Kradley's Kidney Krapper and the soul was xeroxed. The copy could then be flash-baked into the brain of the clone thereby reproducing a reputable copy of the original. After the first week strangle-cycle adjustment period the clones would be good to go.
Professor Kradley's device was more of a market success than the cloning industry turned out to be. It became a practical joke at parties to remap the souls of two guests who were in some ways opposites and watch them try to adjust, particularly if they were of a differing gender. Egomaniacs would drive down the street broadcasting their personalities from the tops of their cars trying to make as many copies of themselves as possible. This accounts for the current fashion trend on Ventosus Island of wearing reflective clothing over one's kidneys. With the money that came in from the success of his invention Professor Kradley paid for an extravagant wedding to his Circus performing girlfriend. The entire wedding party including the bride groom and minister as well as the groomsmen and the bridesmaids were shot out of a cannon in Greenwich Village. Unfortunately due to a miscalculation of wind drag on taffeta the entire ceremony decelerated during the homily and struck a man and his clone valiently trying to shove each other out of the way in Battery Park, landing just shy of their target landing zone - a gentle splashdown in front of the Statten Island Ferry at sunset with the Statue of Liberty in the background. Suffice it to say the photographer was most put out at the wasted opportunity, but could not find any of the wedding party conscious to complain to.
The cloning industry found that the market reception was cool indeed, for the amount of technology that went into making a clone produced a cost prohibitive unit price. Only the very wealthy could afford a clone. One strategy was to take a loss on the units and hope to make it up on selling peripherals, until it was pointed out that the peripheral lines they could come up with were already vastly available to the public, such as food, clothing, shelter and the like. The idea of branding the merchandise: Clone Food, Clone Clothes, and Clone Shelter was considered but the market research found that the word clone still callied some negative connotations amongst the politically collect. Eventually they decided on a line of products priced per quality.
The Turbo Clone Six Thousand was the flagship. It could take over any area of your life and pass as you, even outperforming you in some cases.
The Six Hundred was priced more for the upper middle class. It could do most of the things you could, but tended towards laziness and told all of your old jokes and stories.
The Sixty was affordable and ideal for menial labor. In speech it tended to describe its own actions or comment on things before its face. Examples of dialog include: "That man has blue pants." "Milk is good." or "I'm sweeping the porch, I'm sweeping the porch."
The Six was sold per pound at a cost comparable to ground chuck and functioned as a basic organ donor clone.
Thus cloning was only slowly advanced by the people who instead of merely disliking themselves really and truly hated themselves. Their motivation being the idea that now, finally somebody would see how truly wretched it is to be them. When this was accomplished the first clone maddeningly replied to the expectant experimenter: "You think you've got it bad?"
The rest of the conversation consisted of each version of the person trying to explain to the other why they were due the sympathy and should not have to comfort the other. They strangled each other to the point of unconsciousness repeatedly. It would have been to the death but that each one went out exactly while the other did and thus relaxed their grips on each others throats. After a week of this futility they made peace and started the difficult process of getting to know each other. Conversations were awkward. "I know." was said a lot, but eventually the remarkable amount of things they had in common led to activities they enjoyed doing together. They grew to like each other a great deal and once they realized what that truly meant they lost interest in cloning altogether. Tragically they both died self-sacrificially trying to protect the other from an onrushing wedding.
The first clone was unique in that somehow the personality of the donor was carried over. All subsequent attempts produced a person genetically identical, yet still to all respects a distinct person from the donor, possessing differing likes and proficiencies. The clones viewed these differences with a remarkable amount of relief owing to the secret motivations of the only people advancing the cause of cloning. They shook off the moniker of clone altogether preferring the much less offensive Chronologically Challenged Twin which was later shortened to Chron. If someone offended another when using the term clone it became an easy excuse to say that you had said chron, but that because of dialect you could not say r's plopelly. This was viewed as but another step in the gradual process of Japan and America completely trading their cultures (In one future each nation was/is/will be a duplicate of the other in their respective isolationist phases.)
The Chrones, as nice as they were, were not the intended purpose and so other technologies were sought out to produce perfect duplicates. This necessitated the McGuffin Mental Mapper, which could scan the brain for the soul and make a copy. This was a dismal failure as the soul was not to be found. Professor Kradley triumphed with his research in scanning the entire body and found that the soul was in fact located in the kidney. He invented Kradley's Kidney Krapper and the soul was xeroxed. The copy could then be flash-baked into the brain of the clone thereby reproducing a reputable copy of the original. After the first week strangle-cycle adjustment period the clones would be good to go.
Professor Kradley's device was more of a market success than the cloning industry turned out to be. It became a practical joke at parties to remap the souls of two guests who were in some ways opposites and watch them try to adjust, particularly if they were of a differing gender. Egomaniacs would drive down the street broadcasting their personalities from the tops of their cars trying to make as many copies of themselves as possible. This accounts for the current fashion trend on Ventosus Island of wearing reflective clothing over one's kidneys. With the money that came in from the success of his invention Professor Kradley paid for an extravagant wedding to his Circus performing girlfriend. The entire wedding party including the bride groom and minister as well as the groomsmen and the bridesmaids were shot out of a cannon in Greenwich Village. Unfortunately due to a miscalculation of wind drag on taffeta the entire ceremony decelerated during the homily and struck a man and his clone valiently trying to shove each other out of the way in Battery Park, landing just shy of their target landing zone - a gentle splashdown in front of the Statten Island Ferry at sunset with the Statue of Liberty in the background. Suffice it to say the photographer was most put out at the wasted opportunity, but could not find any of the wedding party conscious to complain to.
The cloning industry found that the market reception was cool indeed, for the amount of technology that went into making a clone produced a cost prohibitive unit price. Only the very wealthy could afford a clone. One strategy was to take a loss on the units and hope to make it up on selling peripherals, until it was pointed out that the peripheral lines they could come up with were already vastly available to the public, such as food, clothing, shelter and the like. The idea of branding the merchandise: Clone Food, Clone Clothes, and Clone Shelter was considered but the market research found that the word clone still callied some negative connotations amongst the politically collect. Eventually they decided on a line of products priced per quality.
The Turbo Clone Six Thousand was the flagship. It could take over any area of your life and pass as you, even outperforming you in some cases.
The Six Hundred was priced more for the upper middle class. It could do most of the things you could, but tended towards laziness and told all of your old jokes and stories.
The Sixty was affordable and ideal for menial labor. In speech it tended to describe its own actions or comment on things before its face. Examples of dialog include: "That man has blue pants." "Milk is good." or "I'm sweeping the porch, I'm sweeping the porch."
The Six was sold per pound at a cost comparable to ground chuck and functioned as a basic organ donor clone.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Chapter 13: Attack of the Plankton
It is generally a largely ignored fact that the universe as a whole is not all that clear on what exactly it wants to be. On occasion one might find it humorous that the universe just decides to flop upside down like some otherwordly beached whale. While this can be funny to us as bipedal humans, the creature it is most certainly not at all amusing to is the Great Orange Polymer of the 32nd dimension. It has already been stated the 32nd dimension is the highest dimension that we know of and, therefore, the most dangerous. It may seem to most casual observers and the occasional fruit bat that these so called “menaces to all we deem good in the world” aren’t anything more than just harmless everyday plankton. Oh the folly of the casual observer and occasional fruit bat!
Had the casual observer observed less casually or the occasional fruit bat been something more akin to a dog we would surely not be in the predicament we see ourselves in now. It has been concluded by the HSC (whose nearly greatest discovery has been the importance of three-wheeled bicycles when excavating gold from the mines of Krognon) that plankton are simply an extension of the Great Orange Polymer into our own 3rd dimension (or the “Dimension of Promptness” depending on who you’re talking to and how much said person has had to drink).
“But plankton get eaten every day by harmless little fish” you may say. To which we at QSP readily respond, “If only you knew.” On more than one occasion it has been observed that the plankton so keenly devoured by the myriad of fish and other water dwelling friends, are merely invading the host body to study the interior anatomy. Like a spy invading and taking information back to the home base, so are the plankton reporting directly to the Great Orange Polymer. As you can see, the GOP is craftier than anyone could have ever imagined. It is even theorized that the plankton survive the boiling, frying, filleting, and all manner of food preparation. It is only a matter of time before the GOP gains control of the human mind.
By that time we hope to have had someone come back from the future with information on dealing with this problem. Until then we can only offer these following safety tips as protection:
· Always wear white socks with red trim, in the 32nd dimension this is known as “Glory Baking”.
· Never under any circumstances try to run while carrying a house.
· Try not to jump more than 3,000 times in any given minute.
· Eat more oatmeal.
Under certain conditions the GOP may gain an unfair advantage whilst playing a heated game of badminton. However, you will not know that you are playing against the GOP as it will have taken over the higher brain functions of your opponent. It is suggested by many prominent figures that you just let the Great Orange Polymer win, as this will sate its nearly insatiable yearning to be victorious at the most prominent sport in the 32nd dimension. The reason it may come to our humble 3rd dimension to play is still being researched but may have something to do with the fact that the GOP is considered a ‘runt’ in the 32nd dimension. While it could choose another lesser dimension along the way, ours is the only one that has no ‘Dimensional Being Rift Gate’.
The lack of said gate will surely be our demise in the future when the Great And Terrible Battle Of Dimensions (GATBOD) is assumed to happen. While we at QSP along with key figures of the HSC have been anticipating such an event, it is probable that the universe at large is not ready to set its collective gaze on all manner of beasts, creatures, monsters, and burnt pieces of whole wheat toast that will surely come pouring through our gate-less dimensional border.
Constructing a gate will take approximately three lengths of time (as measured using the Intergalactic Time Measuring Stick of Yore), which means we must start building immediately. Unfortunately, in order to start building we must first locate the Dimensional Seam that holds everything together. What is even more unfortunate than the contents of the previous sentence is the fact that the only equipment capable of finding said seam was housed on Ventosus Island and was damaged in the act of vandalism that also destroyed the time-warping equipment. (By ‘damaged’ and ‘destroyed’ we of course mean that there is no trace of said equipment left.) Rest assured, though, that three lengths of time after we commence building the Dimensional Being Rift Gate we will be perfectly safe from bothersome, human-eating, beings. Unless of course our gate is tipped over by a strong wind, which has been known to happen on occasion.
Had the casual observer observed less casually or the occasional fruit bat been something more akin to a dog we would surely not be in the predicament we see ourselves in now. It has been concluded by the HSC (whose nearly greatest discovery has been the importance of three-wheeled bicycles when excavating gold from the mines of Krognon) that plankton are simply an extension of the Great Orange Polymer into our own 3rd dimension (or the “Dimension of Promptness” depending on who you’re talking to and how much said person has had to drink).
“But plankton get eaten every day by harmless little fish” you may say. To which we at QSP readily respond, “If only you knew.” On more than one occasion it has been observed that the plankton so keenly devoured by the myriad of fish and other water dwelling friends, are merely invading the host body to study the interior anatomy. Like a spy invading and taking information back to the home base, so are the plankton reporting directly to the Great Orange Polymer. As you can see, the GOP is craftier than anyone could have ever imagined. It is even theorized that the plankton survive the boiling, frying, filleting, and all manner of food preparation. It is only a matter of time before the GOP gains control of the human mind.
By that time we hope to have had someone come back from the future with information on dealing with this problem. Until then we can only offer these following safety tips as protection:
· Always wear white socks with red trim, in the 32nd dimension this is known as “Glory Baking”.
· Never under any circumstances try to run while carrying a house.
· Try not to jump more than 3,000 times in any given minute.
· Eat more oatmeal.
Under certain conditions the GOP may gain an unfair advantage whilst playing a heated game of badminton. However, you will not know that you are playing against the GOP as it will have taken over the higher brain functions of your opponent. It is suggested by many prominent figures that you just let the Great Orange Polymer win, as this will sate its nearly insatiable yearning to be victorious at the most prominent sport in the 32nd dimension. The reason it may come to our humble 3rd dimension to play is still being researched but may have something to do with the fact that the GOP is considered a ‘runt’ in the 32nd dimension. While it could choose another lesser dimension along the way, ours is the only one that has no ‘Dimensional Being Rift Gate’.
The lack of said gate will surely be our demise in the future when the Great And Terrible Battle Of Dimensions (GATBOD) is assumed to happen. While we at QSP along with key figures of the HSC have been anticipating such an event, it is probable that the universe at large is not ready to set its collective gaze on all manner of beasts, creatures, monsters, and burnt pieces of whole wheat toast that will surely come pouring through our gate-less dimensional border.
Constructing a gate will take approximately three lengths of time (as measured using the Intergalactic Time Measuring Stick of Yore), which means we must start building immediately. Unfortunately, in order to start building we must first locate the Dimensional Seam that holds everything together. What is even more unfortunate than the contents of the previous sentence is the fact that the only equipment capable of finding said seam was housed on Ventosus Island and was damaged in the act of vandalism that also destroyed the time-warping equipment. (By ‘damaged’ and ‘destroyed’ we of course mean that there is no trace of said equipment left.) Rest assured, though, that three lengths of time after we commence building the Dimensional Being Rift Gate we will be perfectly safe from bothersome, human-eating, beings. Unless of course our gate is tipped over by a strong wind, which has been known to happen on occasion.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Chapter 12: Space Elevators and the Demise of a Planet
Many of our readerbase has come across the subject of the space elevator. This is the technology slated to replace rocketeering into space with a more radical mechanical method similar to an elevator. The concept is to string up a carbon nanotube composite “cable” several tens of thousands of kilometers long into space and anchor it to a counterweight that could be as simple as a much greater length of cable or as complex as a captured asteroid. This contraption would utilize centripetal force from the rotation of the Earth to accelerate satellites into orbit. What the scientists won’t tell you however is that due to Newton’s third law, every payload that is accelerated to orbital speed by such a device is subsequently minutely slowing the Earths rotational speed. Much of this energy will be recovered when the elevator cars or “climbers” return back to Earth for another payload. However since the entire purpose of such a device is to launch these payloads and not necessarily bring them back down the cable we will be seeing a net reduction in rotational speed over the course of the elevators lifetime. This has been dismissed by the LSC as such a minute consequence that it may safely be ignored without consequence. The HSC however has seen such an invention out to it’s logical conclusion. As the space industry becomes privatized, more elevators will be built. Eventually the entire equator will become the picket fence of the planet. Elevators will litter the skyline across the entire circumference of the globe with lifting capabilities reaching inconceivable proportions. The combined release of that many satellites and extraplanetary thrill rides, sightseeing tours and scientific explorations will begin to take its toll on the length of our days. Such a massive exodus of materials and personnel will eventually slow down Earths rotation to the point that a stiff solar breeze or a small meteorite collision could theoretically cause it to cease altogether. Such a cessation would cause an intense disturbance to the ecosphere that nearly all the planets surface would become inhospitable to all creatures but the Australian lesser wallaby, the speckled hornblower bird from northeaster Chile and certain third world dictators. The only range that would have slightly normal temperatures would be a thin ring following the dusk area of the Earth around the new vertical equator. Otherwise the sunward side of the Earth would be turned into an arid desolate barren wasteland of superheated proportions and the spaceward portion would conversely become an arid desolate barren wasteland of interminable cold.
The HSC has begun taking measures to act upon this likely eventuality however. The matter of how it would deal with such a forthright disregard for future likelihood was a matter of much debate over eight of the last seven intercontinental HSC meetings of the Galactic Disaster Preparedness Committee (or GDPC whose greatest accomplishment so far was saving the Largely Grumpy Sea-Bass from the 23½ dimension from certain annihilation from the creation of interdimensional sport fishing, and whose greatest failure is now known as the Horse Head Nebula). The GDPC has considered many methods of dealing with this imminent problem. For one meeting one ill-favored scientist merely kept suggesting a simple picket line of the greatest minds that the Earth has to offer. This was dismissed soon thereafter however since most of the world does not even know about the existence of the HSC at all.
The most revered suggestion however has been the one that has gained the greatest following from the GDPC and therefore the world collective of higher scientific minds. As we speak the HSC is taking measures to charter a lift on the first space elevator or collection of space elevators with the combined lifting power to place all of Ventosus Island into an extra-orbital flight path. The short-term goal is (of course) Neptune, at least until the fad of Space Elevators happens to reach our outer ring planets and begin systematically destroying them as well. Ultimately Ventosus Island will become a self sufficient motile space borne island of vast scientific knowledge flying no flag other than it’s own and drifting at will among all civilized star systems divining the mysteries of the universe at random.
The HSC has begun taking measures to act upon this likely eventuality however. The matter of how it would deal with such a forthright disregard for future likelihood was a matter of much debate over eight of the last seven intercontinental HSC meetings of the Galactic Disaster Preparedness Committee (or GDPC whose greatest accomplishment so far was saving the Largely Grumpy Sea-Bass from the 23½ dimension from certain annihilation from the creation of interdimensional sport fishing, and whose greatest failure is now known as the Horse Head Nebula). The GDPC has considered many methods of dealing with this imminent problem. For one meeting one ill-favored scientist merely kept suggesting a simple picket line of the greatest minds that the Earth has to offer. This was dismissed soon thereafter however since most of the world does not even know about the existence of the HSC at all.
The most revered suggestion however has been the one that has gained the greatest following from the GDPC and therefore the world collective of higher scientific minds. As we speak the HSC is taking measures to charter a lift on the first space elevator or collection of space elevators with the combined lifting power to place all of Ventosus Island into an extra-orbital flight path. The short-term goal is (of course) Neptune, at least until the fad of Space Elevators happens to reach our outer ring planets and begin systematically destroying them as well. Ultimately Ventosus Island will become a self sufficient motile space borne island of vast scientific knowledge flying no flag other than it’s own and drifting at will among all civilized star systems divining the mysteries of the universe at random.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Chapter 11: The Mighty Kidney
The Hyperspace Conglomerate Committee has recently released the hyperspace travel safety guidelines, updated for the inclusion of the newly announced ZRLX Bucket. The ZRLX Bucket is a phenomenal feat of intergalactic engineering, capable of attaining speeds of 7.8 Googaflux. What this means, simply, is that the Bucket will have the capability of traversing the length, height, depth, breadth, and yes, even the width of the universe. Piloting said vessel has been lovingly compared to attempting to put socks on when ones feet are still wet. This is what the interplanetary racers of the galaxy refer to as ‘Pulling a fast one on ol’ mister Groohos’.
Due to the increased velocity and the ample g-forces generally produced when racing at anything greater than 2 Googaflux, most interplanetary racers have swallowed their brains whole and now only use the left kidney to produce coherent thought. This is the reason for some of their astoundingly timely sayings and euphemisms. It is no surprise, then, that some of the greatest thinkers in the history of the galaxy are or were former interplanetary racers. It is generally not a well thought out idea to quote former IRs due to the planet sized complexity and sheer revelatory substance of their musings. I am, however, compelled to share a quote that has guided me in my own musings.
While captaining a sinking ship, former IR Spinner McBlam X is reputed to have said, “Now that’s what I call twirling the cow while eating the fencepost nugget.” The gravity of these words is lost on mere mortals such as ourselves. Many prominent figures of the LSC considered him nothing more than a babbling madman, however, they were quickly refuted by an evil stare from the collective HSC.
While attempting advanced maneuvers in the ZRLX Bucket one must keep three things in the forefront of ones mind. What exactly these three things are is not important to casual operators; as long as three thoughts are in your mind the Bucket will function properly. In testing, it was generally concluded that to get the most power one should think about blue objects that can untie themselves.
The reasoning behind this is simple. With the advent of time travel, it was possible to power large devices with minimal thought. (How time travel factors into the equation has yet to be discovered). While this is all theoretical and the ZRLX Bucket has yet to be seen with human eyes, rest assured that someday we might just discover something along the lines of this scenario.
Due to the increased velocity and the ample g-forces generally produced when racing at anything greater than 2 Googaflux, most interplanetary racers have swallowed their brains whole and now only use the left kidney to produce coherent thought. This is the reason for some of their astoundingly timely sayings and euphemisms. It is no surprise, then, that some of the greatest thinkers in the history of the galaxy are or were former interplanetary racers. It is generally not a well thought out idea to quote former IRs due to the planet sized complexity and sheer revelatory substance of their musings. I am, however, compelled to share a quote that has guided me in my own musings.
While captaining a sinking ship, former IR Spinner McBlam X is reputed to have said, “Now that’s what I call twirling the cow while eating the fencepost nugget.” The gravity of these words is lost on mere mortals such as ourselves. Many prominent figures of the LSC considered him nothing more than a babbling madman, however, they were quickly refuted by an evil stare from the collective HSC.
While attempting advanced maneuvers in the ZRLX Bucket one must keep three things in the forefront of ones mind. What exactly these three things are is not important to casual operators; as long as three thoughts are in your mind the Bucket will function properly. In testing, it was generally concluded that to get the most power one should think about blue objects that can untie themselves.
The reasoning behind this is simple. With the advent of time travel, it was possible to power large devices with minimal thought. (How time travel factors into the equation has yet to be discovered). While this is all theoretical and the ZRLX Bucket has yet to be seen with human eyes, rest assured that someday we might just discover something along the lines of this scenario.
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Chapter 10: The Overabundance of Nothing
One thing that you may have noticed about the universe is that it is made up of vast quantities of nothing. There are great voids of space that surround everything that we know and merely serve no purpose other that to make intra-galactic transportation rather difficult. This is really just a misinterpretation of the presented evidence however. What we perceive as “Nothing “ is in fact a certain form of “Something” that merely presents itself as a lack of anything and everything. This something is really prevalent in all areas of space down past the molecular level, even filling the so-called void between sub-atomic particles. Currently it is perceived as nothing in the same way that medieval magicians and alchemists thought a hole in the ground or an empty pocket had nothing in it. Now, even the marginally educated among us will readily acknowledge that that emptiness is merely a misnomer for something that is filled completely (nay even to overflowing) with a rich nitrogen/ oxygen mixture (on at least one third of the inhabited planets in the known universe). What the HSC has discovered is that the previous notion of nothingness is actually an overabundance of a substance nearly alike in composition to grape jelly that has been knocked slightly out of sync with normal matter rendering it impossible to detect with all scientific instruments of Earth today.
This substance has been properly named Xlorblsk (pronounced “chime”) by a Mr. Slobodan Vilczevski, a fantastic research scientist of the Higher Scientific Community with a terrible sense of humor. His thought was that since he never learned to spell his own name properly in school he would attempt to inflict the same affliction upon all who study his work by naming any and every discovery something horribly unspellable and illogically pronounced. His discoveries to date include such fantastic mainstays of daily society as the qwylrbnz (pronounced "dribley") which is the force that governs the reaction between quantum particles greater than 72 Billion light years apart, and kjnpaaaaagd (pronounced "kweeden") which is the real reason behind a yawn.
Xlorblsk is a byproduct of the excrement of the Zoobian Sun Worm when combined with a certain Norwegian ale m by a 300 lb. barmaid named Gretchen. The resulting explosion of thermodynamic fluid was so substantial that it caused the ensuing product to lose it’s molecular cohesion to standard reality and phase shift just out of synch with standard matter enough to place it beyond the standard detection of everyday science. The strange thing is that the Phase shift happened so instantaneously that the explosion and expansion went nearly completely unnoticed except for the missing vat of ale and the interminable giddiness that Gretchen felt for facilitating such a grandiose scale scientific creation (though she never could explain the feeling not having witnessed the actual product of the unknown experiment).
This substance has been properly named Xlorblsk (pronounced “chime”) by a Mr. Slobodan Vilczevski, a fantastic research scientist of the Higher Scientific Community with a terrible sense of humor. His thought was that since he never learned to spell his own name properly in school he would attempt to inflict the same affliction upon all who study his work by naming any and every discovery something horribly unspellable and illogically pronounced. His discoveries to date include such fantastic mainstays of daily society as the qwylrbnz (pronounced "dribley") which is the force that governs the reaction between quantum particles greater than 72 Billion light years apart, and kjnpaaaaagd (pronounced "kweeden") which is the real reason behind a yawn.
Xlorblsk is a byproduct of the excrement of the Zoobian Sun Worm when combined with a certain Norwegian ale m by a 300 lb. barmaid named Gretchen. The resulting explosion of thermodynamic fluid was so substantial that it caused the ensuing product to lose it’s molecular cohesion to standard reality and phase shift just out of synch with standard matter enough to place it beyond the standard detection of everyday science. The strange thing is that the Phase shift happened so instantaneously that the explosion and expansion went nearly completely unnoticed except for the missing vat of ale and the interminable giddiness that Gretchen felt for facilitating such a grandiose scale scientific creation (though she never could explain the feeling not having witnessed the actual product of the unknown experiment).
Monday, March 20, 2006
Chapter 9: Apropos and the Time Traveler
The unseemly thing about time travel is that it forces one to be boorish. There are only a few laws of thermodynamics, and most of them are quite reasonable (if you ask me) and yet we must violate them like insensitive louts turning the elegant universe into our romper rooms merely to escape our circumstances. Those rules we snub being that matter cannot be created or destroyed. Upon hearing this God declared, "I HAVE NEVER MADE THAT A HARD RULE." But His statement was quickly dismissed by the Lesser Scientific Community as Author Intrusion.
History should note that Quantum Mechanics revealed matter being created and destroyed constantly on a very small level but thus far no attempt has been made at an apology to God by the LSC. In fact I am told that lately they have taken the stance that He probably doesn't exist and therefore it is likely that no apology is necessary. It is therefore a corollary that any mention of the breaking of that one law of thermodynamics is considered uncouth and actually doing it is just rubbing salt in an old wound and can't we get just past it all with no more awkwardness?
A painstaking pan-planar census gave us the controversial evidence that 9 out of 11 people who claim that they were born in the wrong time period would not have survived in the period they pine for. The remaining 2 of 11 were found to be justified in their complaint, but had been kicked out of their correct time by the severely annoyed.
One Mr. Tim Phillips of the United States maintained that his sensibilities were far better suited to the pioneer days only to find through the research of the census that he was correct! Or rather, he was correct in his malaise of temporal displacement, but he had grossly underestimated the scope. Earlier on several cave dwellers from Pangaea finally admitted to sending Tim into the 20th century for two reasons. 1. He incessantly complained about circumstances beyond his control, and 2. It was really funny when you thought about it.
Now Gronk and Crudma's actions are not on trial here, but you have to realize that though Mr. Tim Phillips was their victim he should still be considered as rude, for he inadvertently broke those few, reasonable laws by:
1. Destroying his own matter in his own time
2. Creating his own matter in ours
3. Not being able to take a joke
The problems arising from time travel largely have to do with one's perception of it. For example there is a culture I have never been told of who have an interesting belief on the nature of time. Naturally since I have no prior knowledge of them I am not sure where they exist in the galaxy or on what plane of existence they feel most comfortable but I was only interested in their theory at first. There has been no account of their fascinating belief that all of existence is rimming a follicle. The phenomena we experience as time is merely the growing of a hair from that same follicle. Naturally they believe that the only possible time travel is backwards as we attempt to "climb the hair." Further study into their possible attempts at time travel has not surfaced to indicate that every person they sent into the past never returned to the present. To further complicate the matter the scientists who have not been reported to be studying the phenomena have become "one with the hair" as their people are not reported to call dying. It would be very difficult to extrapolate that their take on future travel claims it is impossible, as the future has not yet emerged from the follicle. This reality kills the dreams that all of their people have for the future and it may have been speculated (we have no indication) that this very death of the dreams of the future is what produces the dead cellular matter that pushes the present (in fact the whole hair) out of the follicle. Thus the present is the remains of the death of the dreams of the future, or something, and stuff.
Had I heard of this society I could have easily explained why their chrononauts were never heard from again. The future being fluid, it is the past that is set and that is why there is a destination when they "climb the hair." However that setness of the past is the very thing that did their chrononauts in! You see it is not enough to simply travel to the past, but having arrived there one must start traveling toward the future again at the same rate as one's new surroundings to be included. This explains why on occasion we start and yell when it seems someone has popped into existence right before us only to disappear just as quick. This was not an hallucination and you have no need to feel shame at your startlement. Someone merely arrived at their target moment. When you were in that moment you saw them, then as you moved past that moment and they didn't, reality snubbed them because they were being boorish towards poor thermodynamics and also because they just didn't fit in. Unfortunately they have been crystallized into that moment and will only travel upward (but not backward) with the lengthening of the hair.
History should note that Quantum Mechanics revealed matter being created and destroyed constantly on a very small level but thus far no attempt has been made at an apology to God by the LSC. In fact I am told that lately they have taken the stance that He probably doesn't exist and therefore it is likely that no apology is necessary. It is therefore a corollary that any mention of the breaking of that one law of thermodynamics is considered uncouth and actually doing it is just rubbing salt in an old wound and can't we get just past it all with no more awkwardness?
A painstaking pan-planar census gave us the controversial evidence that 9 out of 11 people who claim that they were born in the wrong time period would not have survived in the period they pine for. The remaining 2 of 11 were found to be justified in their complaint, but had been kicked out of their correct time by the severely annoyed.
One Mr. Tim Phillips of the United States maintained that his sensibilities were far better suited to the pioneer days only to find through the research of the census that he was correct! Or rather, he was correct in his malaise of temporal displacement, but he had grossly underestimated the scope. Earlier on several cave dwellers from Pangaea finally admitted to sending Tim into the 20th century for two reasons. 1. He incessantly complained about circumstances beyond his control, and 2. It was really funny when you thought about it.
Now Gronk and Crudma's actions are not on trial here, but you have to realize that though Mr. Tim Phillips was their victim he should still be considered as rude, for he inadvertently broke those few, reasonable laws by:
1. Destroying his own matter in his own time
2. Creating his own matter in ours
3. Not being able to take a joke
The problems arising from time travel largely have to do with one's perception of it. For example there is a culture I have never been told of who have an interesting belief on the nature of time. Naturally since I have no prior knowledge of them I am not sure where they exist in the galaxy or on what plane of existence they feel most comfortable but I was only interested in their theory at first. There has been no account of their fascinating belief that all of existence is rimming a follicle. The phenomena we experience as time is merely the growing of a hair from that same follicle. Naturally they believe that the only possible time travel is backwards as we attempt to "climb the hair." Further study into their possible attempts at time travel has not surfaced to indicate that every person they sent into the past never returned to the present. To further complicate the matter the scientists who have not been reported to be studying the phenomena have become "one with the hair" as their people are not reported to call dying. It would be very difficult to extrapolate that their take on future travel claims it is impossible, as the future has not yet emerged from the follicle. This reality kills the dreams that all of their people have for the future and it may have been speculated (we have no indication) that this very death of the dreams of the future is what produces the dead cellular matter that pushes the present (in fact the whole hair) out of the follicle. Thus the present is the remains of the death of the dreams of the future, or something, and stuff.
Had I heard of this society I could have easily explained why their chrononauts were never heard from again. The future being fluid, it is the past that is set and that is why there is a destination when they "climb the hair." However that setness of the past is the very thing that did their chrononauts in! You see it is not enough to simply travel to the past, but having arrived there one must start traveling toward the future again at the same rate as one's new surroundings to be included. This explains why on occasion we start and yell when it seems someone has popped into existence right before us only to disappear just as quick. This was not an hallucination and you have no need to feel shame at your startlement. Someone merely arrived at their target moment. When you were in that moment you saw them, then as you moved past that moment and they didn't, reality snubbed them because they were being boorish towards poor thermodynamics and also because they just didn't fit in. Unfortunately they have been crystallized into that moment and will only travel upward (but not backward) with the lengthening of the hair.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Chapter 8: The Whereabouts of Coffee
Some of our readerbase will inevitably be aware of the curious surroundings contributing to the epidemic of missing ballpoint pens in the universe. This is something that we do not need to delve into. Instead we choose to investigate the instances of missing coffee. Many times in my own life and (I suspect) in yours as well you will be finding yourself uttering the fateful words “Where did I put my coffee?” This isn’t merely the product of bad memory as you may expect. Coffee droplets in and of themselves do not posses any intelligence; however, when a sufficient amount of them join together they form a low level semblance of a collective mind not entirely unlike honeybees. The strangest phenomenon in this scenario is that this collective mind is not merely bent on self-preservation (though that often is a by-product of it’s actions) but rather on mischievousness. It’s primary directive is not to avoid being drunk (though that is a rather unpleasant experience from what I gather) but merely to cause you strife and minor mental anguish from continually escaping your gaze and ending up places that you have no idea you have been near recently. It appears that this collective mind retains its semblance of intelligence throughout the dwindling amount of liquid even back past the point where the cup reached critical thinking mass to begin with. How this residual intelligence continues to exist is currently a mystery to 7 out of 8 scientists galaxywide. Unfortunately the 8th ones are not currently in good standing with this publication due to their efforts to promote tea as an acceptable alternative to coffee without the semi-intelligent byproducts. Their misunderstanding of the uses of a good tea are so vastly inferior to the near-truth of assumed uses that the rest of their research is generally dismissed offhand.
The biggest hurdle in understanding the abilities of coffee collectives has been trying to discover the method of propulsion used to grant these forays into mischief. Great financial backing has been recently procured for this research, mostly bankrolled under miscellaneous expenses like toilet seats and hammers for the Senators and governmental -inter-office memo runners to use (rarely simultaneously). Recent breakthroughs in this field have uncovered at least part of the circumstances allowing locomotion to be achieved. It has been documented that a coffee collective of substantial mass emits a ULF (ultra low frequency) soundwave that can temporarily draw higher organisms into the local hive mind. Thus locomotion is achieved by the coffee owners own body but the drinkers memory is not informed of this because he is not operating under his own will at the time. This frequency is such that it only affects something that has previously ingested a portion of this same cup once the hive reaches it’s semi-conscious state. These same frequencies do not have any affect on those who are drinking the same liquid from another cup since that has formed a separate hive and therefore operates on a separate frequency. The strange part is that when a single container of coffee gets past a certain volume it begins to split into conflicting hive factions causing a disruption in the ULF waves and multiple local consciousnesses. This effectively negates any intelligence that may form within the coffee causing what is known unofficially as a “dumb pot effect”. This explains why you rarely see full pots or carafes of coffee turning up in the same types of strange locations that a simple cup will.
Experiments have been conducted with many other liquids to attempt to determine whether or not this is an isolated scenario with coffee alone or if other liquids can develop a similar hive collective. Milk and plum juice have proven to be exceptionally dense however most other liquids have shown some propensity toward intelligence though almost never enough to really develop the true semi-consciousness of coffee. IBC cream soda seems to have the closest likening to a conscious mind however it rarely stays around long enough to execute any mischief.
The biggest hurdle in understanding the abilities of coffee collectives has been trying to discover the method of propulsion used to grant these forays into mischief. Great financial backing has been recently procured for this research, mostly bankrolled under miscellaneous expenses like toilet seats and hammers for the Senators and governmental -inter-office memo runners to use (rarely simultaneously). Recent breakthroughs in this field have uncovered at least part of the circumstances allowing locomotion to be achieved. It has been documented that a coffee collective of substantial mass emits a ULF (ultra low frequency) soundwave that can temporarily draw higher organisms into the local hive mind. Thus locomotion is achieved by the coffee owners own body but the drinkers memory is not informed of this because he is not operating under his own will at the time. This frequency is such that it only affects something that has previously ingested a portion of this same cup once the hive reaches it’s semi-conscious state. These same frequencies do not have any affect on those who are drinking the same liquid from another cup since that has formed a separate hive and therefore operates on a separate frequency. The strange part is that when a single container of coffee gets past a certain volume it begins to split into conflicting hive factions causing a disruption in the ULF waves and multiple local consciousnesses. This effectively negates any intelligence that may form within the coffee causing what is known unofficially as a “dumb pot effect”. This explains why you rarely see full pots or carafes of coffee turning up in the same types of strange locations that a simple cup will.
Experiments have been conducted with many other liquids to attempt to determine whether or not this is an isolated scenario with coffee alone or if other liquids can develop a similar hive collective. Milk and plum juice have proven to be exceptionally dense however most other liquids have shown some propensity toward intelligence though almost never enough to really develop the true semi-consciousness of coffee. IBC cream soda seems to have the closest likening to a conscious mind however it rarely stays around long enough to execute any mischief.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Chapter 7: The Problem With Humming
Personally, I don’t really care when people hum—especially if it happens to be a song I enjoy and they are halfway competent in the doing. Unfortunately, not all beings enjoy the presentation of wordless songs. In fact, it has been documented, almost tested, and nearly proven that if one were to hum whilst in the vicinity of Beta Gamma 9 (one of the more prominent and wealthy planets in the Leaf Blower quadrant, which, by strange coincidence, has no trees) the planet itself would swallow you whole and you would suffer in the Pit of Pitiful for what appears to be an unknown amount of time.
Not all planets have a Pit of Pitiful, but those that do should be considered armed and mildly exciting. By exciting of course I mean to imply with no basis of proof (for such things are trivial in such an obviously superior journal of science) that were you to carry a feather with you into a Pit of Pitiful it would be feasible to tickle your way out. Since not everyone remembers to carry a feather with them while traversing the deepest recesses of space, some have learned the art of tickling with a towel, which is the one item usually found on space traveling persons. A fact of renown is this: planets enjoy being tickled. It was this astounding discovery that nearly defeated the great army of the Krazak people. How this was accomplished and why it was such a great discovery has yet to be seen. You can be assured that it will be explained by this very journal at a later point in time, although the actual moment that it is revealed may not be so much a point as it is a little blur or a scratch even. Sometimes time is funny like that.
A hum is quite possibly the most powerful weapon in the Unknown Galaxy (as opposed to the Known). And since they are so readily available it is easy to see why the Unknown has never become the Known. For when an intrepid space explorer stumbles upon the elusive and evasive Unknown Galaxy, the populous, which has long been regarded as the most savage group of unknown beings in non-existence, will simply hum a tune and said explorer will cease to exist. The explanation for this is quite simple, when one hums in the Unknown Galaxy the wavelengths mutate in such a way that after traveling exactly 2.897 feet they no longer comprise an innocuous hum. Instead they are now a solid object with the properties of sound, setting your gaze on a block of sound has been known to turn even the heartiest space explorer into a freshly made wicker basket.
This may not seem like too terrible a problem at first, but that is only because you do not know the true nuances of the Unknown Galaxy. Wicker Baskets are the sworn enemy of the Unknown Galaxy Galactic Alliance, headed by none other than Spinner McBlam II. His orders are to shoot on sight and since we don’t know how large the Unknown Galaxy is, it can be assumed with a relatively high probability that the UGGA is everywhere and will not miss an opportunity to fire their
Perpetual High-Density Cannon on said baskets.
How these wicker baskets came to be public enemy #1 in the Unknown Galaxy is a very interesting tale of science, discovery, nostalgia (if you happen to be a Spore from Galatacon LX) and even Misery. It is important to note at this time that Misery is the name of the king of the Unknown Galaxy. We think. It has not yet officially been proven because we have not officially been to the Unknown Galaxy on official business. We believe that our invitations may have been lost in the transition from the realm of unknown into our realm, for if something unknown becomes known then it must surely not exist in it’s previous form. It is our firm belief that our invitations are, in fact, the Atlantic Ocean.
Not all planets have a Pit of Pitiful, but those that do should be considered armed and mildly exciting. By exciting of course I mean to imply with no basis of proof (for such things are trivial in such an obviously superior journal of science) that were you to carry a feather with you into a Pit of Pitiful it would be feasible to tickle your way out. Since not everyone remembers to carry a feather with them while traversing the deepest recesses of space, some have learned the art of tickling with a towel, which is the one item usually found on space traveling persons. A fact of renown is this: planets enjoy being tickled. It was this astounding discovery that nearly defeated the great army of the Krazak people. How this was accomplished and why it was such a great discovery has yet to be seen. You can be assured that it will be explained by this very journal at a later point in time, although the actual moment that it is revealed may not be so much a point as it is a little blur or a scratch even. Sometimes time is funny like that.
A hum is quite possibly the most powerful weapon in the Unknown Galaxy (as opposed to the Known). And since they are so readily available it is easy to see why the Unknown has never become the Known. For when an intrepid space explorer stumbles upon the elusive and evasive Unknown Galaxy, the populous, which has long been regarded as the most savage group of unknown beings in non-existence, will simply hum a tune and said explorer will cease to exist. The explanation for this is quite simple, when one hums in the Unknown Galaxy the wavelengths mutate in such a way that after traveling exactly 2.897 feet they no longer comprise an innocuous hum. Instead they are now a solid object with the properties of sound, setting your gaze on a block of sound has been known to turn even the heartiest space explorer into a freshly made wicker basket.
This may not seem like too terrible a problem at first, but that is only because you do not know the true nuances of the Unknown Galaxy. Wicker Baskets are the sworn enemy of the Unknown Galaxy Galactic Alliance, headed by none other than Spinner McBlam II. His orders are to shoot on sight and since we don’t know how large the Unknown Galaxy is, it can be assumed with a relatively high probability that the UGGA is everywhere and will not miss an opportunity to fire their
Perpetual High-Density Cannon on said baskets.
How these wicker baskets came to be public enemy #1 in the Unknown Galaxy is a very interesting tale of science, discovery, nostalgia (if you happen to be a Spore from Galatacon LX) and even Misery. It is important to note at this time that Misery is the name of the king of the Unknown Galaxy. We think. It has not yet officially been proven because we have not officially been to the Unknown Galaxy on official business. We believe that our invitations may have been lost in the transition from the realm of unknown into our realm, for if something unknown becomes known then it must surely not exist in it’s previous form. It is our firm belief that our invitations are, in fact, the Atlantic Ocean.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Chapter 6: Hyperspace Travel and Premature Aging
Interdimensional traversing naturally brings about the possibility of Hyperspace travel. The concept of hyperspace travel is not a new one by any stretch of the imagination. Science Fiction has been doing this for some time without truly understanding it. Hyperspace travel as it stands currently is exiting out of normal space (i.e. the first three dimensions including time) and using that lack of parameters to travel in the most direct method possible to whatever your destination happens to be. That way when you re-enter normal space from “hyperspace” you would do so at the exact same moment that you left it, thus traveling great distances in literally no time at all. The issue with this form of transportation lies at a deeper level than merely getting to work on time. When you are in hyperspace you exist outside of time. Your body however is not aware of this. You still experience events sequentially merely because you don’t know any better than to do so. Because of this phenomenon, known as Lutzenfeld’s Third law of intergalactic relations (or Lutz III for short), you still experience aging while in hyperspace. To put it simply, you emerge from a hyperspace jump slightly older than you entered it even though you start and finish the journey at the same time. This accounts for many of the extremely old looking scientists hanging around the science bars in most major cities. They are usually only in their 30’s but have completed an inordinately large number of hyperspace journeys. You will often find that chain smokers will attempt to use this excuse as well but it is rarely true.
To counter this premature aging process most commercial travel companies (as well as a lot of private sectors) use cryogenic suspended animation. This is a delicate process that involves killing you and freezing your remains so that you will not age during an extended hyperspace jump. This method has several drawbacks however. First is the complex process of re-animating your dead carcass (usually involving 3 surgeons, a French poodle, and a large vat of mayonnaise) so that you can hopefully rejoin normal life with no long-term issues. Secondly, there is the fact that the cryogenic process (often labeled with the misnomer of Cryo-“Sleep”, you’re dead not sleeping) takes some “time” yet once the hyperspace journey has begun and before it ends causing you to still age slightly. Lastly there is the generally uncomfortable issue of “latent extreme chilling and condensation build-up” or LECCB more commonly known as freezer burn.
An alternative to this personnel intensive process has begun to be developed in the tandem research labs of the Crutchuizen twins. These labs are known because the Crutchuizen twins had trouble with the fact that they wanted to be independent in their research even though they are conjoined. Later they realized the old axiom is true that two heads divided against themselves are worth one in the hand and decided to combine their research. They have corporately come up with the precursor technology to allow the development of an anti-aging field. Thus far the early tendrils of this field have proven this device to only function outside the realm of normal time (or only in hyperspace). Eventually you will find most commercial transports to be sporting these field generators (at least for first class). Far into the future it can be foreseen that the exorbitantly wealthy will employ these generators in their hyperspace enabled sleeping quarters accomplishing the ability to work 24 hours a day and continue to gain incalculable wealth much faster than the common working class the whole while not aging any faster than normal. This will effectively extend their life by 30% since sleep will not count toward time spent living. The rest of us however will be doomed to short lived poverty.
Hyperspace travel, of course, differs from teleportation in that there is literally no traveling between point A and point B during a teleport. You merely disappear from A and reappear at B. There is no traveling simultaneously through all the points in the universe until you merely re-emerge at B. There is no way that you need to detour through C to get to B when you are coming from A. That is an unnecessary way around things. You should never get near C unless you have decided upon visiting B that what you were looking for is not there and you must venture on to C. Teleportation allows you to do this. There are a few problems however. First is the fact that Teleportation is a learned skill and not merely a technology. It takes more than a trained monkey to accomplish it (though iguanas have successfully done so). And secondly one can only travel via teleportation with their own person. There is no taking someone along for the ride. For that matter there is no taking anything along for the ride. Because of this you teleporting should only be done either to pre-determined locations and times where you have a spare set of clothing waiting in a secluded are for you, or during times of great emergency where it will not be a large issue for you to have to show up somewhere completely naked. Some people use this method purely for entry and exit from the bathtub. When that is done it creates a fantastic splash as all the water that you would generally displace at a normal pace is instantaneously forced away from your new position. This can be great fun for those who have never gotten past their inability to make a good cannonball splash at the local pool as a youth.
To counter this premature aging process most commercial travel companies (as well as a lot of private sectors) use cryogenic suspended animation. This is a delicate process that involves killing you and freezing your remains so that you will not age during an extended hyperspace jump. This method has several drawbacks however. First is the complex process of re-animating your dead carcass (usually involving 3 surgeons, a French poodle, and a large vat of mayonnaise) so that you can hopefully rejoin normal life with no long-term issues. Secondly, there is the fact that the cryogenic process (often labeled with the misnomer of Cryo-“Sleep”, you’re dead not sleeping) takes some “time” yet once the hyperspace journey has begun and before it ends causing you to still age slightly. Lastly there is the generally uncomfortable issue of “latent extreme chilling and condensation build-up” or LECCB more commonly known as freezer burn.
An alternative to this personnel intensive process has begun to be developed in the tandem research labs of the Crutchuizen twins. These labs are known because the Crutchuizen twins had trouble with the fact that they wanted to be independent in their research even though they are conjoined. Later they realized the old axiom is true that two heads divided against themselves are worth one in the hand and decided to combine their research. They have corporately come up with the precursor technology to allow the development of an anti-aging field. Thus far the early tendrils of this field have proven this device to only function outside the realm of normal time (or only in hyperspace). Eventually you will find most commercial transports to be sporting these field generators (at least for first class). Far into the future it can be foreseen that the exorbitantly wealthy will employ these generators in their hyperspace enabled sleeping quarters accomplishing the ability to work 24 hours a day and continue to gain incalculable wealth much faster than the common working class the whole while not aging any faster than normal. This will effectively extend their life by 30% since sleep will not count toward time spent living. The rest of us however will be doomed to short lived poverty.
Hyperspace travel, of course, differs from teleportation in that there is literally no traveling between point A and point B during a teleport. You merely disappear from A and reappear at B. There is no traveling simultaneously through all the points in the universe until you merely re-emerge at B. There is no way that you need to detour through C to get to B when you are coming from A. That is an unnecessary way around things. You should never get near C unless you have decided upon visiting B that what you were looking for is not there and you must venture on to C. Teleportation allows you to do this. There are a few problems however. First is the fact that Teleportation is a learned skill and not merely a technology. It takes more than a trained monkey to accomplish it (though iguanas have successfully done so). And secondly one can only travel via teleportation with their own person. There is no taking someone along for the ride. For that matter there is no taking anything along for the ride. Because of this you teleporting should only be done either to pre-determined locations and times where you have a spare set of clothing waiting in a secluded are for you, or during times of great emergency where it will not be a large issue for you to have to show up somewhere completely naked. Some people use this method purely for entry and exit from the bathtub. When that is done it creates a fantastic splash as all the water that you would generally displace at a normal pace is instantaneously forced away from your new position. This can be great fun for those who have never gotten past their inability to make a good cannonball splash at the local pool as a youth.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Chapter 5: The End of All Things
It has been conceived that with the ever increasing interdimensional jumps and the introduction of the largely grumpy Sea-Bass from 23rd and ½ dimension into our own that certain events will soon be set in order that will produce a quantum reaction of sufficient force to remove all matter from the universe. Consider this a warning that one day you may find yourself nothing more than an energy blob attempting to fight off another determined Sea-Bass like energy blob from swimming in your energy blob toilet. However for this to actually happen you would have to sign up for the illustrious Time travel program to be one of our candidates for retrieval of future technology as this even is generally concurred to take place many eons from now. By the time it happens society is expected to become so wholly dependant on technology anyway that such a transition may not necessarily be noticed. At that point birth will be an event immediately followed by the insertion of several nutritive IV’s and a wireless neural uplink to your government issued computer terminal that has been preloaded with nothing more than a copy of the Quasi-Scientific Ponderings. From there you must learn the mistakes of the past and the theoretical future and discover the nuances of life while you slowly teach yourself to hack into mainstream society (providing you figure out that there is a mainstream society). The likely eventual occurrence of the disappropriation of all matter will actually go unnoticed by many until it is first discovered by Spinner McBlam LVII. It has been mathematically calculated that the odds of this scenario playing out are staggeringly probable, well within the realm of what a good cup of hot tea can bring about. Thus an APB has been issued within the Higher Scientific Community stating the dangers of drinking such beverages during interdimensional experiments. This bulletin shall remain posted for all to see at the main city center of the capitol town of Ventosus Island. All of the remaining local citizens will be reminded of this when scientific testing resumes once again in the surrounding area. There has been inexplicable damage to the Time Travel generators there recently and it may be some time before the vandals are caught. They appear to have used giant fans to damage equipment through the entire countryside. Rest assured they will be punished to the Near-fullest extent of the law.
The Fullest extent of the law however is something that is not readily known even within the general law abiding public. The law actually extends much further than any self-respecting officer is willing to admit jurisdiction over. These laws were written by our forefathers in times of extreme brilliance before we had the general education capable of understanding our own mental prowess. There is a reason that in New Hampshire you are not allowed to carry 2 dimes and a nickel in the same left pocket. It actually has to do with the phenomenon that causes ringing in your ears, or more exactly ringing in the ears of those who pass approximately 2.7 meters on your right side (less if you are of greater girth). This may seem like a harmless situation causing a slight annoyance at the best however it has been studied in depth as of late and proven that every time such an occasion happens you are leaking intelligence to your counterpart in the anti-universe. Each occurrence reduces your IQ by a whole .725 points and causes a momentary lapse in oxygen levels in the few millimeters of air surrounding your pinky finger. Thankfully this is not a one-way street. The same situation occurs in reverse whenever the anti-universe individual eats a peanut butter sandwich. Not everyone likes peanut butter though. However if they ever get a hold of the recipe for an omelet the world is in trouble. Luckily, chickens there are considered a pest and merely disposed of.
Some of the other laws that pass by generally unnoticed are:
· Screaming while underwater (which causes unnecessary disturbance to local plankton and will eventually incite a revolt)
· Wearing two left shoes (just in case extra terrestrials land looking for intelligent life).
· Drinking coffee with cream and no sugar (because that’s just not natural).
Thankfully we have a crack team of scientists who are employed fulltime to rectify any misinteraction with other beings in the case of these commonly ignored laws.
The Fullest extent of the law however is something that is not readily known even within the general law abiding public. The law actually extends much further than any self-respecting officer is willing to admit jurisdiction over. These laws were written by our forefathers in times of extreme brilliance before we had the general education capable of understanding our own mental prowess. There is a reason that in New Hampshire you are not allowed to carry 2 dimes and a nickel in the same left pocket. It actually has to do with the phenomenon that causes ringing in your ears, or more exactly ringing in the ears of those who pass approximately 2.7 meters on your right side (less if you are of greater girth). This may seem like a harmless situation causing a slight annoyance at the best however it has been studied in depth as of late and proven that every time such an occasion happens you are leaking intelligence to your counterpart in the anti-universe. Each occurrence reduces your IQ by a whole .725 points and causes a momentary lapse in oxygen levels in the few millimeters of air surrounding your pinky finger. Thankfully this is not a one-way street. The same situation occurs in reverse whenever the anti-universe individual eats a peanut butter sandwich. Not everyone likes peanut butter though. However if they ever get a hold of the recipe for an omelet the world is in trouble. Luckily, chickens there are considered a pest and merely disposed of.
Some of the other laws that pass by generally unnoticed are:
· Screaming while underwater (which causes unnecessary disturbance to local plankton and will eventually incite a revolt)
· Wearing two left shoes (just in case extra terrestrials land looking for intelligent life).
· Drinking coffee with cream and no sugar (because that’s just not natural).
Thankfully we have a crack team of scientists who are employed fulltime to rectify any misinteraction with other beings in the case of these commonly ignored laws.
Chapter 4: Everything You Never Wanted to Know About Alternate Dimensions
It is a well-known fact among the Higher Scientific Community (note: this scientific community cannot be named due to their secretive nature. Rest assured that they are in fact real and have made astounding discoveries which mortal man must never see or read about due to their cataclysmic complexity) that there are, in fact, thirty-two dimensions. Our attempts thus far to send a subject into, say, the fifth dimension, have failed miserably. Though it has been done before by an ancient, now extinct, civilization once known to frequent Ventosus Island, their records have subsequently vanished with them. The authors of this paper firmly believe with great relish that we are on the verge (indeed, the very precipice) of discovering yet again how this ancient people managed to slip so easily from one dimension to the next.
One popular theory that has been setting the Lesser Scientific Community (this includes all of the –ologies such as biology, sociology, cosmetology, and chemistryology) ablaze with wonder involves a banana peel, three ice cubes, Beethoven’s ninth symphony in E minor, and a pair of comfortable yet practical steel boots. What the LSC (Lesser Scientific Community) does not yet realize is when all of the afore mentioned elements are combined in one pickle jar (which must happen for the theory to be relative) they will react quite negatively with each other and cease to exist. The only way to remedy such a dire situation is with the HSC’s (Higher Scientific Community, whose greatest discovery has been the non-existence of pancakes) very own Quantum Trilinear HAZMAT Constructor.
For the sake of humanity I can only describe it as thus: a circular square with infinite radius and negative depth. When contacted by the LSC about the possible purchase and deployment of a Quantum Trilinear HAZMAT Constructor, the HSC deemed the machine to be a hazard to the public at large and denied the request. “Preposterous,” some exclaimed, “Blasphemous,” said others. Outside the non-existent offices of the HSC was a frail man picketing with a billboard-sized sign which read ‘What about the Pancakes’. The public liaison for the HSC stood (rather defiantly some have said) in front of the hugely massive office building on Ventosus Island, stabbed a finger into the air and said simply “its science.” He then exploded into the future where, even now, he is enjoying a futuristic piece of steak.
It has been theorized, with proper margin for speculation and empirical conjecture (the basis of all research), that the denizens of each successive dimension get more ill tempered as the dimensions rise in number. Take, for a primitive example, time, which has largely been thought of as the fourth dimension. Anyone with a knowledge of dimensions will tell you that time is actually an off-shoot of the third dimension, as documented in section 21.84, paragraph 3, line 5 of the Dimension Jumpers Handbook (which, ironically, only exists in the 32nd dimension and is therefore all but unattainable).
Although some may find the notion of dimension jumping erroneously dangerous and needlessly complicated, the true believers know what great benefits will be had by such an endeavor. These include, but are certainly not limited to:
· Building galaxy-conquering armies comprised of higher dimension, hyper-intelligent beings.
· Learning the true ins and outs of the Parallax Displacement Formula
· Finding all those lost socks
And who is to say we won’t find the elusive Gigaflux Capacitor in some unknown corner of the darkest dimension? Of course, to find the darkest dimension one would need a flashlight capable of penetrating the Churning Nothingness. If such a device existed it would surely be comprised of the space-time continuum (which has been know to take physical form when confronted by a mob of angry, yet hospitable, chortling Dutchmen), and a large vat of the Colonel’s finest pudding. Yellow pudding to be more precise.
Once these key ingredients are located in the vast expanse that is the outer rim territorial open market dwelling, there is still the problem of powering the device that will penetrate the Churning Nothingness. Of all the alloys, batteries, fluids, and other various appliance-powering devices, there are exactly none that can power the flashlight used to penetrate the Churning Nothingness. This is most unfortunate. However, the very essence of the Churning Nothingness is such that it may very well just let any bipedal human pass without so much as a grunt, fluff, or otherwise sign of intelligent life. Not that the CN is un-intelligent mind you, it’s quite the opposite. But we humanoid life forms are, by comparison, nothing more than a spec of dust on the CN’s windowsill. And as dust is ignored so shall we be eating ice cream while searching for the Gigaflux Capacitor.
Why do we even need a Gigaflux Capacitor you may ask? For shame! I would have hoped that a reader so astute as to have made it this far in such a landmark journal of science would by now assume that an answer, however vague it may be, would be forthcoming. Ah, but this is merely chapter four so I will pardon you this once and proceed to answer to the best of my knowledge (which is vast).
It has occasionally been considered to be as much as 7% true that the Gigaflux Capacitor once resided on an island somewhere in the tropical Atlantic. As you may have guessed by now, mysterious things tend to happen in the vicinity of one Ventosus Island. We are still researching this phenomenon and will have conclusive enough evidence to commence the research needed to create a more exacting picture of what may or may not be happening on said island. Rest assured that once this research has commenced we will be able to, without a doubt, locate the Gigaflux Capacitor.
What the device does, in laymen’s terms, is create a parallel vacuum transistor in the fluctuation chamber of High-Con Seven. This will in turn remedy the sun obsolete as the resulting explosion of interwoven atoms and combined neurons will rend the very fabric that holds the universe together. Though this has never happened before it is widely speculated and narrowly assumed that such an event would cause a rift between the third and fourth dimension. Should one survive the universe rending it would then be theoretically possible to proceed with much haste into the fourth dimension. And how would one survive a Gigaflux Capacitor Discharge? By warping temporarily into the future, which we know can, and indeed has, happened. The QSP labs, located exactly three thousand kilometers east of Ventosus Island, are currently constructing a Localized Gigaflux Capacitor Discharge Coagulator (or POPPER for short). What this simply astounding piece of modern science and ingenuity will attempt to accomplish is to create on-demand dimensional rifts whilst minimizing the danger to the entire universe. In essence, a wide open door to the fourth dimension conveniently stored in one’s pocket.
In later chapters, after our (or someone’s) first successful voyage into the uncharted and untamed fourth dimension, we will report on what this new frontier holds.
One popular theory that has been setting the Lesser Scientific Community (this includes all of the –ologies such as biology, sociology, cosmetology, and chemistryology) ablaze with wonder involves a banana peel, three ice cubes, Beethoven’s ninth symphony in E minor, and a pair of comfortable yet practical steel boots. What the LSC (Lesser Scientific Community) does not yet realize is when all of the afore mentioned elements are combined in one pickle jar (which must happen for the theory to be relative) they will react quite negatively with each other and cease to exist. The only way to remedy such a dire situation is with the HSC’s (Higher Scientific Community, whose greatest discovery has been the non-existence of pancakes) very own Quantum Trilinear HAZMAT Constructor.
For the sake of humanity I can only describe it as thus: a circular square with infinite radius and negative depth. When contacted by the LSC about the possible purchase and deployment of a Quantum Trilinear HAZMAT Constructor, the HSC deemed the machine to be a hazard to the public at large and denied the request. “Preposterous,” some exclaimed, “Blasphemous,” said others. Outside the non-existent offices of the HSC was a frail man picketing with a billboard-sized sign which read ‘What about the Pancakes’. The public liaison for the HSC stood (rather defiantly some have said) in front of the hugely massive office building on Ventosus Island, stabbed a finger into the air and said simply “its science.” He then exploded into the future where, even now, he is enjoying a futuristic piece of steak.
It has been theorized, with proper margin for speculation and empirical conjecture (the basis of all research), that the denizens of each successive dimension get more ill tempered as the dimensions rise in number. Take, for a primitive example, time, which has largely been thought of as the fourth dimension. Anyone with a knowledge of dimensions will tell you that time is actually an off-shoot of the third dimension, as documented in section 21.84, paragraph 3, line 5 of the Dimension Jumpers Handbook (which, ironically, only exists in the 32nd dimension and is therefore all but unattainable).
Although some may find the notion of dimension jumping erroneously dangerous and needlessly complicated, the true believers know what great benefits will be had by such an endeavor. These include, but are certainly not limited to:
· Building galaxy-conquering armies comprised of higher dimension, hyper-intelligent beings.
· Learning the true ins and outs of the Parallax Displacement Formula
· Finding all those lost socks
And who is to say we won’t find the elusive Gigaflux Capacitor in some unknown corner of the darkest dimension? Of course, to find the darkest dimension one would need a flashlight capable of penetrating the Churning Nothingness. If such a device existed it would surely be comprised of the space-time continuum (which has been know to take physical form when confronted by a mob of angry, yet hospitable, chortling Dutchmen), and a large vat of the Colonel’s finest pudding. Yellow pudding to be more precise.
Once these key ingredients are located in the vast expanse that is the outer rim territorial open market dwelling, there is still the problem of powering the device that will penetrate the Churning Nothingness. Of all the alloys, batteries, fluids, and other various appliance-powering devices, there are exactly none that can power the flashlight used to penetrate the Churning Nothingness. This is most unfortunate. However, the very essence of the Churning Nothingness is such that it may very well just let any bipedal human pass without so much as a grunt, fluff, or otherwise sign of intelligent life. Not that the CN is un-intelligent mind you, it’s quite the opposite. But we humanoid life forms are, by comparison, nothing more than a spec of dust on the CN’s windowsill. And as dust is ignored so shall we be eating ice cream while searching for the Gigaflux Capacitor.
Why do we even need a Gigaflux Capacitor you may ask? For shame! I would have hoped that a reader so astute as to have made it this far in such a landmark journal of science would by now assume that an answer, however vague it may be, would be forthcoming. Ah, but this is merely chapter four so I will pardon you this once and proceed to answer to the best of my knowledge (which is vast).
It has occasionally been considered to be as much as 7% true that the Gigaflux Capacitor once resided on an island somewhere in the tropical Atlantic. As you may have guessed by now, mysterious things tend to happen in the vicinity of one Ventosus Island. We are still researching this phenomenon and will have conclusive enough evidence to commence the research needed to create a more exacting picture of what may or may not be happening on said island. Rest assured that once this research has commenced we will be able to, without a doubt, locate the Gigaflux Capacitor.
What the device does, in laymen’s terms, is create a parallel vacuum transistor in the fluctuation chamber of High-Con Seven. This will in turn remedy the sun obsolete as the resulting explosion of interwoven atoms and combined neurons will rend the very fabric that holds the universe together. Though this has never happened before it is widely speculated and narrowly assumed that such an event would cause a rift between the third and fourth dimension. Should one survive the universe rending it would then be theoretically possible to proceed with much haste into the fourth dimension. And how would one survive a Gigaflux Capacitor Discharge? By warping temporarily into the future, which we know can, and indeed has, happened. The QSP labs, located exactly three thousand kilometers east of Ventosus Island, are currently constructing a Localized Gigaflux Capacitor Discharge Coagulator (or POPPER for short). What this simply astounding piece of modern science and ingenuity will attempt to accomplish is to create on-demand dimensional rifts whilst minimizing the danger to the entire universe. In essence, a wide open door to the fourth dimension conveniently stored in one’s pocket.
In later chapters, after our (or someone’s) first successful voyage into the uncharted and untamed fourth dimension, we will report on what this new frontier holds.
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