Follow The Clues

In the days that followed my release from the VA hospital I needed to find cheap lodging. A friend of mine introduced to me to a man who would soon after become my roommate at 2211C Cake Street. The man took one look at me and said, “I see that you were in the Virgina National Guard, recently discharged.”

“How on earth did you know that?”

“People tend to see but do not observe. Your T-shirt, half hidden beneath your winter coat is clearly one that reads, ‘I survived the battle for the White House’ that was all the rage last year after the National Guard removed the meglomaniac barracaded himself in the Oval Office.”

So it was later that several of us sat around a table while my new companion smoked his abominable cheap weed in a briar pipe discussing his solution to the latest murder, “It was Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen with the Knife,”

“Sherluck Jones,” I cried out, “How do you do it? We barely started playing!”

“Elementary, my dear Wittsend, elementary.”

Schrodinger’s Cat

In alternative reality, just as real as ours, Carly Fiorina, after having been insulted by Trump, during the GOP primary debates, walked over, got in his face, and told him he must apologize, right then, right now, and agree he will never do it again. When he insulted her again, to her face, which he certainly was bound to do, unable to help himself, she bitch slapped across his. The world saw him for the cad he is and the GOP ‘asked’ him to end his primary campaign.

Fiorina won the GOP nomination… when the world saw a kick ass woman being a determined, old-fashioned, self-respecting, “lady”, standing up to a rude, oafish bully.

Dark Energy Isn’t

Professor Imous Crank was giving a talk on his latest unpublished paper.  It was of course fully available on his Universe City website but no reputable journal would publish it.  Even the Journal of Irreproducable Results wouldn’t.  But that didn’t stop him from giving his talk.  The lecture hall was nearly empty and those that were there were non-human visitors in with amazing good bioengineered avatars.  The aliens were amazed that Prof. Crank hadn’t actually been able to convince some of his colleagues.  They needn’t have been.  The man had lived up to his name in his dotage.  He had too many ideas that had been proven to be so far-fetched that even his own former students had given up on him.

“So, from this equation we can see that space-time will expand due to the prior expansion of the non-gravitationally bound non-local super-groups exhibiting linear frame dragging from the original vector bosons, gluons, created in the first quintillionth of a second of the Big Bang.  One can think of it as simply following Newton’s second law, this created the inflation of the early universe but that doesn’t explain the acceleration of the expansion we have labeled “Dark Energy” for want of a better or more accurate name.  That comes about due to frame dragging from the later luminous vector bosons.  In other words, as this equation shows, the expansion of the universe is being accelerated by photons and gravitons in the form of intergalactic light and gravitational waves and the universe simply has to make more room so that they can go on forever on their massless journey in the vain hope of reaching the end of the universe… and edge that like Tantalus’s grapes, forever receed.”

It was so simple… yet… physicists would never accept it… knowing it was just another Crank idea.


Lost In Space

Candice eetimes“We lost Zuma sir.”

“What?  Did the launch fail?”

“Ummm… no sir.  The launch worked perfectly.”

“Did it fail to separate from the booster?”

“No sir, separation was perfect.”

“Then it failed to deploy?”

“Well… sir, we can’t say for certain.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Well, it’s a stealth bird sir, it’s painted perfectly black so telescopic tracking can’t see it… it has a very small radar cross-section to begin with, and the new radar absorbing coatings handle the rest.  We can’t track it.”

“Then tell it to report back where it is.  Send it a command to transmit it’s position and status!”

“Ummm… sir… we can’t.”

“What the hell are you trying to tell me?”

“Well… you see… it’s was such a secret project, everything hush-hush and need to know… well sir… it seems that we forgot the password.”

Polly & Jake’s

Candice eetimesBack when I was in grad school at Stanford, in the early 1980’s my friends and I would remark on the odd existence of Polly & Jake’s, a storefront on the south-east corner of Page Mill Road and El Camino Real.  The painted sign on the parapet, just below the name of the shop, was the inscription, “Est. 1929”.  The windows were dusty, never cleaned.  Peering inside one could see that it was filled with cheap knick-nacks, bric-a-brak, and green depression glass, also gathering dust.  The place looked like it hadn’t been open since the 1930’s.  No matter what time of day or evening, when ever we tried visit, it was never open.  It was one of those odd mysteries that invite ever stranger explanations.  The most common was that it was owned by a rich older grand dame who held onto it with the pretension of being a shop owner and thus had somewhere important to go and do.  But in truth, we had no idea what was the real story.

My friends and I all vowed that if we saw the shop open, we would visit, no matter what errand we were busy with… just to be able to see inside.  But that was decades ago and I’ve moved and mostly lost touch with my college friends.

I drove by there a few years ago.  Polly & Jake’s was gone, replaced by an AT&T cellphone store.   After all, how could such a valuable location remain closed and apparently unused for so many decades?  It was bound to be converted to some other use at some point.  But somehow I always thought that it would still be there, timeless, frozen in the Great Depression.

I’m telling you this because I got an email from a stranger around that time which began,  “I’m reaching out to you to ask if you were friend’s with a woman named Trini at Stanford?”  Well, of course I had, but I hadn’t seen her since she up and dissappeared in the ’80s.  None of us knew what had happened to her.  So, of course I messaged back that I had known a Trini.  That’s when things got weird.

Via snailmail a few days later I get a package.  In it was a lovely cut crystal vase and a note from Trini “From Polly & Jakes”, but it was dated from 1935!  What was the joke?

I emailed the stranger who had sent it to me… and this is the reply, “I know this will sound strange, but Trinidad was my grandmother.  I found this in her effects with an instruction in her will that stipulated that I send this package to you.  Polly & Jake’s was her shop.  She insisted that it had to remain untouched until she died.  She was always very mysterious about it, always joking that it was her time portal.  I always thought that was an allegorical reference to the old junk in the shop.  But said in her will you would understand.”

News Byte On Bitcoin

***In financial news today, Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies crashed today.  All the exchanges have halted trading of futures as well, as news spread that a new very high qubit supercomputer set up to mine Bitcoins was said to have been finding hundreds of the previously elusive hard to find prime numbers needed for cryptocurrencies per millisecond.  Countries that had switched to cryptocurrencies are scrambling to set up conventional currencies, many switching back to the U.S. Dollar as its reserve currency.

***In related news, the powergrid of Venezuela has experienced several fluctuations due to the shutdown of energy intensive conventional computers nearly simultaneously.  These computer farms had previously been mining for prime numbers for cryptocurrencies.

***President Harris said that the U.S. Dollar and economy is still stable and that the Federal Reserve’s move to enable it own eDollar system is in no way hurt by this new technology and is in fact aided by it since the new quantum computers will be able to track and keep secure all electronic transactions using U.S. Dollars.

The (Genetic) Lottery

“Please.  If you would just run this story…” pleaded the Cub Reporter.

“No way!  We would both lose our jobs!  The Owners of the network won’t allow it.  Besides, don’t you understand, the listeners won’t believe it.  They can’t believe it.  If they did, they would have to get off their couches and do something about it,” retorted the Wise Senior Editor.

“But they need to know!” demanded the Cub Reporter.

“What?  You think they need to know that the Lottery is rigged?  That they don’t have a chance to become rich?  Look kid, this is the way things are and have been for generations.  It’s how the system works.  Of course the winners of the Lottery come from families that won the lottery already.  That’s how they maintain the illusion that everyone has a shot at the ‘American Dream’, poor saps.  They sure as hell can’t win through hard work!  Kid, life isn’t fair.  To win you have to first win the genetic lottery, chosing your parents well.”

“You mean that you already knew?”  cried the Cub Reporter in dismay.

“Of course kid.  Why do you think I have this job?”


An Experiment Gone Wrong…

Candice eetimes“Are you sure this will prove your theory of Quantum Temporal Improbability, Doctor Essex?  Are you sure it’s safe?  I mean, if you are correct, this will change the past, which will mean that it will change our present?”

“Of course it will work.  And yes, it’s safe.  The experiment will only slightly effect the probability of small things.  It won’t effect big things in the slightest.  Changes to history will always converge back to the higher probability events in time; so there is no danger.”

“How far back are you setting the change to be anyways?”

“Did you not read my whitepaper on that subject?  It has to be when the Earth is closest to the same position as it is now relative to the other major masses in our solar system and the center of the galaxy.  Thus, it has to be in increments of whole years so that the energy required to make change will be minimal.  Of course, that also means that one year in the past is the easiest to effect.”

“OK, what should be we look for?”

“Oh, I’m sure it will be quite subtle: a typo in some website that wasn’t there before… something like that.  So, I have setup a search of the web looking for changes compared to our locally stored web mirror.”

“OK… If that’s all it will be, you have permission to go ahead.”

“Thank you,” Dr. Essex said as he pressed the button on his computer that sent the signal to the CERN Large Hadron Collider to preform his side experiment.  “OK, that was it.  The search should find something….”

“What’s wrong Doctor?”

“This can’t be!  That’s not a small change !  My GOD.  Clinton’s no longer the president!”

“You can’t mean !!!  NO!  That’s not possible!…   NOT Trump !!!”