Laws, Science Pt. 2: Attack of the Shrimp-People, or- A Lesson in Infinity

You might remember the end of Part 1, where I said there is a universe where all of us are shrimp-people. This is true. Along our shrimp-people, there are the cat-people, dog-people, or perhaps the illustrious mosquito-people. And, thanks to infinity, there is an universe where they all exist at once. And one where they are all two-dimensional. And one where they are at war, one where world peace is a thing, ect.

Think of that ect. when you are thinking of infinity. The concept of infinity is basically forever. Think of forever for a moment. If you’re like, “Ya. Already knew that. Not a big deal,” then you clearly don’t get infinity. Try again.

Feeling small yet, minuscule ape-person? Or highly advanced, multidimensional shrimp-person?

Okay, perhaps you are now thinking something along the lines of, ‘Okay, in another dimension, I’m a shrimp-person. So what?’

Well, I say to you, because I am a proficient mind reader, “So, can you imagine being a shrimp-person? No? Then be quiet and go work on your imagination a bit, Little Shrimplet.”

That’s what I’m calling you now. Shrimplet.

End of Part Two.

Stay Tuned for Pt. 3!

Lair of the Opera: A Writing Activity Fulfilled

The soft glow of candles, so unlike the harsh glare of daylight some would say they belonged more to the darkness then not, illuminated a cavern, vast and dark. The candlelight was reflected both in the ripples of the lake and the pipes of the pipe-organ in the approximate center of the cave.

There was a moment where so something moved, so fast it was no more then a second. Then, slowly, a figure crept towards the pipe-organ. He stayed only in the crevices untouched by even the soft light of the candles, in the shadows as if he could not let anyone see him, even himself. He went unnoticed by the gentle glow of candlelight, but being only a man of the night and not a creature of one, his sight was limited in the darkness and mistakes were bound to happen.

He tripped on a stray rock, crying out either from either fear or shock, and fell to the ground ungracefully. The mask that covered the majority of his face fell too, and in the absence of the mask he drew his cloak up to his deformed face. Whether he had been born this way or had been in an accident only he could tell, and he rarely spoke. When he did, his past wasn’t his preferred topic of conversation and it would be wise to accommodate him to the best of your ability, lest he be angered.

This phantom of a man rose, placing the mask carefully over his face, (He found it better to be a phantom than a monster, and in all honesty in the general public agreed heartily)his gruesome face unnoticed by none but the legion of moths whose shadows danced upon the cave’s walls. He then continued his slow walk towards the pipe-organ. It was a monstrous thing, the pipe-organ, towering almost to the ceiling of the cavern. But it was beautiful, the golden pipes shining dimly and the white keys glowing softly. The Phantom reached it, and sat down on a lovely velvet playing stool. His fingers hovered over the keys.

He was the least beautiful thing in the room. A dark shadow in a cavernous space filled with all sorts of magnificent treasures, golden, and glowing, and wondrous, and-

The Phantom stood abruptly, a move which threw the playing stool to the ground, scratching the wood and dirtying the pillow. With an angry cry, he swept his hand across the keyboard. The noise produced was a crash of notes, dissonant and clashing. He smashed his fist on the keys, and one of them cracked slightly, the expensive instrument rendered worthless.

The Phantom was the most beautiful thing in the room now, it was sure.

He fell to his knees, and he wept.

Why J.R.R Tolkien Is a Genius: The Simarillion, Middle Earth, and Elvish

Once upon a time, there was a brilliant, wonderful book written by an intelligent, creative man. No, there were several, brilliant, wonderful books written by this man. Three of these were the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and its prequel The Hobbit, two were The Book of Lost Tales, and one book to rule them all, one book to find them, one book to take the tales and in the darkness bind them.

This book was named the Simarillion. It wasn’t even finished when he died, but his son (Christopher Tokien) finished it for him. That’s how awesome Tolkien was. He continued to publish another book after his demise. I suppose genius can’t be confined by mortal laws.

Perhaps, Shrimplet, you are thinking, ‘Come on, he wasn’t THAT awesome!’

“Have you ever invented a consistent mythology, a consistent language, a consistent culture, a consistent map and world, and characters that are consistently awesome? No? Of course not. Because only J.R.R Tolkien (and, sometimes, Christopher Tolkien) has ever succeeded in doing so. So be quiet and listen to me praise a genius.” I say, again showing my proficiency at mind reading.

You shut your cakehole and decide to go read The Hobbit.

How To Survive School and Keep the Shattered Remains of Your Sanity Pt. 1


1. Plan:
This is a Zombie Apocalypse. Plan. Organize. Survival of the Fittest in this brutal world, and you need grades to survive.

  • If it helps, you can set reminders. It usually doesn’t, though.
  • You can write assignments on your arm, hand, or somewhere you always go.
  • Keep all your homework in one folder. If you keep it in the binder for that subject, you’ll have too much to carry.
  • DO NOT ask your parents to remind you. It might help at first, but as you get more experienced it’ll just get annoying.

2. Motivation
Goodness knows you need it.

  • Play any music that was in a Rocky montage. I prefer ‘Eye of the Tiger.’
  • Tell yourself the truth—if you get good grades, you can brag about how smart you are.
  • Act overly dramatic, i.e. “Oh, woe is me! Homework, my greatest foe..!” Extra points if you do it in rhyme and/or Shakespearian.
  • Your parents won’t make you do anything if you say, “I’m doing homework!”
  • Your teachers and parents will be convinced you are a super genius-valedictorian-hard-worker.
  • Learn the national anthem, either of your country or a country you don’t know. Sing it under your breath(or loudly, I guess) while you are struggling through your homework and imagine you are doing a great service for the country the anthem belongs to.

    3. Actual Knowledge
    Doing your homework doesn’t mean anything if you don’t know how.

    • Listen to the teacher. I know, I know, but if you know the stuff, you’ll graduate sooner
    •  Do the homework in the last minutes of class. It’ll still be fresh in your mind, so it’ll be easy.
    • Take notes. You aren’t a computer, you can’t remember everything. Write everything down like a mindless drone. EVERYTHING.
    • Stop talking to your friends in class. You’ll have to whisper, and you’ll get caught. Plus, you aren’t a secret agent, you’re a survivor!
    • Think about the subjects. History, for example. The Revolutionary war wasn’t a boring battle. It was a blood-stained, fight against the overtaxing British, ruler of the colonies and greatest empire since Rome, and the Americans, the poor colonists, fighting for their freedom. Or, I suppose, if you’re British, how an ungrateful colony spontaneously declared independence because of raised taxes. Either way, it sounds like it could be made into a movie. In fact, the first one already was. It’s called Star Wars. History, doing Star Wars since the 1800’s.

Laws, Science Pt. 1

Oh, science. Sometimes you confuse me.

That is an example of something I will never, ever, say. Science makes a world of sense. Unlike some laws humans have created, the laws of gravity

a) Physically cannot be broken, no matter how hard you try or how rebellious you feel, and

b) Aren’t completely stupid and meaningless. Because if you don’t follow the laws of science – the basic laws anyway – you literally cannot be real. I know sometimes people use literally to exaggerate, (i.e. “I would literally die!) but I mean literally, as in you physically cannot exist in the Universe!

Sometimes I don’t want gravity to be a thing, but actually, no, I don’t, because if gravity didn’t exist we would not, would never, exist.

That would be pretty bad.

And then there’s spacetime..wait a second! Why is there a squiggly red line under spacetime? You don’t get to squiggly red line Stephen Hawking!

Never mind, they had the squiggle under lightsaber too. They’re just not very smart.

Anyway, spacetime. Stephen Hawking describes other theories as a railroad, a linear construct, but he goes on to say time is more like multiple tracks that can circle back to any station at any time. He also says that time and space are tangled together, and you can’t effect one without effecting the other as well. The Doctor, (from the BBC series Doctor Who) describes it as ‘more of a ball of wibbly-wobbly….timey-wimey…stuff.’ which is essentially the same concept put more whimsically.

Therefore, if you were to, theoretically, create a time machine, it would also have to be space machine, relatively, therefore figuring in the fourth and fifth dimensions, space and time. This purely hypothetical machine ( Time And Relative Dimensions In Space ) would warp space and time around it.

As for interdimensional travel, there would be a possibility of aforementioned travel assuming you mean dimensions in the sense of the multiverse theory, which proposes multiple Universes, (a delightful oxymoronic phrase) and not the dimensions in the sense of the second and third dimensions, which are used most often in Mathematical equations and made a delightful Doctor Who episode with two-dimensional beings and the T.A.R.D.I.S shrinking(though not on the inside!). If you’re talking about the multiverse theory, which also has been used in a Doctor Who episode, this implies there are doors, gateways, or some other form of travel. The machine mentioned must either be able to locate and withstand the pressure and energy of such a door, or must be able to create a door. Alternately, the ‘fabric’ between dimensions could be portrayed as a sheet of paper rather then a wall, and in that case you must find a rip, or you must be able to procure the force necessary to create a hole yourself.

How are the multiple dimensions located relative to each other? Are they too in a ball, so you can go from Dimension A to Dimension B to Dimension X, then back to A again? Or are they straight, so they can only go A to B to D, etc.

The multiverse theory proposes the Universes are the same as our own except for one or more crucial differences, like Albert Einstein became the president of Israel, or Isaac Newton decided he would stay inside and read.

Therefore, we can assume most of these universes are governed by, basically, the same laws as our own, because these laws are required to sustain life. If spacetime is a constant across the multiverse, it is to be reasonably assumed that, naturally, the multiverse takes the same shape as spacetime, because a universe includes space, time, and matter. This means, logically, you can go from A to B to W to X, and you won’t have to go through twenty-four dimensions to get back to A again. Instead the multiverse acts as a spherical grid, where the intersections are the dimensions. You can go from one side of the sphere to another with enough force, as well as the intersection next to you.

But what of time? If you traveled from your Earth in A, then to B, W, and X, when you returned to A, how much time would have passed if it took a year? In this scenario spacetime is a constant through the universe. Think of a infinite clothesline. Each piece of your laundry is an individual universe. The clothesline is spacetime. The clothes themselves aren’t touching outright, but all of them are touching the clothesline. If you were strong enough, you could go to one to another, with different colors and shapes and sizes, but it will always be the same clothesline.

But if you took an accurate clock on your Alphabet Adventure, it doesn’t mean it would match up with an equally accurate clock when you returned to Earth in Dimension A. This is part of Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, called personal time. This states that there is no universal clock as previously believed, but instead time was warped depending on the speed of the object moving. This means your time machine, unbelievably powerful, would also have to move very fast. You would still be around the same age, and your best friend will have had children already!

Also on the subject of the multiverse theory is timelines. The popular theory is that every decision creates an alternate universe where a different choice was made, it was made in a different way, something (whether as uneventful as tripping or something as drastic as a fistfight) prevented you from making the choice, or the universe catastrophically ended. These, and an infinite amount of other scenarios, have happened in infinite dimensions in an infinite amount of ways. For example, in another universe, you never read this. In another, I never wrote it. And in yet another, we’re are all shrimp-people. Yes, shrimp-people. It’s possible, especially with infinity.

End of Part 1


The field, aflame with blazing uniforms, but the orange: flaming, it was supposed to be, but it was dusty, hopeless, broken, defeated— the things an army shouldn’t show.
“Is this how the life of a great hero, a great soldier ends?’ mocked the king, “Faceless, nameless, alone in the dirt?’
“That,” the general replied, “Is how we end, all of us, wether king, peasant, soldier, thief, hero, villain— alone and faceless, a memory to those who knew them, and only those, to the rest? Nothing.”
“But I?” gasped the monarch, “I, the king?”
“A memory still,” the general pressed, “dead for a king is dead to a peasant also.”
Oh, a king? A king, though in life a ruler, a king is equal to the lowliest of thieves in death. A theif, who became a soldier, who died by another man, to rise, then fall, only to be mocked by a king, a king no more then his equal in death.
For in death, all are faceless.
All are peasants.
In death, all are king.

So…I think I might go into poetry, or writing, or…word-ing? Did you guys like it?

Man, Woman, and Humanity in General

Think about the people you hang out with. Your friends. Are they good people? Would you make friends with them if you met on a message board one day and started talking?

Now think about 99% percent of YouTube comments. Would you make friends with someone whose entire existence should probably be censored?

Why, you think, are there so many horrible people? I hang out with nice people, and a lot of the people I know are decent, at least most of the time. Well, I’ll tell you. It’s the Internet. The reason a lot of people are polite is because of the social consequences of not being polite. You insult someone, you either get shunned by their circle of friends or you walk away with a broken nose. But on the Internet, when you insult someone, there are usually no immediate consequences. Therefore, we just say whatever we want. This usually has some negative repercussions, but none above someone saying something mean back.

It’s just in human nature to cause misery to others. We have to work to be nice, but it takes no effort to screw someone over. When we’re babies, we spend the first couple of months depriving anyone in our house of any sleep, until we learn that screaming really bugs people and we make an effort to be nice.

We have to teach our children it isn’t acceptable to harm each other, physically or mentally, or else all hell breaks lose.

Human beings are animals at heart, and we have to really work not to act like it.

Except on the Internet. Have fun!

Yet Another Poem

Repeat, they say, repeat,

and you do, oh yes, you do.

A hero, they say, a hero,

and you cheer, oh yes, you do.

A menace, they say, a menace,

and you yell, oh yes, you do.

My family, you say, my family,

and nobody cares but you.

Another Poem

The leaves fall, fall from empty trees,

family trees, happy trees,

the consequences of war,

but, alas, do you

do you shed a tear for a falling leaf?

No, no, no tears for a leaf,

only the trees weep for the leaf, the leaves, the trees,

weep for them all, but no,

you do not remember the leaf,

you do not cry for a leaf.

A Poem


the color of blank,

or the concept; the concept of blank,

of nothing?

not nothing, but blank?

blank, the color,

not a color,

a feeling, nothing

is blank;

the color of war

of death

of fear