There are forces that shape our destiny that are beyond our ken as we live our lives in the midst of events. Yet to students of History the forces are quite clear.

West and east Smolensk... so different... so tragically very different. There was a time when they were one. But coming out of the steppes to the west was a great Bigol khan, Senglis. He was opposed at the end of this era and at this locality by the great Mongol khan Fruklis. These mortal enemies were once allies. They had banded together to destroy the decadent Trigols of the northern marshes. These subpar horsemen had never managed to lose the training wheel attached to the side of the horse. So were easily destroyed by the allies. Their bow shots would go awry when the training wheel hit some pebble as they careened over the steppes.

Now it was ally versus ally. Tribesman versus tribesman. They were both strong. They were both clever. They were both crafty.

Both tried to persuade the walled city to let them in. Whoever was let in could resupply and rest in the city before rushing out at whatever time pleased them to destroy an ill supplied enemy. Neither wanted to storm the walls because the battle would weaken their army before confronting their mortal foe.

The mongol khan threatened the mayor of the city with torture, r8pe and death, using his resume as evidence of his sincerity.

The bigol khan used the carrot instead of the stick. He promised to teach the merchant class the eastern secret of facet cutting should they let them in. His resume did not testify to his sincerity but the mayor had a carrot on one side and an iron f1st on the other. So he let Hope guide his decision.

As a result it was the Bigol Horde that entered the city instead of the mongols. Naturally they divided the city into west and east. Only to the east did they give the secret from the east. The bigols loved dichotomies. To the west they gave the secret of thread straightening, also learned in the course of their eastern conquests.

Wow an unpromised secret you may say, naïve reader. But the bigol khan was devious. He gave out of a sense of mischief. Knowing the conflicting natures of the craft. Knowing it would start a division in the people they ruled that could be exploited.

The bigols recuped, honed weapons and rode out of the city to meet their destiny. The mongols paid the price for the mayor's rejection of their threats. Both clans played their role on Life's stage and have now vanished back from whence they came.

But Smolensk was forever changed. Accident? Fate? Study History my ch1ldren, study it well. You may get a clue, see a thread, that when pulled saves you from some fast approaching disaster.



a master of the narrative Duds!
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a master of the narrative Duds!



Thanks... If a man must suffer it is good that what he suffers for is clear. If a man dies it is best that his death is for something and that his survivors understand the need of it. Life is not pretty. Duty is not easy. We steer our fates with fragile, decaying rudders so we must look far ahead if we wish to hit our mark.

We should keep our cans of coke in the trunk of our cars, instead of in our dwellings with us, warm though they may be, so that each coke means something. There is the rising up. There is the finding of the keys. There is the putting on of the underwear. There is the opening of the car door because the jokers at the shop managed to break your trunk when they were supposed to be making a new key for it. There is the flip of the coin of Fate as to whether the trunk will open this time. There is the grasping of the opportunity presented by the open trunk to seize the coke. There is the assessing of how long the current stash of coke will last.

And the gods help you if you are one of the poor devils who knows only pepsi.
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And Roland to the dark tower came...

His death song fell dully on the heavy air as he ran forward to meet his destiny, guns blazing...

Turn after turn it rose before him. Smooth cold stone. Windows dressed with ghosts from his past.

A gelatin moat faced him. Formidable. New. Mocking him with its barring and its composition. A jiggling graveyard. Resting site of ChickenHeart. Capturer of Crows.



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The multiverse groaned...

Dark matter slid rather than hung. The Laws had been altered. The particles that popped out of vacuum clung together and gelatinized before decaying back to nothingness. The Reaction Chain from light to heavy, out of the life giving Star Furnace was broken. Gelatin was the final product. If life would thrive in this new order, it must base itself on some new chemistry.

The network of intelligence that monitors Creation was fully mobilized. It had precious little time to strike. Fast and ruthless. Precise. Or lose everything.
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The laws that regulate reality... who can modify them? Until now man had left that to the gods. Man's Science assumed them unchanging... axiomatically.

But Joe was a determined man. He knew how to think outside of the box. This reality was very hard on him. He objected to it. Rather than retreat to fantasy... rather than spend a lifetime explaining his issues with it to his fellow men... he set out to change it. He succeeded.

A big task seems impossible until it is broken down into components. Joe started by changing the most trivial of laws. Yep he started with a proof of concept. Change one law and you can change them all.

It is well known that the number of socks in a pile of laundry must decrease during the washing and drying process. Although nobody has ever discovered where the missing socks go, every person who has done this chore understands this basic rule of Nature.

So Joe worked hard to add a new law: The Conservation of Socks or more accurately The Local Sock Boundary Condition to the Laws of Laundry Items Behavior. He figured out how to rip apart the fabric of reality in his immediate vicinity and alter it. The universe then propagated the change throughout space and time in its continual mindless process of making all its different bits consistent. The multiverse then kicked in and did the same for all connected realities.

He thought nobody would even notice. Since all space and time now was governed by the new law. But he was wrong. His test was detected. The consequences almost immediately grasped. And while he worked to do the big change, forces gathered to unhorse his joust./images/_common/forums/emoticons/' }

Bobby Fischer finally sprung the trap. It was classic Fischer. He had set it up since the earliest stages of his development.

His hand moved forward across the board. His opponent could tell something catastrophic was about to happen. Even though there was no shake to the hand that moved the bishop. Even though there was no tell on the grim face that held it.

A pawn fell. A bishop sacrificed. A sweating opponent knows that this is a trap. Can't quite grasp yet how it is. Already is beginning to reckon the consequence of another loss in this series.

Duel of grand masters. Enshrined in the halls of history.

Yet something odd starts to happen. The poor man's rook gelatinizes and puddles. There is a gasp from the crowd. Fischer scowls. Now all pieces gelatinize and splatter all over the board. The men get up and stare horrified. Totally at a loss for what to do.

And then everything goes sickly Tommyknocker green. In one instant all is quiet in that room. Except the whirring of cameras recording autonomously the demise of the audience. Then static as the cameras too gelatinize and melt./images/_common/forums/emoticons/' }

Athos did not react as his beer and mug gelatinized and splattered across the table. He did not let it affect his brood at all.

He expected such things to occur in this foul reality. And so looked about with cynical amusement as the table, various patrons, and part of the roof met the same fate.

He reasoned, correctly of course, that it was his fate as well. This was not an enemy to skewer with a sword. No enemy to threaten or beg. There was nothing to do but wait for his turn. He felt a great relief in fact. Duty fell off of him. He instantly felt and seemed much younger. When the green light came it cut off his laughing.

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Richelieu did not fare so well.

This new thing, this aberration, with form and spirit of the cardinal yet not quite the same. He too had pre-warning. But he was angered. He hadn't yet had a chance to write his tale. Author his evil. Complete or even formulate fully his plans.

The gelatinization freed many of his prisoners in mid torture from their material sufferings. The waste of it. The lack of coordination with his evil. Potential unrealized.

Freed from any further need for deception, he relaxed and let his true nature come forth. When the green light came it was to the sound of others screaming for a far different reason than departing in a puddle of jello.
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The universe weeps. The multiverse convulses. Something is being born and it is not a keeper.

One galaxy, a pretty ellipsoid, gelatinizes faster than the speed of light. It seems to start on one pole but soon spreads from multiple sources. Gravity says "What the fuck? Where did all the mass go?" The new beast says "Fuck mass"

So tidal rips, waves through space, shocks abound. What doesn't gelatinize immediately is ripped apart.

Such epic destruction wearies even this hardened heart. Though we remain to write about it, it is no pseudo reality. Somewhere and some time something was destroyed. Joe can only be said to have succeeded. No villain has ever destroyed so much.

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Don't cry for me Gelanto Tina
The truth is that I will probably have to eat you.
Though you are translucent and fishy
Not like good gr8pe jelly
But you are all that there is
Since no food not even cheese wiz
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Doctor: Very good... We have worked through the problem of your sister-in-law's vie for attention from your husband.

Mz Crenshaw: Yes doctor... *sob*

*Doctor pulls tissue after tissue out of box as the lady picks them up and sobs into them *

Doctor: Now these crying spells give good release but they are not constructive. We need to get to the root of the problem.

Mz Schwarz: Yes doctor. I am ready to work on this with you.

Doctor: Many times people are dealing with unresolved issues from their ch1ldhood. Mz Schwarz... did something bad happen to you as a ch1ld?

Mz Schwarz: Well there was one thing. But no... it is too silly.

Doctor: (taking interest, removing his glasses) No go on. Go on. Nothing is too silly.

Mz Schwaz: You know I think it was the most traumatic thing that ever happened to me. I was 8 years old and this bully stole my pail from me. He took it. Then he kicked it and put a big dent it in. *breaks out sobbing again*

Doctor: Let me get this straight... You are telling me that the most traumatic thing ever in your life was losing your pail?

Mz Schwarz: He stole it from. And he was f@t. Really f@t.

Doctor: Well we must try to look at it from his perspective too. Often times... overweight... ch1ldren act out because of difficulties in their own lives. Why even myself... I too was a .... chubby k1d.

Mz Scwarz: He was mean! Big f@t mean little chubbo.

Doctor: Wait a minute... Was this pail... blue?

Mz Scwarz: Yes! It was blue with a red shovel. It had a picture of Minnie Mouse on it.

Doctor: What... what is your maiden name?

Mz Crenshaw: Crenshaw!

Doctor: ha ha ha! Crybaby Crenshaw! I see you are able to hide your lisp now.

Mz Crenshaw: *gasping and lisping out* F@tso Henderson!

Doctor Henderson: I never stole your pail. I remember it quite distinctly. I bought it from you for six pieces of saltwater taffy.

Mz Crenshaw: Only f@tso Henderson would have salt water taffy! But I remember how it really went. You waddled up to me, your belly hanging over your daddies swimming pants, and said: "Gimme that pail or else" Then you took it and kicked it. Put a big dent in it.

Doctor Henderson: *laughing nervously* heh heh heh Look at us Mz Schwarz. We are adults. We have forgotten that.

Mz Schwarz: *laughing nervously* ha ha yes. Silly. So very silly.

Doctor Henderson: Let's get back to your in-laws. Do you think your mother in law's behavior at dinner last Thursday could be the reason for...

Mz Crenshaw: I want it back. Right now.

Doctor Henderson: Are you mad? I haven't got it! That was years ago!

Mz Crenshaw: If you don't give me back my pail right now I am going to go out to that room full of 40 dollar an hour patients and tell them how you were thrown out of the 3rd grade for drawing pictures of the most interesting bits of teacher's anatomy on the bathroom walls.

Doctor Henderson with a look of defeat, slowly opens the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a blue pail. Mz Crenshaw grabs it but her momentary happiness fades and:

Mz Crenshaw: This is not my pail! Mine had a picture of Minnie and this is Donald!

So the doctor walks slowly to a closet. Opens the door just a crack and pulls out a blue pail. He hands it to her.

Now she is less quick to get excited and carefully examines the pail.

Mz Crenshaw: This is not my pail either!

So she starts toward the closet door. The doctor blocks her at first, but then, realizing he is done for, lets her go by. She opens the door wide... And an avalanche of pails cascades onto the floor. After casting an accusing look at the doctor she sifts through them until she finds her pail, her beloved missing pail, and skips out the door.

The doctor sits down, crushed by the all too telling revelations, not even bothering to close the closet door. She comes back. Her eyes flashing fire. Her eyes demanding... threatening...

And in the final act of defeat... the doctor reaches into the inner pocket of his expensive suit jacket... and pulls out the red shovel that she has returned for. With shovel and pail in hand, Mz Crenshaw again skips out of the office and into history.

Things were quiet as the doctor sagged in defeat... and then came a green light... a devouring all changing green light. The doctor welcomed it.

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My apathy is ended. My period of grieving at end.

The story of the formidable alien action may now be told. When first jello became a popular earth dessert... the dwellers at galactic center foresaw danger and started to allocate every year a portion of their vast budget to the destruction of the threat.

Their plan was cynical, practical. They monitored the threat at a distance and merely began to build a sun destroying weapon. Then as the threat progressed slowly they were able to improve upon the precision of the death ray to make it lethal only to Earth. As Joe gave a characteristic trace on their monitoring instruments by his destruction of Wanda they were just about to complete a city sized improved precision ray.

They had a terrible decision to make. Joe was a short way away from starting a chain reaction that would destroy all the universes of the multi-verse. They could destroy Earth now and be sure to stop this. Or they could gamble that they would merely need to destroy one city to stop Joe. This is where their horrible arrogance betrayed them. They made the gamble.

Ride, noticing their activity from his sanctuary fortress deep within the Weld, guessed at their intentions and made a desperate plan to exploit their work and focus their strike. He did not anticipate their blunder however. He did not have the ability nor the diplomatic tie to this powerful race to determine Joe's whereabouts or to persuade them to strike now. He even had his own attachment to Earth it must be said. His plan was to focus the blast when it came to a street sized region containing the quarry. The beam itself would carry the information about the location of the target. That would be the only time Ride knew. Despite all the intelligence networks on Earth working together. Despite the resources of Team Banzai. They couldn't detect Joe. Only the aliens could.

It must be said that it was no easy task to determine all he needed to know about the aliens plans and technology to focus the ray. Isn't it amazing that this gargantuan task was easier than finding Joe himself? That's how life is sometimes. We solve the problems we can. No matter how far they take us away from home.

But Joe was faster than the aliens anticipated. His ray snaked out and obliterated countless universes triggering the reaction that threatened this universe. The alien blast came and by the time it came Ride was able to focus it to the size of a single dwelling. Joe got a knock on his door, and when he opened it, KAAAAAABLOOOOOOOOMIEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! Where's the jello indeed.

But what about the chain reaction? How could it be stopped?

Well, leaving his ray focusing apparatus in the hands of Team Banzai, Ride traveled in his Enlightened Way between planes and cut the cord that ties all together. But had the good sense to attach a fishing line to both ends so that the cord could be mended later. He did this a few times and saved perhaps five universes out of the countless sum. He tried to get Shiva to help out and save some more but the god had sworn a noninterference oath and was determined to uphold it.

Sometimes avoiding a complete disaster is all we can hope for. That a few are left standing at the end of the tragedy. Oh in time the five will spawn others and the diversity of universes will return. But for a time all life must ponder the tragic outcome and the gelatinous mess left behind.

Smolensk must go on... forgetting its role in the horrible events... we all must go on.

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I rest much easier now that this mill stone has been removed from around my neck. Yes I still cry sometimes in the middle of the night. But the wraiths and demons no longer torment me.

When dessert time comes at large dinner gatherings I always decline. I always avoid the pudding section at the supermarket now.

Jello has been the end of many a man it is true. But I have done my work to make sure it doesn't claim you.

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