Archive for the ‘Authors’ Category
Handy Tips for Detecting Interdimensional Travelers
Thursday, October 1st, 2009
1. Say “Hey, you dropped something!” Interdimensional travelers will often look up.
2. Talk about historical events that never happened and look for nods of agreement. For instance, look at a newspaper while shaking your head in disgust and say “This is exactly like when Benedict Arnold invaded Canada.” (Note: in universe M-117, the so called “reality television” dimensional instantiation, this actually happened.)
This approach does not work as well in some countries, such as the United States, where most citizens are completely ignorant of history.
3. Dye a small, white Maltese dog electric purple and place a headset on it. While this is admittedly not the easiest possible approach, walking down the street with such a creature will tend to send most experienced interdimensional travelers into a screaming panic, as it approximates the appearance of a Dominating Brain Eater Colonization Beast from the RG-12 instantiation.
4. Invite the suspected interdimensional traveler on a picnic. Choose a cloudy day so as to avoid direct sunlight, which makes many travelers nervous and will tend to elicit a plausible excuse about why they can’t make it. Avoid sexual overtones (for obvious reasons).
Pack the following items: twelve mini-cupcakes with mint frosting; one or more bottles of tonic water; a small tub of potato salad, left out for at least three days to ensure it goes bad; and a variety of small pieces of tourmaline cut to give the appearance (to the casual observer) of normal toothpicks.
While at the picnic, set out the mini-cupcakes and take in hand one of the bottles of tonic water. Offer the suspected traveler the potato salad container to open and surreptitiously shake one of the bottles of tonic water. When the salad is opened and the traveler involuntarily fliches away in disgust, momentarily distracted, open the tonic water and let it spray all over the traveler. Stray drops will hit the mint cupcakes, turning the frosting pink if the individual is a traveler. If the frosting turns orange, the traveler is a disguised vortex bear from B-494, and you are in imminent peril. Stab it several times through the heart with one or more of the tourmaline toothpicks, or alternatively, get up and run like hell.
Ups and Downs
Wednesday, September 30th, 2009
He knows Hell is at the bottom and Heaven is at the top, but those are simplified concepts and don’t really tell him much about quality of afterlife.
So he stands on an up escalator cause that’s the sort of life he’s lived so far. It’s not like he’s always been going up, but he’s done a solid job overall. Paid taxes, used exact change, tipped generously, put the seat down. Important stuff.
The escalators stretch far into the distance, up to his right, down to his left, endless across the vastness around him. Some faster, some slower. People in different stages. The rhythmic clicks and squeaks of life flow around him.
He glances at the faces of the people going up faster than him, almost eager to get there.
This story isn’t about them.
It’s not about his parents who went separate ways when he was young, not about the few friends he had in high school. It’s always about where he is in his own story, even if most people ignore their own paths and read themselves in the trajectories of others.
He knows his story is about the only girl he loved, the one he should have married, the kids he should have had with her, the Karmann Ghia he never should have traded for a Suburban. But mostly it’s about the girl.
He’s always known he would see her again, and he finally chose to put himself on the right path to make it happen.
This is the middle. The point to embark or disembark. There’s a lot to be said for being able to change direction at any time, any place, but there’s even more to be said for doing it, for recognizing the reality of your situation and taking a chance when it could be your last.
She comes into view in an instant. No warning. It’s always like this. Radiant and beautiful and everything he remembers, extra years be damned. She’s moving downward a bit faster than he expects, but you can’t have everything.
He knows it’s not like the escalator’s going to stop for him. It’s like Mitch Hedberg’s joke about an escalator never breaking, just becoming stairs. But even Mitch made it off the ride in one direction or the other and he’s not telling jokes anymore.
She passes him, turns, sees him too, and in that instant he knows this is his one chance. It’s six in one, half a dozen in the other, blah blah fucking blah. He knows the choice he’s supposed to make. But it’s his story.
So he jumps the railing and runs down after her.