All the Secrets of the Universe and Some Really Important Stuff Too!
Feel free to comment with your own jokes.
I took this shot at the Pensacola Mardi Gras. Not sure what to think or say about it other than to note I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t do that unless possessed by demons and maybe not even then.
If you go through my entire book looking for moments of humor, I think there are fewer than ten. And that is counting sarcasm as humor. I’m guessing that in an adventure story that’s probably not unusual. With a team of men that know each other pretty well, there will be a certain amount of banter which can be defined as humor. But, I don’t feel like I’ve fallen below some critical thresh-hold of comedic content.
But, at the same time, I have to confess that comedy is one of the things I greatly enjoy in stories. To my mind stories that do not have a certain amount of humor seem flat and lacking in interest. And for that reason, I was recently wondering if I could introduce a character in my next book that is a “wise guy.” And by wise guy I’m not thinking of the Good Fellas definition of an Italian American mobster as a wise guy. I’m harking back to my childhood when every block had at least one guy who was the clown. In my neighborhood we had a kid who today would equate most closely to an insult comic. He was a mimic and he could find a way to mock anyone and everyone. This often earned him at least a mild beating if the victims of his mockery pooled their strength to grapple him to the ground and pummel him until he shut up. But it was almost as if he couldn’t help himself. He was a slave to his craft.
Now I don’t intend to try and recreate that type of juvenile humor but I think I could make a character who doesn’t know when to shut up. I’m guessing I’d have to do a lot of work editing the dialog from this character because obviously that’s the kind of thing that pretty easily can be taken too far. As an example, look at the movie Dead Pool. This character shoots an almost endless series of insulting jokes at every other character in range regardless of whether they’re friends or enemies. For the most part it’s entertaining but at some points it can become wearisome. So, I understand that doing comedy “right” is a matter of balance and skill. And the other part of it is providing the “comic” with a foil; a straight man. So Dead Pool needs the haplessly earnest Colossus as the butt of a lot of his jokes. Building up a duo like that must be handled carefully so that these two characters can be more than caricatures. And all of this mustn’t take away from the main action of the story but merely come off as the personalities of the characters involved. It needs to seem organic to the relationship of the people involved.
Now after talking all that through, it seems like this would be a lot of work for not much gain to the story. But for whatever reason, I’m excited by the idea. Making the characters real seems to be as important to the writer as making the action exciting. I’ve found myself actually caring for my make-believe people as if they were real. Well, anyway, tonight I was thinking of humor.
Dr. Morbius – Young man, my daughter is going to be terribly punished for what she just said.
J J Adams – Dr Morbius, don’t you understand it’s your subconscious that is responsible for all this death and destruction?
Dr. Morbius – What, me harm my own daughter.
J J Adams – Well, look at those gages. Your subconscious monster will use whatever amount of unlimited power it takes to break through that door.
Dr. Morbius – I’m helpless to stop this terrible power.
Altaira – John please do something.
J J Adams – Alright I will. (draws his sidearm and fatally wounds Dr Morbius who falls to the ground)
(The gages of the Krell machine quickly settle down to minimal levels and the door that was white hot cools visibly.)
Dr. Morbius – Son, throw that switch.
J J Adams – What will it do?
Dr. Morbius – It will initiate a chain reaction inside the Krell thermonuclear power plants that will unstoppably consume the planet in a miniature nova. The Krell technology is too dangerous for humanity. It must be destroyed.
J J Adams – Sorry Dr Morbius, I disagree. The technology they possessed was too dangerous for them and for you. But we’ll harvest the Krell knowledge without unleashing any subconscious monsters and I predict we’ll do just fine.
(Morbius expires)
Altaira – John, what do we do now?
J J Adams – Our first problem is how to get out of here. That door will be cool soon but it’s probably permanently welded shut. I’ll contact my crew and we’ll provide a funeral ceremony for your father and Doc. Afterwards we’ll get back in touch with Earth and begin the start of the project to decipher the Krell technology. That will be the largest step change in human knowledge since the discovery of the faster than light drive. It will take tens of thousands of scientists and engineers centuries to mine all of the knowledge here.
Altaira – But what will become of me?
J J Adams – That depends on what you want to do. If you want to stay on Altair IV, you will have many opportunities to press your legal right to some kind of remuneration for the government’s seizure of the Krell technology. I’d say you may end up as one of the wealthiest humans in the galaxy.
Altaira – But what about us?
J J Adams – Well Alta, a starship captain doesn’t make enough of a salary to impress an heiress but if you can wait a year for a wedding I can most probably wangle a desk job on Altair IV and we can see whether your interest in biology is strictly academic or not.
Altaira – I’ll wait for you John. I don’t want to leave my home. But with my father gone I need someone to help me figure out my future.
J J Adams – Well, as I said I’ll be stuck here indefinitely while the military secures the Krell infrastructure. So, you’ll get a chance to get to know me when I’m not killing your relatives or fighting invisible monsters.
(They embrace, kiss and then begin the search for a way out.)
In the alien spaceship approaching the mothership:
David: Head straight for it.
Steve: What the hell?
David: Don’t touch them. Don’t, don’t, don’t! I was counting on this. They are bringing us in.
Steve: When the hell was you gonna tell me?
David: Oops.
Steve: We’ve got to work on our communication.
Seeing the troops inside the mother ship
David: Oh, my God! Look at that! There must be thousands of them.
Steve: Millions of them. What the hell are they doing?
David: Looks like they’re preparing an invasion.
The ship docks with the alien command center and David attempts to upload his virus into the alien control system.
David: (CLAPS) We’re in. (SIGHS) Do it. Do it. Do it.
Back on Earth:
General: Sir, he’s uploading the virus. Eagle One, the package is being delivered. Stand by!
In the Alien spaceship:
David: Oh yeah, oh yeah! One more step.
Suddenly the screen flashes a message in the alien text. David pushes several keys and the message resolves into English, “INPUT PASSWORD.” David lets out a strangled scream and says:
David: Steve we’re cooked. I have no idea what to enter.
Steve: Just write password in lower case.
David: That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We know nothing of their language or software rules.
Steve: Yeah, well then how the hell were you able to write a virus that would work in their system?
David: Well, that’s a good point. Let’s see, p a s s w o r d. Good heavens it worked!
Steve: Of course it worked. There’s only twenty minutes left in the movie. We have a few threats left like the ship docking lock that won’t release and then the pursuit by the three alien interceptor craft and finally the debris field created by the nuclear explosion in the mother ship and then we’ll be home free to the heroes’ welcome where the pretty girls jump into our arms and kiss us.
David: Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Tell me does Randy Quaid manage to earn the respect of his stepson by saving the day during the fight against the alien ship back on Earth.
Steve: Yes, but he dies sacrificing his life to destroy the ship by crashing into the alien ship’s primary weapon.
David: Well, that’s probably for the better. He was a very silly and annoying character. After all, if he really had been abducted by the aliens why would he still be alive?
Steve: Good point. Do you think we’ll get to be in the sequel in twenty years?
David: Well, I will be. By then I’ll be looking for an easy paycheck to retire on but you’ll be a much bigger star and won’t want your name associated with the kind of cheesy project that a sequel to this goofy movie will likely be.
Steve: Yeah, I think you’re right. I’ll probably concentrate on high end projects directed by Steven Spielberg. Of course, I’ll leave space for the occasional sequel to “Bad Boys.” You shouldn’t forget what got you to the dance.
David: Yeah, I’m hoping to make at least one more sequel to “The Fly” one of these days.
Steve: Oy!
When I received the call from RoboDriver I had been lamenting the fact that I hadn’t received an offer for a date in seven years. That’s why I prefer robots. They’re a cleaner breed. They never have dandruff.
I arrived at the plant where the incident had occurred. This was the only manufacturing site for the Higgs bosonic brain. Of course there was a reason for this. The instability of this boson was so extreme that the robots were constantly in a state of nervous exhaustion and frequently flew into a rage and killed everyone around them. As you might imagine this was seriously cutting into profits.
I entered the office of the CEO of RoboDriver and he said, “Thank you for your swift response, ma’am.” I retorted, “I prefer to be addressed as Dr. Daystrom. She/her.” He replied, “Alright Dr. Daystrom-she-her. We need to troubleshoot exactly why one of our robots went on a killing spree in downtown San Francisco today and come up with an action plan to solve the problem and convince our customers to use RoboDriver for all their driving needs.”
Gritting my teeth over his insulting greeting I said I would begin a thorough forensic investigation that would include interviews with all of the witnesses, review of all of the technical documents for the manufacturing and quality assurance records, a comprehensive search of all similar problems over the last twenty years and an electron microscopy examination of the Higgs bosonic brain of the killer robot. He asked, “How long will that take?” I answered, “About forty minutes.” He was taken aback, “How could you possibly complete such an investigation in forty minutes?”
I replied, “Because there’s no need to do any of that. Everybody knows that the Higgs bosonic brain has a 100% failure rate within one week of installation and of the 1,343 cases of robot committed homicides, 100% of them were robots possessing a Higgs bosonic brain.” He said, “Oh. Well, you have a point there.” I followed up, “But you know that already. Why does RoboDriver continue to use the Higgs bosonic brain when the US Robotics positronic brain has a stellar record of safety and longevity? US Robotics licenses their technology and has a good reputation for working hand in glove with their partners.”
The CEO got up from his desk and shut the door to his office and walked over to my chair, cleared his throat and said in hushed tones, “The fact of the matter is we were the victims of a hostile takeover by a venture capital group that installed a cost-cutting program that identified the fact that licensing Higgs bosonic brains instead of the positronic equivalent would save seventeen cents for each robot equipped. Now after the fact, this savings seems to pale in comparison to the 1,343 wrongful death suits and the Justice Department’s grand jury indictments but all of that stuff won’t hit the fan until after Christmas so what we need is a band-aid to keep this under control until the December bonuses get handed out. So, what can you do?”
I looked down at the floor and shuddered and told him I’d see what I could do. I headed out onto the programming floor and using the clearance card I had been given by the CEO began writing some new code for the RoboDriver robots. I loaded the code onto a server and began the download to the entire robot fleet. I headed for the front door just as the first wave of murder-bots stormed the C-suite. Well, so much for their bonuses.
The Galactic Corps had relentlessly pursued the evil anti-civilizational organization of Carpone from one end of the Milky Way to the other. They had methodically identified and rooted out each level of Carpone until they had finally located the heart of the organization. This galaxy spanning criminal conspiracy was headquartered on a planet called Sflprugm. Sflprugm was as hard to approach as it was to pronounce. All the space within a two-parsec radius had been planted with detection devices meant to alert Sflprugmians of any approaching danger. Only the Corps’ ultra-advanced spy rays had allowed them to study Sflprugm from a safe distance and so size up the enemy. And they were a worthy opponent. The defensive screens that protected Sflprugm were beyond impregnable. No imaginable fleet of battle cruisers could hope to breach the screens. And the Sflprugmian fleet was as large as and as deadly as the Corps’ own.
To solve the problem of conquering the Sflprugmians the Corps turned to the greatest living scientist of the age Dr. Balbus Blabbnoy. His work on trans-dimensional ballistics was required reading at the Academy. He was tasked with calculating the trajectory of an anti-matter planet from the Psi-Gamma dimension and forcing it into our universe with just the correct entrance and momentum needed to collide with Sflprugm. It was assumed that much of their fleet would be destroyed with their planet. But the Corps’ fleet would be assembled to mop up the remnants.
Admiral Bowser planned out the exact coordinates for the fleet’s convergence. It would appear out of hyperspace about five billion miles from Sflprugm; safely beyond the radius of destruction but close enough to pursue the remaining vessels.
Dr Blabbnoy would be on the bridge of Admiral Bowser’s flagship; The Superponderous and when zero hour arrived, he would throw the switch which would trigger a sub-ether wave that would activate a device in Psi-Gamma that would cause a sub-atomic generator to generate a worm hole that would translate the anti-matter planet into our space-time with devastating results for Sflprugm.
Balbus was on the bridge and Admiral Bowser noticed how extremely tired the scientist was. He was mumbling something under his breath that the Admiral thought sounded like, “Was it X15 or X-15? Now the Admiral had never gotten past high school algebra but even to his non-mathematical ears this didn’t sound promising.
When the clock ticked down to zero Dr. Blabbnoy screamed, “X15!“ and slammed the button. For a few seconds nothing seemed to be happening. The sub-space screens failed to show any irruption in the space near Sflprugm. But while the navy was watching their screens Dr. Blabbnoy was looking out the front window of the ship and that was where he saw the irruption. The missing anti-matter planet was about five hundred miles from the flagship and heading toward it and the rest of the fleet with about twenty seconds before impact. All he could think to say was, “X-15!“
Suffice it to say that this was not the finest hour for the Corps or human civilization or even computational science. But it was one of those examples from history of exactly the danger in not checking your work. Or even more importantly having someone else check your work. But most certainly it taught us to never trust anyone with a name as ridiculous as Balbus Blabbnoy with almost limitless power. How could it not be a disaster?
Larry Sheldon (25,501 – 25,587 N.E.) – Founder of the science of psycho-cosmography, famously quoted as saying, “Look, we needed more space so we invented starships. What’s the big deal?” Creator of the Sheldon Plan whereby the new empire was replaced by the new, new empire and the outpost world Zero became the Bulwark for this new order. He was a secretive and reclusive genius who suffered from acute fear of other people’s body odor. Some historians now believe his existence may have been apocryphal.
(Encyclopedia Publicius Domainius, 1023 edition)
Here he stood in the center of the galaxy, the administrative capital of the new empire; Titantor! A world that circled the central black hole of the Milky Way galaxy. Only an incredibly powerful anti-gravity field prevented Titantor from being ripped to shreds and swallowed by the gravitational force of its evil black star. A steady stream of planets and debris had to be fed into the anti-gravity generator to keep this horrific imbalance in existence. But such was the power of this empire and its vanity that the whim of the emperor was enough to maintain this cosmic madness.
And here he stood Bob Goodfellow, a fresh graduate of the Arcturus Community College and Creamery here to put his knowledge of psycho-cosmography to good use assisting Larry Sheldon to save the new empire from the forces of entropy that threatened to tear it apart and bring on a trillion years of barbarism and low credit scores for everyone. And he was nervous. Meeting a genius like Larry Sheldon was intimidating. He could feel sweat forming on his forehead. He wiped it away with a handkerchief. And suddenly there was Sheldon walking toward him smiling and looking him over nervously, “Bob, good to finally meet you. Yeah, I’m not big on shaking hands or standing downwind of people. So, let’s walk with the wind in our faces and you following me at about a six-foot distance. Thanks!”
Within these strictures they covered the distance to the Titantor Senate building in about an hour and Goodfellow watched from the gallery as Dr Sheldon was cross-examined by the representatives of the Imperial Science Foundation.
The Pontifex Maximus grilled him, “Dr. Sheldon, you claim that using the energy output of fifty billion stars to turn the Smaller Magellanic Cloud into a jacuzzi for the emperor’s concubines will lead to the heat death of the galaxy. Do you have any proof of this?”
Larry sat with his handkerchief clutched over his nose recoiling at the examiner’s overpowering cologne, “Well, the fact that the population of the empire has decreased from a million-billion-billion to seventy-eight would seem to be a relatively strong indicator, mathematically speaking.” The Pontifex made a rude noise and scoffed, “What nonsense! This mighty capitol; Titantor, on its own, is home to countless billions. We see them all around us!”
Larry used his emergency inhaler and continued, “Yes, but they’re all robots. In fact, it’s worse than the numbers indicate. There are only thirteen women of childbearing age left and half of them are Vestal Virgins. We’re going to have to really rethink a lot of priorities if this whole shebang is going to last past Wednesday.”
This sparked outrage and shouting among the senators. The concomitant bad breath overwhelmed Larry and he swooned in the witness chair. … To be continued!!!!
Girl Boss Anchor – I’m here in Anchorage Alaska with my former colleague David Books. Hello David.
David Books – Hello Girl Boss Anchor.
Girl Boss Anchor – David how were you able to get time off from Red Lobster for this remote assignment?
David Books – I’m supposed to be taste testing a large batch of King Crab legs that’s being shipped to us.
Girl Boss Anchor – How plebian.
David Books – Up yours, lady.
Girl Boss Anchor – Moving right along. We’re here to provide commentary on the historic meeting between President Donald Trump and President Vladimir Putin as they make a vain attempt to broker a peace in Ukraine.
David Books – Well, shouldn’t you at least pretend that you want this to succeed?
Girl Boss Anchor – If you insist David. And look Trump and Putin are walking out of the conference room smiling and laughing. Something must be up. Let’s listen to their statement.
Donald Trump – As President of the United States; a very great country, I am happy to announce that we have negotiated a fair and equitable solution to the Ukraine war. And just as I said it required some territory swapping. Right Vladimir?
Vladimir Putin – You said it, Droog!
Donald Trump – I will be in contact with President Zelensky of Ukraine and let him know that Ukraine will not have to cede any land for peace. But it will be necessary to allow any Russian or even Ukrainian citizens who want to leave Ukraine to report to a relocation center for processing.
Girl Boss Anchor – Mr. President, are you saying that Russian speaking Ukrainians will be migrated to Russia for resettlement?
Donald Trump – Well, technically yes. But only because these new territories will become part of Russia.
Girl Boss Anchor – What does that mean?
Donald Trump – The Ukrainian thing has been folded into a larger land deal. You know how I enjoy real estate deals. Well, sometimes if you combine several deals together the combination is greater than the sum of its parts.
Girl Boss Anchor – But what other deals are there?
Donald Trump – Well, you’ve probably heard that Western Canada is getting ready to vote on seceding from Canada. That’s British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba. And you know how I’m interested in picking up Greenland. And you know how miserable the West Coast; California, Oregon and Washington are. And the Northeast is just as miserable living under my presidency. So, I’ve brokered a tentative deal. Russia gets Alaska, the West Coast and British Columbia. We get Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba and Greenland and Canada get the Northeast. As far as I can see it’s win/win/win.
Vladimir Putin – Da! Santa Barbara much nicer than Crimea, bah!
Donald Trump – See everybody’s happy.
David Books – What are you talking about? That’s insane. That would require a constitutional amendment to allow the ceding of US territory. The Canadians will never agree to it and the Russians are our existential foes that threaten us with nuclear annihilation at the drop of a hat. And the West Coast will never stand for Russian autocracy.
Donald Trump – Yeah, well, I made a few calls and everybody’s on board. We can dot the i’s and cross the t’s later but shouldn’t you be down on the dock tasting crab legs Booksie?
David Books – You’ll never get away with this. Putin is a war criminal and no one will do business with him if he tries something like this.
Donald Trump – Well I wouldn’t get him mad at you if I were you. After all you’ll be buying Russian King Crabs from him very soon.
Vladimir Putin – Da, Booksie. Try to keep it friendly comrade. You wouldn’t want to see a price hike, now, would you?
David Books – I really have to take up drinking.
Girl Boss Anchor – And there you have it viewers. Donald Trump has used insane Solomonic horse trading to recast the world we live in and apparently my choice is move to flyover country or become a Canadian, bleh.
David Books – Hey shut up! I’m Canadian!
Girl Boss Anchor – Well viewers, good night and have an anti-depressed tomorrow.
Primativa Babullah – Welcome to the PBS NewsHour and I’m your host Primativa Babullah and tonight I will be interviewing President Donald Trump and will find out what new atrocities he plans to inflict on the people of this country and the rest of the world. Good evening Mr. President.
Donald Trump – That was a very nasty introduction. What foreign country are you from where they’re that rude?
Primativa Babullah – I’m from Westchester.
Donald Trump – Well, that explains it. They have no class up there.
Primativa Babullah – Mr. President, the whole world is waiting to hear what new outrage you have waiting for us. Yesterday you fired the head of the BLS. The day before that you raised tariffs on India. What’s next.
Donald Trump – I’m glad you asked Boola Boola. I’ve had my DOGE crew looking into ways to get all those lazy useless bureaucrats to quit and save the tax payers a lot of dough. And they came up with something really good. What they discovered is that most of these people have become very fat from eating free government doughnuts. Especially the ones with the chocolate coating and the sprinkles. So today I signed an executive order banning the sale, manufacture and ingestion of sprinkles withing the District of Columbia. That’s another name for Washington Boola Boola.
Primativa Babullah – My name is not Boola Boola, Mr. President. It’s Primativa Babullah.
Donald Trump – Yeah okay whatever.
Primativa Babullah – But how will banning sprinkles from Washington help you to reduce the budget?
Donald Trump – I will let it be known that sprinkles will be available at one new government office site going forward.
Primativa Babullah – And that place will be?
Donald Trump – A new facility down in Florida. Here it is on the map.
Primativa Babullah – But sir, that’s Alligator Alcatraz!
Donald Trump – No, no. That’s across the lagoon. This is called Crocodile Castle. It’s a much classier place.
Primativa Babullah – You want government workers to work in a prison.
Donald Trump – It’s not a prison. It’s a cutting-edge office environment that utilizes various incentives and feedback mechanisms to get the maximum value out of the employees. For instance, there is an exercise facility that also helps correct a slight flaw in the construction design. The stationary bicycles that the employees operate while working are attached to the pumps that keep the water level below the containment wall that keeps out the local fauna; let’s see Burmese pythons, American crocodiles, Nile monitor lizards.
Primativa Babullah – Why that’s horrible! These people have to pedal for their lives?
Donald Trump – Well, technically we can’t force them to keep pedaling. But it’s probably a really good idea if they do. And they can take turns. They don’t have to pedal more than eighteen hours a day, on average.
Primativa Babullah – But this is obviously illegal. It’s a form of slavery.
Donald Trump – No, actually it’s just the terms of their employment. They can always quit.
Primativa Babullah – But why go through all of these elaborate machinations just to save some government salaries? Surely there’s an easier way.
Donald Trump – Because it makes great television. I’m going to put this on one of the cable networks and call it, “So You Wanted to be a Lazy Slug!” We’ll rig it so every Friday a python will get in and chase the fattest worker around the bathroom or something. It’ll be an instant hit. We’ll make a fortune.
Primativa Babullah – Mr. Trump, you truly are a monster.
Donald Trump – Hey I don’t try to sell people crappy over-priced tote bags so don’t get all holier than thou with me Boola Boola.
Primativa Babullah – Dammit, it’s not Boola Boola, it’s just plain Boola. I mean Babullah.
Donald Trump – Hey calm down lady. You asked me for this interview.
Primativa Babullah – Well, I’m sorry I did.
Donald Trump – Alright boys let’s roll. Find the closest McDonalds. I’m hungry (leaves the set).
Primativa Babullah – Well folks, sorry for that fiasco. As you heard, the President has become unhinged. But thanks to PBS this is the kind of hard-hitting journalism you come to expect from us. Make sure to stick around for our begathon, I mean telethon coming right up. Stay tuned and enjoy an anti-depressed viewing hour.
