Monday, 28 April 2008


part three. all the parts can be found here.

Ready or not, here I go.

I had said my goodbyes, to as many people as I could manage. None of them believed me, and when I used the Sight on them, I discovered that they just thought I was drunk, and with good reason. As soon as I got back from yesterday's encounter, the dorm master had told me that I had finally been accepted in to the job pool, which meant that there was a good chance of me finally earning some money. But by that time I couldn't care less; the rational part of my brain had completely taken over and refused to give it a second thought.

It wasn’t like I had a choice anyway. I couldn’t simply leave him there; there was nowhere else I could leave to. So I woke up at three, after having nightmare after nightmare of me walking around as a zombie, of me being fried alive on the surface of Betelgeuse, of various other things that I couldn’t recall, but only knew were horrifying, and I did something I hadn’t thought was possible.

I talked to the world.


Drat had gone to sleep at sundown. He knew it would be his first good night of sleep since he arrived on this Terra. He was even looking forward to it, a little. He had found an abandoned apartment close to the edge of the city, and within the first week had managed to steal more than a few necessities and comforts. The mattress he was sleeping on had only a few tears, and those had been easy enough to repair. He hadn’t done a very good job, but he’d never expected to stay more than a month.

So after more than eight solid hours of sleep, something woke him up. Someone was using the Sight, but it was the strangest application of it he’d ever experienced. Every time a new Terra joined the Senate, they always came up with interesting variations of its use, but this was inexplicable.

This had to be the boy. But what in dreams could he be doing?

He thought about the problem. When faced with an unknown, describe it in terms of the known.

The boy was using the Sight, but not any one person. Or even on a specific number of people. He was sensing the thoughts of the entire planet. Surely that wasn’t possible. To use the Sight you had to have some experience of the target; an image, a voice-rec, or the scent of his body at the very least. But the boy couldn’t have experiences of every person he was Seeing-

That was it. He couldn’t have been talking to the whole world, but he was Seeing everyone he possibly could. Every one he had more than the slightest bit in common with. And that number was large enough to make the boy think he was talking to the whole world, and he was broadcasting that thought to everyone he was Seeing.

Everyone he had anything in common with. But that included everyone awake at this time of night, which included-


The boy had managed to use the Sight on him, and Drat hadn’t even noticed.

There was only one place where he could have learnt this kind of technique. The first time they met, Drat had specifically used the Sight on the boy, to find out everything he possibly could. The boy was just using that same ability, but on a much larger scale.

There was nothing to be done about it. The boy hadn’t awakened the ability in any one else, if he had, they would have died from so much exposure, especially since they had no idea what was going on. And if someone he was Seeing that intimately had died, so would he. So he would eventually give up to fatigue, go back to sleep, and eventually, in the morning, he would arrive.

But how in Hell could he have done something on that scale without ripping the universe apart? On any other Terra, he’d be a berserker, and he would have created so many Storms that the whole universe itself would be reduced to tatters.

And what could he do with the boy, now that he knew this?


The next morning, I awoke feeling better than I had in years. I felt I knew my place in the world, and I had come to terms with the fact that I’d probably never see it again. I’d grown up, in more than a few ways, I thought.

At least I was leaving the hellhole I called home.

So at ten in the morning, not caring whether any saw me leave, I walked out of my dorm, knowing full well that on any other day, I would have gotten up at the crack of dawn to try and get ready the fastest and not have to get lectured by the dorm-master, which invariably made us even later.

I took the subway to Blue Hollow, which was supposedly named after a famous pub that used to exist there, and then used the last of my money to take the bus that would get me to his hidey-hole.

He was waiting for me just outside the building he inhabited. He never actually lived there, that meant the apartment was his home, which it very obviously wasn’t. So I had named it his inhabitation.

He looked at me, and for the first time since I had known him, he grinned at me.

‘So, boy, shall we leave?’

It was a relatively simple process. He gave me almost no time to answer, or react in any way. He just grabbed my shoulder, held his beeping thing in his other hand, and spoke some words that I almost recognised. And a blackness later, the time of which I couldn’t gauge, we were in ….. space.

It was a truly awesome experience, in every sense of the word. There we were, a billion light years, or so it seemed, from anything, and we were surrounded by millions upon millions of stars, of galaxies.

He had done his bit. It was time for me to do mine.


They had done it. There they were, in the middle of nowhere, and all the boy needed to do was Call the Storm. The boy wasted one of his precious moments in staring in wonder, but Drat knew that couldn’t be avoided. If he was going to be exposed to the universe itself, then he might as well learn to enjoy it. Then the boy’s brow wrinkled in effort, and not more than three seconds later, a Storm was flying towards them. Though ‘gliding’ was probably the more accurate term.

There it was. A Storm. His road to freedom. And he knew everything about it. He had had more than enough time to study it. He knew its spin, its direction, its angle to reality, in short, he knew everything. He could go anywhere.


Every single Terra in existence was open to him now. If he could think of it, he could get to it.


He was vaguely aware of the boy’s mind screaming in terror, shouting something into the ether. At that point, Drat couldn’t care less.


I Called the Storm for him. And then I realised what a monumentally stupid thing I’d done. I had used the Sight to summon a Black Hole.

Then the Storm, or Hole, or whatever you wanted to call it, had us in its grasp, and he was just struck dumb. He was just paralysed. So I changed our positions relative to reality, and suddenly, we were in the middle, and then, we were somewhere else.

Hell’s bells.

He had frozen, like some rookie out on his first mission, and even worse, the boy threw both of them into the Storm without so much as a ‘Where are we going?’.

By Valhalla and Odin, he was in a load of horse manure, and he’d-

Why was he thinking like some hero?

Where had the boy taken them?

its not too bad, but i have to start shortening the lengths of the bits. I was listening to the star wars theme as i wrote this, just for that extra boost. hopefully it worked

Friday, 25 April 2008

The trick
To life
Is not
To get too attached to it

nice lyric!

Sunday, 20 April 2008

yesterday i was at a party, and i had a laptop and was watching some kids play some tank-killing game on the wii. after hearing thee first three or four hilarious comments, i promptly opened up my blog and rtanscribed almost everything they said.
these kids cant be more than seven or eight.

head start
does that mean - is this your homework?

you actually planted a bomb you homicidal freak ahaan

HOMICIDAL FREAK!!!!! <------ this was repeated every fifteen seconds or so

lets do this again

and that'll 'splode that and then we'll win

press b-B!

do millions of bombs

i didnt die dintcha know

you can only do two bombs

oh jesus

who's winning?

how did you go past one of them?

how did you get in to his thing?

too bad, im dead

thats eeeaaasssyy

i killed all four

who died?

ill be homicidal, here!

you suicidal (unintelligible screams)

at this point im so bored i start playing
soumithris crap
so, who gives
me: so who gives what?
who gives a crap?

soumithri youll die
(i promptly die)

are you crazy or what?

if you dare be suicidal, ill kill you


oh youve got to die you killed yourself youre going to die

i killed two and im still alive!

could you believe i survived speeding bullets!

who wants to play hide and seek after this?
i do

now its my tuuuuuurn!

i can spell PEANUTS!
(unfortunately, to my suggestible mind this was heard differently)

its jericho wise in the house!!! <------ still trying to figure out exactly what this means

you actually killed me when the bomb blew

noone's better than me in this room

are you dead?

I saw that one!

why did you kill me?
I diden!

hubbabubbalubbayou diden eat my lubba <-------- this doesn't do justice to the original

what aaarreee you?

who cares?

do you even know who frankenstein is?

Friday, 18 April 2008

Murphy’s Law: If anything can go wrong, it will.

This, like ‘Cheese goes with everything’, is a fundamental law of the universe.

First Corollary: This usually occurs at the worst possible moment.
Second Corollary: If it has not gone wrong, it is only because it has a greater capacity to do so at a later date.

Sooner or later, everything goes wrong. It's a question of when, not if. There are a billion examples of this.
We've broken our environment; it'll be decades before we can fix it.
We're running out of oil, in a few years time the only way I'll be able to get back home is if I take a sailing ship across the Channel and then hike across three thousand miles.
After the last five years of economic growth, the whole world is looking at a recession the likes of which we haven't seen since 1930.
George Bush was elected President, twice.
The list never stops (No, I lie. The list does stop. The last thing is that I nearly killed myself the other day. I was wearing my tie and I forgot to stop pulling).

This is an extremely pessimistic view of life. If everything goes wrong, what's the point? The point is that while it is true that somewhere something will break, we shouldn't lose hope. Life would be painfully boring if all of us just sat around and did nothing. But since only some of us are lazy, we say everybody's different and move on. Another basic truth of the universe is that Boredom is the single most painful punishment that has been handed to us. If we have committed serious crimes in our past, then all the time we are made to spend staring into space is God's revenge.

On the other hand, it also questions the usefulness of some of the things we do. It could be argued that if something is going to get over eventually, you'd better start looking for alternatives fast, and once you've found those alternatives, switch to them. Unfortunately, solar panels are prohibitively costly, you need about ten windmills to boil a kettle, and either way, when they break, you'll need a whole new kind of engineer to come and fix them up, and Lord knows how much those'll cost.

This is why we have holidays. The sheer stress of having to fix things all the time is what made God rest on the seventh day.
That is the most obvious proof for Murphy’s Law. The existence of the human race. Just imagine. God’s plan didn’t go wrong, Eve and Adam didn’t eat the Fruit (of the Tree of the Knowledge of- oh, you get the point), and we’d never be here, and no one would be inventing more and more things that go wrong all the time.

Right now, the biggest thing that can go wrong is the American election. Since the war in Afghanistan is already dead, and the war in Iraq is failing, the only place America can go is up. But something can still go wrong. The next American president could be John McCain, who will continue the war in Iraq, ignore the crisis in Afghanistan and generally continue the miserable state of affairs.

History is being made today, more so than in the last ten years. In fifty years, they will look back at this decade and say ‘This is why Bush invaded Iraq.’ They will look back on the 2008 Beijing Olympics, and they will be able to analyse the situation in Tibet in relation to it, and it will probably be studied by Modern History graduates.
It’s certainly a very interesting situation. Or it would be if we weren’t living through it. It’s much less dangerous than, say, living through the Second World War. It’s better than having to survive the Great Depression. Living through most things doesn’t really make one an expert on the event, especially if you’re only sixteen. But the election, the Olympics, and the activation of the LHC (the large hadron collider at CERN) all later this year will make this year, if not this decade, a momentous one. Maybe, in the years to come, physicists will say ‘This is exactly why the LHC was always doomed to failure.’

As a final proof of Murphy’s Law, I leave you with this. The original article meant to be in this space went totally wrong.
I sincerely thank the editor for not allowing the original to be shown to the public. And since Murphy’s Law predicts that someone will find it and laugh at it anyway, this is just a minor delaying tactic.