The Knight that Escaped the Chess Board

Hello All:

I wonder how many of my original readers are still around, and if so, how many remember today's short story that was originally written in 2008. 

The Knight that Escaped the Chess Board

He stood there motionless on his usual square among the other chess pieces, and wondered what life was like beyond the chess board. The knight realized that in order to escape the chess board, the ability to move was needed. This shouldn't have been difficult since the knight was a 3-dimensional figure that existed in a 4th dimensional universe which accommodated the transition of time.

The knight concentrated with all its might until finally gaining the power to move. As soon as this new power of animation was realized, the knight hopped over the pawn that stood before him, and looked around the chess board. He looked behind, and for the first time understood that he was once an inanimate chess piece like all the other pieces lined up on the board. Now he was moving about freely while contemplating an escape.

Drawing towards the edge of the chess board to look out while considering safety; the knight took a deep breath, nudged his horse to hop off and was soon on new ground. After galloping away, he looked behind to notice that only a moment ago, he was on a small board that sat on a flat surface. Now the knight was galloping along this new, flat surface which, unknown to him, was a table.

But then there was a new edge of a flat surface with an enormous drop to a much larger surface that appeared checkered. It was similar to the chess board where the knight came from, but designed differently. Is this what exploration had in store? Was existence simply a chess board on top of a flat surface on top of a larger chess board on top of a larger flat surface? Such a theory needed verification, so he gathered the nerve to plunge off into the abyss and landed on the larger chess board.

It was a rough landing, but after traveling along the new chess board (which unknown to him was tiled floor), the knight looked back and realized that moments before he was on a table that overlooked the larger chess board. And you can imagine that while galloping along this new, larger chess board; the knight contemplated of how large it was.

But soon he reached the end of the tiled floor, and found himself on a soft, plush surface. This soft surface continued to be wandered until reaching a barrier which, unknown to him, was a screen door to what appeared to be an infinite world with no boundaries. The knight managed to open this barrier and ventured out into this infinite world with seemingly no boundaries. As he galloped along, he stopped to look behind him and realized that just moments before, he was inside a house that had flat surfaces and a table where a chess board rested.

All day long the knight galloped and explored this new world where he encountered hills, valleys, forests and lakes. It just seemed to go on forever; and the knight was satisfied that he finally found a world with no boundaries. By nightfall he got off his horse so he and his partner could have some much, needed rest. While lying on the grass and gazing up at the stars and the moon that hung in the sky, the knight suddenly wondered if he truly did make it to a world with no confines or boundaries. All day he happily explored this new world, but remained on the ground. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that there were birds flying in the sky. It only triggered the realization that he remained trapped to the confines of the Earth. He decided that in the morning he would escape the ground and see what those stars and moon were.

Awakening the following morning, he hopped back on his horse and took off at high speed while encouraging the horse to jump. But the knight quickly came back down to the ground. He tried again, jumping and jumping and jumping, but soon realized it was not easy escaping the ground. Finally he tried with all his might which resulted in his ability to escape the confines of gravity. The knight looked back and realized that moments earlier he was on an enormous sphere that contained the forests, hills and valleys along with the house that had tables where chess boards sat. The knight continued traveling farther and farther away past the Earth. He galloped past the moon and past all the planets.

Eventually, the knight realized that the Earth that he was on, some time ago, was part of a network of other planets that seemed to revolve around the sun. But soon the sun grew smaller and smaller until he realized that he escaped the confines of the solar system as well.

The knight traveled through several solar systems and wondered what confines he was in that housed all of these solar systems. And it wasn't long before he broke through the Milky Way galaxy and looked back to see where he once was.

After some time, the knight began to notice a pattern. He was traveling past galaxies that contained stars that contained planets, which possibly had seemingly endless hills, valleys, and forests. But all of these galaxies had to be confined to something. This thought just inspired him further to break the confines of whatever was housing these galaxies. Although he wasn’t aware, the knight set out on the difficult mission to break through the walls of the universe.

He looked out along the infinite and could see the edge of this confinement that he was trapped in, but just couldn't seem to reach that edge. The horse needed to travel faster, faster, faster until the knight and his horse were traveling way past the speed of light. Finally, the knight could feel that he was drawing closer to edge of his confinement. The walls of this confinement were expanding at an enormous rate and he needed to continue traveling past the speed of light to approach it.

Suddenly the knight got so close to the edge of the universe that the gravity of the expanding walls caused time to stand still. He was no longer in a 4th dimensional universe. This made animation nearly impossible for the knight. He needed to remain strong and break the confinement of 3rd dimensional reality. But soon he experienced the break down of 3rd dimensional existence as he drew closer to the walls of the universe. He didn't know this, but the very edge of the universe takes us back to when the universe was first born. It takes us back to when the universe was only two dimensional, and then one dimensional.

I don't know how he did this, but the knight remained strong enough to defeat the confines of a universe where there is no transition of time, and he followed his final one dimensional path right through the wall of the universe.

And then there was nothing. The knight was without form, without matter, without energy. The knight managed to escape the universe and travel back to a time when the universe was, well, what ever it was before it was.

Who knows where the knight is galloping off to now that he has escaped the confines of the universe? All I know is that I am short a chess piece on my chess board.

From Dropped Cake to Another Solar System

Hello All:

It's Podcast Tuesday, and we offer a surreal narrative beginning with a mundane office accident involving a ruined slice of cake, which serves as a catalyst for a journey toward interstellar self-discovery. After accidentally dropping a colleague's dessert onto a filthy breakroom floor, the narrator visits a local shop that transforms from a simple bakery into a space of metaphysical revelation. The shopkeeper initially insults the man's appearance and virility, but the encounter quickly shifts into a supernatural recognition of their shared alien heritage. By the story's end, the mundane goal of replacing food is forgotten as the characters communicate through celestial languages and manipulate light to express their true, cosmic origins.

Listen o Dropped Cake to Another Solar System

The Carousel

Hello All:

I thought I'd start the week off with a really interesting short story I had written back in 2011. It's always been one of my favorites. After all, we are getting close to the season of Halloween, and readers might like this sort of things. 

The Carousel

In a rare, once-in-a-lifetime occurrence; an employer who offers a modest salary might be fortunate enough to have a dedicated worker who goes above and beyond the call of duty. It might be a place like Funland Amusement Rides that in recent years has nearly declared every summer the last season in operation. Rides have gotten outdated and the grounds appear unkempt. Those operating the attractions, working in hospitality or maintaining the grounds are paid minimum wage and must endure the unpleasant reality of working twice, sometimes three times as hard since staffing is at a minimum. But despite what management expects, no one is willing to step up and work very hard. Would you? The people who run Funland Amusement Rides are unhappy, not very engaging with the guests and seem to be sluggish.

But then there is a special employee, Gertrude, who operates the bi-level carousel that is located in the corner of the park. Were-as most rides appear rusty and nearly falling apart; the carousel looks to be brand new and nearly glows from an illumination of its own. The reason? Not only does Gertrude operate that carousel from the time of park's opening to close, but she also comes in early to maintain the ride. An older immigrant woman who looks disheveled and hardly ever speaks; she has long strands of split-gray hairs and cracked, aged face. Her very mannerisms with quirky, odd behavior might suggest her to be a witch. In fact, many coworkers at the park maintain a strong aversion towards this woman because of this.

"That lady is weird!"

"She's creepy!"

But management doesn't care of how others feel about Gertrude. She is the model employee who exhibits a passion for her job. Why else would she come in with a collection of paint and brushes to carefully maintain the precious faces of those animals on the carousel? Gertrude personally loves each and every animal on that ride. Her art gives every horse, camel, lion and dragon a character of its own. And in recent times, she has begun to chisel and carve new expressions on their faces. Oh, how they looks so real and as-if to come to life!

Gertrude goes even further with her dedication to the ride. Recalling the old days when carousel music was hand played on an organ by the operator, Gertrude purchased and installed her own keyboard to play while the guests enjoyed going round and round on the animal of their choice. She wouldn't dare allow the shrilling voice of some electro-pop hip-hop artist to loudly blast through the speakers! Such a thing might be sacrilegious on her carousel.

Occasionally, park management might walk past the carousel on a fine Saturday afternoon. It's easy to admire the well-maintained animals that appear to nearly come to life. The ride has an illumination of its own and draws a large crowd of people who are eager to enjoy the attraction. But it's the music that slightly concerns management. If people didn't know any better, the pitch of the keyboard sounded to be deliberately off tune. Although the lively organ music matches the dance of the animals, it has an overwhelming hint of being somewhat macabre and frightening. And why do most of the children on the ride scream and cry while the animals go round and round?

The park manager approaches Gertrude who dances from side to side, swaying her long strands of gray hair along her back while playing the keyboard. Perhaps she isn't hitting the right keys. "Gertrude?" the manager calls out. "Can't you adjust the pitch or hit the sharper keys, not so many flat tones? I think the music is scaring the children."

Gertrude turns her face to present a plastered smile with her red, glassy eyes. Employees have often accused the old immigrant woman of drinking on the job. Why else would she be so weird and lively while operating the carousel all day long?

Speaking only broken English with a heavy accent, she often referred to herself in the third person. "Gertrude think the music is fine. You like, yah?" Then she cackles, nearly sounding like a witch. All the while, the children cry in terror while going round and round on that dreaded carousel. Even the parents exhibit an irrational terror of the ride.

Nothing, outside of the peculiar music, can be identified as disturbing on Gertrude's carousel. But if management would care to take a closer look, they might notice the hellish world being reflected in the carousel's center mirror. They would see the hideous animals that aggressively bite the children and parents with their large, sharp teeth. The animals stand on their hind legs and then pounce their front hoofs on the guests, nearly crushing them. The lions swipe their enormous paws across the bloody chests and backs of unfortunate riders. Camels rip the hair out of children's heads with their nasty mouths. Dragons cock their evil, serpent heads back and then force rage-full flames into the faces of people who soon find themselves to be cooked alive.

Round and round the terrifying carousel goes while Gertrude cackles and plays her morbid music. Now that’s the sort of carousel I want to ride! :-)

Fire in the Sky: the real story

Hello All:

It's video Saturday, and we share a detailed summary of the 1975 Travis Walton alien abduction. Many are familiar with the story and have seen the movie. And yet, according to Travis Walton in a radio interview, his experience was very much different from what was portrayed in the movie. 

My take: I think the spacecraft may have been preparing for launch when Travis got too close and was seriously injured by the energy required for takeoff. Realizing that a terrible accident had occurred, the people aboard brought him inside to help him heal and recover.

I'll let you decide in today's video.

The Blue Bird of Happiness

 Hello All:

At home I have a comfy chair with side table that might serve as some sort of personal religious shrine. On the table is the Bible with some religious books; my rosary, a statue of St. Joseph and a small painting of St. Michael the Archangel. 

Recently, I discovered my wife's glass sculpture of the Blue Bird of Happiness sitting on my table. She found it in one of the boxes from our move to Arizona a couple of years ago. And of course this personal shrine is the perfect place for blue bird!

That's when I remembered that I've written about this Blue Bird of Happiness throughout the years on the blog. I pull out a classic writing from over ten years ago and feature it for today's writing.

The Blue Bird of Happiness

As shown in the picture, the Bluebird of Happiness is simply a glass sculpted bluebird. Originally created in 1980 by a glass craftsman, Leo Ward; the trademarked Bluebird of Happiness is currently manufactured by Terra Studios.

The Bluebird of Happiness first appeared in literature in an early 1900s play by Maurice Maeterlinck titled, L'Oiseau Bleu. In the play, two children are instructed by a fairy to set out on a journey in search for the Bluebird of Happiness. The journey is very interesting in that they visit places such as the Land of Memory, the Palace of Night, and the Kingdom of the Future. But the journey turns out to be a failure as the two children never actually find the Blue Bird of Happiness. It isn't until they return home that they discover the bird to be in their birdcage the whole time. The moral of the story: one doesn't need to travel far to find true happiness. Oh, but the moral takes on a double whammy as the children give the bluebird to a friend who had been sick. Somehow the bluebird escapes and flies away! This event symbolizes our realization that treasures are found in the journey of life along with extending random acts of kindness; but never reaching the destination.

The bluebird has been decorated with mystical powers for many centuries. Those who carry some statue, a painting or even have a bluebird tattooed on themselves are blessed with good luck, victory and triumph. The bluebird symbolizes springtime, new beginnings, joy, and love. And now this wonderful bluebird is available in the form of a small glass sculpture.

It was my wife who originally received the Bluebird of Happiness as a gift. I wasn't fully aware of the Bluebird of Happiness until a couple years into marriage. You can carry it with you as a good luck object which rarely fails. I've taken the Bluebird of Happiness with me during job interviews. My kids have used it during big tests at school. Once I accompanied my violin-playing daughter to an orchestra audition. I stood outside the door with the Bluebird of Happiness sitting in the palm of my hand. Both of us watched through the small, glass window as my daughter executed, flawlessly, in front of the judges.  And of course I carried the bluebird down the hallway with such reverence. It remained sitting in the palm of my hand as-if it were alive. I'm sure those standing nearby found my behavior unusual.

Some people might not believe in the power of the Bluebird of Happiness. But that's just how people are nowadays. Many people no longer believe in things. People are told to be rational and avoid any beliefs in omens, signs, dreams or sacred items. And when it comes to God and religion, there seems to be a great push in society to no longer believe. We've come so far as humans, and no longer need the "invention of God" or things we do not understand to give us a sense of hope or power. Such a shame; once upon a time our universe was so vast and mysterious. We sought ways to understand and tap into the unexplainable--understand the mind of God. Now we've limited ourselves to understanding our favorite professional athletes, and worshiping their individualized winner's attitudes while denying any sort of beauty and mystery in the surrounding, exterior universe.

Halloween is roughly 6 weeks away; a time when the veil between this world and the other is at its thinnest; a time when we can truly recognize that there are realities in our world that cannot be explained through science or the rational mind. If you are a regular visitor of the blog and a fan of my writings, then surely you believe this. We need to serve as opposition to the social push of no longer believing in the mysterious and unexplained. 

Shoshone National Forest Spirit Castles

Hello All:

It's Podcast Thursday and we examine the rugged topography of the Shoshone National Forest as an architectural marvel composed of mystical fortresses and monuments built by a forgotten civilization. It's very possible that the mountains are actually sentient spirits capable of camouflaging their true, majestic forms to avoid detection by human observers. By blending physical observations with supernatural symbolism, such as celestial numerology, we redefine the natural wilderness as a sacred, hidden realm haunted by powerful ancient entities.

Listen to Shoshone National Forest Spirit Castles

Prehistoric Man is Introduced to Little Darling Snack Cakes

Hello All:

Go back to Monday of this week and we have our friend, Steve, who traveled to medieval times to offer up Little Darling snack cakes to the king in exchange for silver coins. Well, my daughter challenged me to write a sequel of Steve venturing to prehistoric times to offer up more of these snack cakes to the residents.

And just how would that work?

Well, sugar and refined carbohydrates act on the brain in ways remarkably similar to addictive substances. When consumed, hyper-palatable foods trigger a surge of dopamine in the brain's reward centers. In modern society, we are accustomed to this chemical rush, but to an early hominid whose diet consisted entirely of lean game, roots, and bitter wild berries, a sudden blast of concentrated sugar would represent an absolute sensory overload.

From an evolutionary standpoint, introducing ultra-processed food to prehistoric humans isn't just a culinary shock—it would completely alter their behavioral dynamics, social hierarchies, and symbolic culture in a single afternoon.

Oh, I also generated an image of what this Little Darling would look like on the box. You are certainly familiar with Little Debbie. Well, we can't write stories about their product. But we can create a fictional competitor. I include this image as the cover image for today's story.

Prehistoric Man is Introduced to Little Darling Snack Cakes

Steve stood on a ridge overlooking a sun-drenched valley, his fingers resting lightly on the temporal actuator strapped to his wrist. Down below, sitting around a smoldering pit of ash, was a band of early hominids. Clad in raw animal hides, they were gnawing brutally on the uncooked marrow bones of a small steppe deer, occasionally grunting or threatening to strike one another with heavy river stones over the choice cuts.

Steve smiled, feeling a thrill of mischievous curiosity. On his last temporal leap, he had terrorized a medieval court, but this experiment promised to be far more primitive. He unslung a canvas duffel bag packed with two dozen boxes of "Little Darlings" pastry treats. He had deliberately left the hexagonal-shaped Honey Cakes at home, reasoning that such geometric perfection might break their fragile, ancient minds. Instead, he brought dense chocolate squares and foil-wrapped Swiss Rolls.

He adjusted his windbreaker and walked down the dusty slope.

The moment Steve cleared the brush, the band froze. Grunts turned into low, defensive snarls. Two tall males stepped forward, brandishing thick oak clubs with jagged knot-heads. To them, Steve was a creature from another realm—tall, hairless, dressed in neon-red synthetic fabric that practically screamed danger.

Steve held up his hands, unzipped the duffel, and pulled out a chocolate square. Slowly, under the watchful, terrified eyes of the tribe, he peeled back the plastic wrapping and took a deliberate bite. He exaggerated his chewing, letting out a satisfied sign.

The tension shifted. Fear gave way to primal curiosity.

A younger female cautiously shuffled forward, her nostrils flaring as the wind carried the heavy scent of cocoa and vanillin toward her. Steve reached into the bag, unwrapped another square, and gently extended his arm. The female snatched it, sniffed it aggressively, poked the soft sponge with a dirty fingernail, and then mashed the entire cake into her mouth.

Her eyes went wide. Her entire body stiffened as the hyper-concentrated dose of high-fructose corn syrup tore through her nervous system. She let out a high-pitched shriek of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Within seconds, the rest of the tribe swarmed forward. They abandoned their marrow bones and dove into the duffel bag, tearing through cardboard and plastic with yellowed teeth. The scene devolved into chaotic pandemonium—hominids screaming, rolling in the dirt, and smearing chocolate across their faces in a frantic feeding frenzy that looked alarmingly like the apes encountering the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Steve pressed the button on his wrist and vanished back to the present, chuckling to himself. "Well, that was fun."

Three weeks later, Steve returned. This time, he brought a commercial van’s worth—over two hundred boxes stacked into a hand-cart.

When the temporal haze cleared, Steve found himself in the middle of a transformed landscape. The campsite was now a sprawling settlement, and the culture had undergone an abrupt, terrifying evolution.

Several tribal elders stepped out from a stone overhang. Woven around their necks were crude necklaces made from the torn cardboard faces of the "Little Darlings" mascot—her smiling, freckled portrait now serving as a holy talisman. On the flat face of a nearby sandstone cliff, the tribe had painted crude red-ochre murals depicting dark, solid squares descended from the sky.

When Steve appeared, the entire village dropped to their knees, bowing toward him as a god. But the peace was short-lived.

The arrival of two hundred more boxes immediately triggered a societal collapse. Previously, only twenty elite hunters possessed the sacred mascot medallions. Now, with hundreds of boxes pouring into the camp, nearly every member of the tribe claimed the divine right to wear the smiling girl's face.

An all-out war erupted before Steve’s eyes. Neighboring tribes rushed over the ridge, drawn by the scent of sugar. The air filled with guttural war cries as warriors tore into the Little Darlings cakes, wolfing down the sugar to fuel a manic, adrenaline-fueled strength before lunging into combat. Clubs slammed into shields; dust filled the air as factions fought over the right to hold the sacred artwork of the squares—and the newly introduced hexagon treats.

Steve leaned against a boulder, watching the chaotic battle unfold with a smirk. "Look at them," he muttered. "All for a bit of processed sugar."

His amusement ended instantly when a shadow fell over him.

A massive warrior, his face painted with chocolate residue and blood, stepped out from behind the boulder. In his hand was a heavy, stone-weighted wooden club. The warrior didn't bow; his eyes were fixed greedily on the temporal device on Steve's wrist.

He swung the club with terrifying force.

Steve ducked, but the heavy oak weapon clipped his left shoulder with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded through his upper body. He stumbled to the dirt, the actuator slipping out of his grip and tumbling into the grass.

The warrior raised the club for a killing blow. Operating purely on instinct, Steve reached out with his good arm, grabbed the base of the ancient weapon, and planted his boot firmly into the caveman's chest. With a furious shove, he sent the warrior sprawling backward into the dirt, wrenching the heavy club from his grip.

Steve lunged for his actuator, slammed his thumb onto the return switch, and pulled the ancient club tightly against his chest.

POP.

Steve collapsed onto his living room rug in a cold sweat, clutching his throbbing shoulder and breathing heavily. Next to him lay the rough-hewn, blood-stained prehistoric club.

Six months later, Steve sat on his sofa, his shoulder fully healed, sipping coffee while the morning news played in the background. Suddenly, a breaking news segment caught his attention. A world-renowned archaeologist was standing in front of an excavation site in Southern Europe, holding up a camera.

"Archaeologists today are baffled by a series of extraordinary discoveries at a Upper Paleolithic site," the reporter announced. "Excavators have uncovered dozens of fossilized cardboard fragments bearing the vibrant image of a mid-century cartoon girl—matching the modern logo of the Little Darlings snack brand."

The screen shifted to show a high-resolution photograph of a cave wall.

"Even more perplexing," the reporter continued, "are the cave paintings dating back thirty thousand years. Primitive artists drew detailed geometric squares and precise hexagons, worshipping what appears to be a sugary confectionery. Scholars are left with far more questions than answers as to how these modern artifacts ended up buried in deep prehistoric strata..."

Steve took a slow sip of his coffee, leaned back against the cushions, and smiled quietly at the TV.