Bound to the One You Love. "A Cartoon Story." by John Pirillo. Love between a cartoon and a human? Mmmmm!
She first realized she was bound to the one she loved when she had to come to his rescue against the Sea Gnats. They were an obscure life form found only in the lowest dimensions of her world. They obscured people's view of them, much like the legendary Sirens of Johnnie's world. They lured them into their hives, and then ate them.
In their less fettered forms, they resembled giant gnats, with multiple eyes, legs and legs. They had no hands, except as illusions. They were mainly eating machine and cutting machine. Mouths to eat their victims and legs to slash them to pieces.
Johnnie had made the mistake of using his newfound powers to touch one of the older Golden Age Magazine covers in the antique book store they had been looking through for information about zombies. Why zombies? Because that was one of the few creatures that didn't need an invite to enter Johnnie's world. Too many people believed in them and thus a portal was always open for them to charge onto Earth and deal their kind of death and destruction.
The newspapers always reported them as members of cults, or serial killers. Cults reported them as demons that had been summoned by them. But the average person just got attacked and assimilated into their hordes, which had been growing by leaps and bounds since she had entered Johnnie's world.
"Hey Glow!" Johnnie slung at her.
She looked up from the book in her lap. She sat in the dark. She didn't need the light next to her, because her body threw off enough light for a hundred light bulbs when she allowed it. She squinted at him. Her eyes were tired.
"Penny for your thoughts." He told her with a smile, slipping next to her on the couch, and putting an arm around her shoulders. She snuggled into him and told him what she was thinking.
"I can't always come to your rescue."
He turned around, letting go. She felt immediately abandoned, but said nothing.
He looked at her face. "Why would you have to? I can take care of myself."
"But what if one day you don't have a comic book on you, or one that doesn't allow you to become what's needed."
"Don't you believe in fate?"
"Yes. I do. The one we make for ourselves through our freewill."
He sighed, and then slipped further away from her.
"Okay. So I don't. Then I deal with it like I always do."
He got up. She could tell he was disgusted with the turn of her conversation. But she wouldn't let go of it. She was too worried. "You could die." She blurted out.
He stopped and looked at her sadly. "Everyone dies."
"But not the way you might."
He nodded, but went outside anyway, shutting the door behind him.
She shut her eyes, thinking why she had allowed herself to become so drawn to this human. He was still a child in so many ways. He didn't even pick up his socks when he threw them on the floor. Then she grinned. Neither did she, but then, she never wore them.
The front door banged open and Johnnie ran inside. "Get ready!"
She jumped up in alarm.
He grabbed her and swung her up into the air, laughing. "Dinner!"
They took the metro downtown to the Denny's he loved. Chicken sandwiches, thick shakes and curly fries.
"Fries. They're called fries. Curly fries."
"They taste sooooo good."
"It's the salt."
"Yeah. They bury them in salt."
She frowned. He laughed and squeezed her right hand.
"Not literally, it's just that these guys have got the French fry thing down. Give the people whatever they want, but make sure it's got lots of salt or sugar, or both on it, then they'll eat anything and love it."
"That's dishonest." She said, putting her curly fry down.
"But doesn't it make you mad?"
"Sure it does, but it sure tastes good." He said, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.
She slapped him across his left arm with her handbag.
"Okay." He set down his next handful of fries and faced her. "It's like this. I can't change the world. I'm only one person."
"You can change it one fry at a time."
"Don't eat them."
"You've got to be kidding!"
"I'm not. Stop eating them. At least one of you won't be contributing to the lies."
"But then I'd be lying to myself."
"Because I do like them...salt and sugar and all."
With those words he shoved the rest of the curly fries into his mouth.
Across from them at the counter a tall man turned around. It had a handful of fingers in its clasp and shoved them into its mouth. "You should listen to him." The zombie said with a foul grin. "They do taste good. Salt and sugar and all."
Cartoon slammed from her booth and began hammering the man with her handbag.
Johnnie rushed over and stopped her.
The man rubbed his head and got up from his stool as an alarmed waitress grabbed a phone and began to dial.
"Hey! It's Halloween. Can't you take a joke, lady?"
He marched out of Denny's, his face red with anger.
She turned to face Johnnie. He was laughing.
Then she began hitting him with her handbag.
What was a Cartoon to do with such a rascally human being like him? She hit him again.
Johnnie touched the comic book in his back pocket and his form changed into that of an angel. She gasped and fell back. He gave her an angelic look. The waitress gasped and dropped her phone. The other customers began crossing themselves.
"I'm such an angel." He said. "You really hurt my feelings."
"Ohhhh. I hate you, Johnnie!" Cartoon spouted, and then ran into his arms and they kissed.
And that's what it's like to be bound to the one you love, she thought again as she held him close, savoring his breath and his touch. You just love them no matter what...and...her thoughts grew wicked for a moment...gets ready to clobber them when they get off the train tracks.
But she didn't tell him what she was thinking as he lifted her into his arms, stepped out of Denny's, and then flapped into the air and flew her home. After all, he was her Johnnie Angel. For a time.
It's not so funny when it's happening to you. Levels a grand science fiction ride to other worlds! Now at Amazon!
Book Trailer. Journey to the Center of the Earth. A world waits in anguish for a Special Forces Team to stop the perpetrators of the most hideous crime of all time.
Journey to the Center of the Earth
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The world has almost been destroyed by the use of Dark Matter.
Will the Special Forces reach the enemy in time to stop the next attack?
It's Saturday Night Live in outer space as four college grads seize the moment and launch an ancient pyramid that is secretly a spaceship from Atlantis buried for tens of thousands of years.
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Peripheral. The Worlds of If. The Fractal Universe. By John Pirillo. "Watch out for those little fellows!"
The Worlds of If
The Fractal Universe
By John Pirillo
Most organizations, whether large or small, have some kind of orderliness to them; even it's only to the extent of having an answering service with a directory of the four or so names in the business...or even two! What makes an organization unique and awesome in many ways is neither the size, nor the orderliness of it, but its status in the larger scheme of things.
Well, to me, that is not being a judge, a cook, a dress maker, a policeman, or a soldier. It is being part of something so vast, so indefinable that to even try to put words to it lessens it and consequently lessens you.
I am, of course, referring to the Fractal Universe.
The Worlds of If as I prefer to call the conjunctive and ever expanding and colliding universes of this vast creation are so remarkably stand alone pure and pristine that they make our own Creation and universe seem paltry by comparison.
This is not to say that God's done a so-so job on our trillions of worlds, only that that Being, whether you want to call it a Him, a Her, or something else suitable like Creator, or Master of Light or whatever, just never hung up his celestial hat once he had finished defining our own motley collection of large orbs and smaller planets. He hadn't just slung an almost infinite amount of comets and asteroids to intersect our nearly infinite plane of beingness, but had gone on to further define it on a much smaller scale, of even vaster proportions.
Imagine if you will if you could somehow perceive all the atoms and electron, neutrons, protons, and infinitely smaller particles within the tip of your index finger. What would you really see? Would you see blood, bone, and muscle or would you find instead a thriving, ever expanding universe of orderly particles...sub universes that shook hands and agreed to take on a certain form...in this instance our index finger tip.
But let's take this supposition even further. What if light itself, or perhaps what we perceive as light, like fractals; what if they were also universes as well, and not just a handful, but an infinite, colliding, conjunctive and ever connected arc of ever contracting and expanding collections of matter so fine and so delicate that even our electronic microscopes would have a hard time grasping them?
Imagine if you will that infinite void above us, but then take your eyes inward to another infinite void that existed within our defined mathematics. Our sciences. Our imagination! There. Now I've said it. Imagine. Imagination. The next and possibly the only true universe of existence, which includes all things material and immaterial. Physical and imaginary.
I know. It's a lot to grasp. But what if?
"So sometimes one plus one equals more than one." I explained to the rapt faces in front of me.
Actually, they weren't...rapt. Jimmy was picking his nose. Evelyn was texting on her phone. Herman was kicking the back of Jane's chair. Ruben was making snarky remarks about me to his friend across the aisle and Jake was just dulling out, his eyes blank...probably just like his mind. The bulk of the kids were good kids, but some of them were born seriously lacking imagination and moral conscience. I don't say that lightly, because I'd had the pleasure...lightly spoken...of meeting their parents and the kids with the best parents often times had the best chance of succeeding. The kids with the not at home parents, divided families, or just plain ignorant families...well, they had an uphill battle.
I took it all in stride, striving to put all of them on equal footing and usually failing as most teachers do. Because...minus political correctness...the reality is that not all kids are created equal and not all kids will be a success...of any kind. Their genetic makeup, their imagination, their will to live and prosper just isn't there.
Now, you can go after me for saying that, but you'd be ignoring the Seventh Law of Thermodynamics...which, incidentally, I myself invented...that consciousness seeks its own level. I don't believe that people are born equal...unless you take into account their first years of helplessness and dependence upon the big guys...parents. No kids are born fully formed in their brains with all the ifs, maybes, yes and no's already organized and ready to fire upon birth. What they did with that mass of colliding impulses we call free will.
Unfortunately, free will is not all it's knocked out to be. Free will is impacted by genetics, where you are born, what choices you have as a child, etc...In other words...your karma.
I'm not going to go into the Eighth Law of Thermodynamics...which a few men like Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed and Krishna did much better jobs of explaining. Let me just say that earth is a training planet. For me. For you. For everybody. And if you think you can ever sneak out of classes and ditch school, you're playing the fool to yourself. The whole freaking world is a school.
Now that I've had my rant, let's go on.
"Herman, what's a fractal?"
"Uhhh." He answered, his eyes on his neighbor, his hand under his table motioning for help. His neighbor Josh Tranks shook his head, his own mind just as blank at that moment.
I immediately saved his honor by scrawling in my own stunted chicken scratching handwriting the formula for a Mandelbrot fractal. "Anyone recognize this?"
Heidi jumped up. Not really. Yawned, and then raised her hand. "Mandel butt's equation."
"Mandelbrot, Heidi. Mandelbrot."
"Yeah. Whatever." She replied, back to yawning again.
I eyed her a moment thoughtfully, then turned to the other kids. High school sucks for most kids because it wakes them up early, rushes them from class to class, never gives them enough time to absorb anything before whisking them on to more information. In the fifteen years I had been teaching I'd seen the level of awareness in students slowly sink as they faced a morass of repetitive tests and antiquated dating of norms that even a caveman would snort at.
In other words school had become the equivalent of prison to most kids. Myself included. By the way, my name is Chesterton K. I'm a super nerd. I wear Star Wars tennies, extra long hair with blue or red sparkles sometimes, a Yoda t-shirt on Fridays and I rarely if ever sleep. Not because I don't want to, I just have a full life. Being a teacher was not something I was born to a calling to fulfill, rather a way for me to insinuate myself into the brains of kids and hopefully spark some imagination bombs in them so that in the future they would wake up on this great big lesson planet and make something better of it...and more importantly...themselves.
"Good answer, Heidi." I pointed out and they swiftly drew a very odd looking design on the board with a combination of dry markers of red, green, orange, blue and yellow. When I was done I had a reasonable fact simile of a Mandelbrot fractal.
Heidi had stopped yawning. "Can I do that?"
I nodded. Gave her the markers and stood back with bated breath.
She began drawing something that quickly formed into Mario from the Mario Brothers games. The whole class broke into laughter.
The bell rang.
She dumped the markers onto my desk, and then hurried out with the rest of the students. Mark, a somewhat slow student, but with a great big heart was the last to leave. He put an apple on my desk, gave me a shy smile and exited. It was then I noticed Patti standing there with crossed arms and a huge smile.
"Reminds me of the Willy Wonk and the Chocolate Factory movie where Mister Wonka is given the stolen candy and he treasures it."
"Yeah. Except in the movie he gets to call the shots. I don't. I'm just a miserable, underpaid, overworked, underappreciated teacher struggling to..."
She shut my mouth. With a kiss.
Patti's my girlfriend. My better half and the part that keeps my feet on the ground, at least when she's not kissing me, which at that point threatens to launch me into orbit.
I settled down and she shoved the door closed lest kids see us in each other's arms. It was the end of the day.
"So how did your day go?" She asked, as if she didn't already know.
"Mostly like the others. Period One. Period Two. Period Thre...." She cut off my list with another kiss, and then pulled back.
"I'm surprised you're not off to wonderland again."
I gave her a shrewd look. Ever since I had fractalized with her, she'd been bugging me to do it again, but I worried about her ability to handle it. She didn't have the genetic makeup I did. She needed someone to hold her hand, to keep her safe. I wasn't sure I could always do that. The Fractal Universe is huge and has many surprises.
Neutrally I responded. "Still working off my last trip there."
She grinned. "Liar, liar."
"I know, my blue hairs on fire."
"Speaking of which." She cut in.
I gave her a serious look. She had just given me a whopper of a speaking of which tone that brought all my alarms alert and ringing. "What do you mean?"
She brushed my hair.
The darn school board was after teachers again. As if we didn't have enough to do and think about, they kept finding ways to make our lives more miserable. Here...another stack of tests to give the kids that doesn't mean a damned thing. Here...another set of rules you must not break because it won't be politically correct to call a small person a small person because they might feel...well, small. I was sick of it. If I wasn't already independently wealthy, I'd quit my job and become a bum on a beach in Hawaii.
You might ask why Hawaii...or what rich has to do with it...and I'd probably ignore you. None of your business. But I'll answer this time. Because I care. I really do. Can I help it if God shot me into this world with twelve cylinders when most barely can use one or two of theirs? Sometimes I wondered how Einstein handled it during his life, and then I realized how. Humor and humble. Not political correctness and shutting up. Humor and humble. True genius does not need to stick its hand up and wave it all over the place. It just is and does. Is and does.
"When's the meeting?"
"That's tonight!"I almost screamed in alarm.
"I'm sorry. I knew what your response would be..."
"So you decided to cut my legs out from under me just before it happened?"
"Thanks!" I told her and gave her an extra big hug and kiss.
I let her go and she almost dropped.
She opened her eyes. "When you kiss me like that I am suddenly not in my body, but floating in some strange place...some..."
She shook her head. "Be there, okay?"
I sighed. "Okay. But I won't promise I won't buy all the schools and fire the board. I can do that you know."
She smiled sadly. "I know." Then she exited.
Sad. I'd made her sad. Sometimes my humor imploded in my face.
I really could buy all the schools and fire the school board. I think that sometimes they wanted me to do that so they wouldn't actually have to do something right by the students and teachers for once, instead of sucking up to the politicians and do-gooders who lived on the edge of political correctness. Hoping that I would give them relief. No way was that going to happen. They'd made their bed. Let them learn how to sleep in it.
I straightened up my desk, and then instead of exiting the room, I exited the world.
I sidestepped from the desk into a brooding flow of colored lights that swirled in infinite patterns of subdued grays and golds. It was awesome.
Of all the fractal worlds of the Fractal Universe I visit, the fractal flame ones are the best. The very best. I call them worlds and that would be a loose term. As in actuality each one of them is like a universe onto itself, but so much more complex than our own. Each of these visits reminded me to be humble and kept me humble. Because no matter how smart I thought and knew I was, there was someone who encompassed all of Reality who was way far smarter.
I smiled upwards. Which is silly, because that Being is everywhere and you could as easily smile at yourself in the mirror, or a plant, a dog, or a star and it would still be expressed and received in the same way.
I sat on the edge of a roaring fractal river. Its tiny repeating stars flowed and overflowed each other as they rushed along banks of green, lithe sprouts of fractal plants topped by blossoms of gold fractal flower petals. I never got tired of this place. It refreshed me and took a load off my mind when I had to face the powers that be.
"Happening again, huh?" The Tall Man said as he sat down beside me.
"You really got to stop horning in on my fantasies." I told him, ignoring him.
He laughed. "Fat chance."
We both sat there silently a long time watching the stars rush along the river bed made of Mandelbrot patterns and Julian extrusions. Finally, I sat up and eyed him.
He's tall. Like me, but a bit thicker in the body. I could probably outrun him, but he could probably throw me down in a wrestling match...if I played fair that is. "You know?"
"Call me Santa."
"Santa. You know?"
He sighed. Took a hard look at me. "You know he's behind it, don't you?"
"I thought he was taken into the deepest, darkest dungeon and chained to a wall."
The Tall man laughed. "Sounds a little too predictable, don't you think?"
I sighed. "So life sucks still."
"And then some. He's out."
"What!" I jumped to my feet.
He rose and put hands on my shoulders. "Don't go doing something stupid, Chesterton, we'll handle it."
"Like you're handling tonight's meeting?" I asked.
"No, like you're handling it. That's your territory. Not mine."
"So what good is it to work for you, if just any goon with delusions of grandeur can walk up and crucify me?"
He gave me a serious look. "Speaking of delusions of grandeur."
I sighed. "Okay. Okay. I get it. Lay low. Play fair and carry a big stick."
"A really big stick." He advised, and then side stepped from my reality back to his.
Then a thought occured to me. How did he just do that?
I thought I was the only one with the ability to fractalize and he'd just not only horned in on my fantasy world, but had the nerve to do it right in front of my face and then vanish again.
I stood before the School Board, shoving my pink speckled black hair out of my eyes. I didn't have to do that. I was just rubbing it in. On them!
The Director shuffled some paperwork in his hands, and then cleared his throats. He was an older man in his seventies and I suspected he was the one in the back pocket of the Senator. So I paid no attention to the four women on the right or the four men on the left. Maybe I should have. Maybe not.
"Mister K. That is your last name, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir. Unless someone changed it without informing me."
He looked up sharply. "Was that a yes then?"
I sighed inwardly. He was going to try and hard ball me. I could read it in his beady little eyes. "Yes."
"Very well." He shuffled the paperwork again, and then gently set it down.
I don't trust people who shuffle paperwork and then put it down gently. War signs. Alarm bells. Danger, Will Robinson!
He put his chin on the cup of his palms then eyed me further. "It has come to our attention that your manner of dress..."
I tugged at my Yoda shirt and shuffled my Star Wars tennies.
"...That your way of expressing yourself..."
I thought of expressing myself then, but I held it back. But the tide was rushing in. Look out if it comes all the way.
"...That your use of abstract sciences to justify your comments..."
I held both hands up. "Hold on there, partner!"
He gave me a shocked look. "What?"
I lowered my hands. "They're only abstract because no one understands them yet. And because I'm the one who founded them, discovered them, and have implemented them."
He cleared his throat and gave his committee a sweeping glance, looking for support. Their faces were set in stone. No one was giving anything away for free this night. Finally, the cleared his throat again, took a sip of a bottle of Perrier, then set it down.
"I'm not trying to insult you, Mister K, just clarify things."
"I think it's pretty clear what you're trying to do, sir." I replied.
"And what is that exactly?" He asked, a sly look on his lips.
"Ask Senator Murphy. I'm sure he can explain everything."
He jumped from his chair, his face red as a beet. "Are you saying I'm on the take?"
I leaned closer, my face stern as a killer ape. "You sir, are saying it. Not I!"
He looked around and no one would look him in the eyes. He sat back down.
"I resent your intimation."
"And you sir, I resent being the Director of a function to which you have no qualifications."
"I was elected..."
"No sir, you were appointed. No one in their right mind would have elected you."
He jumped up again.
I gave him a stone cold smile. "Really. You really want to go that route?"
He stood there, steaming in his shoes so much I could actually see smoke shimmering about him. I must be getting pretty good at pissing people off.
"I do and I have. This meeting is over."
He headed for the open doors to the room. It slammed shut. He jumped back, and then went forward again. He grabbed the knob and yanked. The door remained firm.
I looked to the others in the room. "No need for you to be bothered by our little discussion."
I sidestepped them into the next fractal world, then back outside the school building, where I had planted Patti so she could calm them down and get them on their cutesy little ways.
When they vanished the Director's face became filled with fear.
"As I was saying." I corrected him. "Do you really want to go that way?"
"I..." He stuttered.
I thumped his chest with my right forefinger. It made a hollow sound. I thumped it again just for the fun of it. Before he got the wrong idea, I stepped back. "I'm giving you two choices, sir. One is to leave this building, resign and never come back to this neck of the woods again."
He stood there, anger again beginning to color his face. "And the second choice?"
I sidestepped with him into one of the more chaotic fractal universes I had found. It was infested with spring spirals that would coil around one's body and then explode into hundreds more, making you itch like crazy. I had known in advance I would be facing it, and so had put on a fractal ointment to repel the friendly little buggers.
He screamed as they wrapped around him, exploding and itching like crazy. His eyes went as large as saucers and he turned to me and gripped my arms. "What have you done?"
"Et Tu, Brutus?" I reminded him.
He backed off.
I sidestepped him back into the meeting room.
He slumped back down into his chair and looked up at me. A couple buggers still clung to his right arm. They were poised to explode, watching for a signal from me. He knew it, even if he didn't understand it.
"Well?" I asked. "What now?"
Senator Murphy sat in the dark room he had rented for the special occasion of humiliating Chesterton K. A knock. "Enter."
The Director entered. He sat down opposite the Senator.
"Well, is it done?"
"Yes." The Director said, and then raised his right arm.
Senator Murphy screamed as the two buggers left on the Director's arm exploded and wrapped all around him. It was going to be a long, long night for him before he got back to normal again.
Audio Book. Empire and Domain. A Sherlock Holmes Tale. A Baker Street Universe Adventure. "Whisper if you dare!"
Golden Age Movie Serial. The Crimson Ghost. Chapter 4: The Laughing Skull. Who who laughs last is not dead.
A Burst of Light