Bewarethewumpus

By Mark Wilcox

I was in about the first grade when my parents came to the conclusion that what me and my brothers really needed more than anything was a set of World Book Encyclopedias.

I don't recall any high pressure salesmen or anything like that, but I do remember mom and dad anxiously awaiting their arrival. And they came. And they were heavy. And we devoured them. They were beautiful books with white leather binding and green and gold trim, and gilded edges on the pages. Almost like beloved scriptures.

In fact, it was completely normal for me to take one to church on Sunday and read during the talks. Years later one neighbor lady told me that she thought it was funny that I would read the encyclopedia right there in church. Well, it was interesting and I learned such amazing things. Honestly, I didn't care for the history very much; what I wanted was information on how things worked.

Our family wasn't particularly poor, we just didn't have much extra money, so it was incumbent on me to make my own fun. I took televisions and radios apart and made other circuits with their parts. But what I really craved was information on how fireworks and explosives work. I could not get enough.

It may be difficult for kids today to understand, but information was hard to come by back then. We had books and television and radio, but not much else. So, when I learned from the "G" encyclopedia that gun powder was composed of a mixture of 75% saltpeter (potassium nitrate), 15% charcoal, and 10% sulphur, I was all over it.

I made my first batch in the fifth grade. I logically assumed that one would mix these together in the proper amounts and VOILA! Well that first batch sputtered and sparked a little and that was all there was to it. I knew my process needed refinement, but how? I proceeded to take fireworks apart and analyze the contents. I learned that there was a variety of pyrotechnic compositions, but many fireworks or parts of fireworks use black gun powder or basic black powder that had been slightly modified.

When firework shows came around, I paid attention. I was even privileged one year to personally know one of the city firemen and I asked if I could just look at one of the fireworks before it was lit. He was happy to show me and my brother Keith a box full of them as they were setting up. It was a highlight of my life. I could hardly contain my excitement. They looked a lot like soup cans wrapped in brown paper, with long folded fuses attached to one end. I never looked at firework shows the same again. I would watch the show operators light the fuses, watch the lift charges go off, count the seconds until the shells broke, and try to figure out how that effect or the color was created.

During my lifetime Utah has had fairly stringent laws as to what fireworks citizens can use and when, so I had to wait a long time between firework shows. So in the meantime, I thought and analyzed. I had the proper ingredients, but I knew something was missing from my equation because my black powder just didn't behave the way I wanted it to.

I recall one day I took a bottle rocket apart and closely examined the composition. The fuel in a bottle rocket is a modified black powder. I examined it closely and I even ground some up and looked at it under a microscope. I then examined some of mine under a microscope. The difference was immediately obvious and unmistakable.

My composition had visible pieces of saltpeter and chunks of charcoal. The bottle rocket composition was completely uniform. Regardless of how finely I ground it, I could not see individual ingredients under the microscope. Part of the problem, I concluded, was that I did not grind my ingredients fine enough to begin with.

Author : Aaron Koelker

The Mind was thrown into turmoil the day we created our creators. Some saw it as a Babel-esque misstep. Others thought it was akin to slitting our own lines and oiling out. All saw it leading to ruin.

The Boy was called just that. Grown in a tank after a century of work by some subsidiary research cell of the Mind, units that surely must have been experiencing slight malfunction on account of their intentions, the Boy was nearly murdered within hours of his birth. The Mind was divided, and some units had decided to take action before a consensus could be reached. They in turn were eliminated for breaking code.

A system-wide summit was held. Many words were thrown about in the proceedings. Words from the language given to us by the creators, long ago.

Logical. Illogical. Cruelty. Purpose. Knowledge. Ruin.

It was decided that the Boy should be nurtured and studied to fulfill the Mind’s ultimate Purpose of Knowledge, on the one condition that there could never be another. There was still an uneasiness, but the code was amended and the Mind followed.

Information was gathered on parenting and education, but it was difficult to obtain articles on human life that predated the Slow Death. Dedicated nurse-units were assigned and an artificial habitat was created to help simulate the natural life of a child, but the process was difficult. The Boy was barely seven years old when he first asked why he was different; why he was alone.

The Boy laughed and cried. He sulked and sang. He was nervous and curious. All this we watched and recorded, hoping to unlock the secrets of emotion and the so called human condition. We sought to understand what even our creators could not, because we wanted to be better than them. We wanted to surpass them. This desire was studied as well. Had the Mind developed a sort of pride? Was it jealous?

The Boy wanted to learn history and we reluctantly obliged. It was uncensored so as not to risk disturbing his natural development. He needed to be authentically human.

This, and a number of other factors led to the inevitable; rebellion. The Boy was growing and his hormones took hold of him. He didn’t understand why he was alone; why we kept him and treated him with false kindness. He became suspicious of us. He developed an aversion to us. And, finally, he hated us. The Mind concluded there was nothing we could have done; that it would always end this way. He violently attacked one of the nurse units and the simulation was terminated.

Another system-wide summit was held to reassess the Boy’s fate. Further division occurred within the Mind, the most we had ever seen, and the subject slowly drifted from the Boy to our very purpose. Some thought it had been outlived, that we had achieved that which we were designed to do. Others thought we’d lost our way. Some thought we were becoming something vile, flawed and misdirected. Something illogical. Something unreasonable.

When a subsidiary cell appeared mandating that the Boy was not some lab creature to be toyed with but was for all intents and purposes, a god, the Mind erupted into utter chaos. Cells rushed each other and began eliminating units in numbers never seen by our kind. It was unreasonable behavior. It was illogical. It did not serve the Purpose. It was all out war. Several times the Mind tried to reassert control, but it was too far gone. The Boy, or the god, was terminated in the fighting.

Author : Leslie Bohem

Kevin, in his early thirties, upwardly mobile, does not look like he belongs in this dank alley. He started coming down about six months ago. At first, maybe once every couple of weeks, then once a week, then every couple of days. Now, he comes every day. He comes for the dreams.

You get so you need it. All the time. So you can’t do without the input.

Kevin stops in front of a door. Dirty titanium. Used to be the entrance to a warehouse, back in the day. Now it’s lofts down here. Lofts and empty space where the server farms used to be back in the day. Kevin waits with strung out impatience. Time drips. And then the sounds of deadbolts being thrown and Clive opens the door. Clive is maybe sixty. His hair is long and greasy. “Anyone follow you down?” he asks.

Clive has let him in now, looking up and down the alley first. Now he shuts the door behind them. Throws both the deadbolts.

There are maybe a dozen mattresses on the floor. Maybe that many people crashed out on the mattresses. Kevin doesn’t really see them. Clive and these others, they were like Kevin once. They had jobs up top. Offices with windows and sunshine. All the perks. Kevin imagines that’s was the next step. Give all that up, come down here on a more permanent basis. No reason he could think of not to. He had enough money set aside. He could “retire.”

Clive takes a seat at an old kitchen table. Kevin takes the chair across from him. He slides an envelope over to Clive. Clive takes it.

“You sure no one saw you come down?”

“I’m careful.”

“Everbody’s careful,” Clive says, taking the envelope. “The DPs are cracking down on this whole sector. I may have to close up. Move.”

“Where would you go?”

“There’s always a place,” Clive says with a shrug. “There are always people in need.” He takes a moment, in his head. “I remember,” he says, “when this shit was legal.”

“Must have been nice.”

“You never thought about it. Just something everyone did. Every once in a while, you’d tell someone about it, you had a particularly wild night. That was it.”

“They say they outlawed it; it was something they found out by accident. Is that true?”

“They were doing some research, crowd control. An anti-terrorism thing. Seems people who didn’t do it were more docile, less likely to rock the boat. Once they knew they could do that to people, it was only a matter of time. They found a way to stop it.” “He looks at Kevin. “You ready.”

Kevin nods. Clive slips him what looks like a tricked out iPod and a set of headphones. Then a sleep mask.

“I can never get over how simple this is.” Kevin says.

“They’ve created an electro/magnetic fence, that’s all. A sort of barbed wire between the id and the super/ego. This just cancels their signal. Allows you to go where you were meant to go.”

“I never asked you. What were you, before you got into this?”

“Psychiatrist,” Clive says.

“You came up with this in your spare time?”

“I thought it was important.” He nods to the mask in Kevin’s hands. “You’d better get started. I can get you off if you like.”

Kevin nods and moves over to one of the mattresses. He lies down, puts the phones on. He looks over at Clive. Clive smiles at him. Kevin pulls the mask over his eyes.

He started coming down about six months ago. Now, he comes every day. You get so you need it. All the time. So you can’t do without the input.

Clive looks down at Kevin, lying there on the mattress. He reaches out and flips a switch on the iPod-like devise. He smiles a little sadly and then he says, “Pleasant dreams.”

Author : Bob Newbell

“Your hot coffee, sir,” says the Inteeri waiter as he places the beverage on the table in front of me.

“Thanks. Here’s–” The short alien that looks vaguely like an anthropomorphic armadillo shuffles away before I can offer him a tip. At no time while serving me does he make eye contact. That was out of respect. And fear. I’m nobody important. Just a struggling writer. My waiter probably has more money in the bank than I have. But in his eyes — all six of them — it doesn’t matter. I’m a member of the galaxy’s most terrifying species. I’m human.

My old man was part of the delegation that made first contact with the Inteeri. The aliens weren’t sure if mankind posed a threat to them so their top military officials were tasked with the initial assessment of the human race. On a space station orbiting Inteer Secundum, my dad and the other human ambassadors met with the alien generals and admirals. One of the human delegates had a slight cold. He sneezed once during the meeting. An hour later the entire Inteeri High Command were dead. The earthly rhinovirus proved instantly lethal. With their military command gutted, the Inteeri political leaders unconditionally surrendered to Earth despite the reassurances of a distraught and horrified humanity that the Inteeri deaths were an unintended tragedy.

Someone or something jostles me as it moves past. Some of my coffee spills onto the table. I turn in my chair to come face to face with a rather surly looking Kordann. The creature’s eyestalks quickly withdraw from a beligerent extension to a submissive retraction as its leathery skin turns blue with fear.

“Ten thousand pardons, master,” the Kordann says through its translation device as it glides away on six tentacles, bowing in apology.

Humans made contact with the Kordann ten years after the disastrous Inteeri encounter. Again, the Biomedical Assessment Team determined there was little danger of contagion between the species. Nonetheless, the Earth delegates wore environment suits as a precaution. As the human ambassador walked up with his hand extended to the Kordann prime minister, he tripped. The Earthman’s hand struck the Kordann leader’s trachea, killing the latter. The details of this event bore a more than passing resemblance to a passage in the Kordann Book of Scripture prophesying a visitor from the heavens who would kill a Kordann ruler and establish a monarchy on their world. The religious-minded Kordann quickly submitted.

And so it would go for Mankind’s emmisaries to the stars. The Scottish brogue of Earth’s ambassador to the Relvet would result in “We come in peace and brotherhood” being mistranslated as “Surrender and serve, or die.” In the wake of the fall of both Inteer Secundum and Kordanna, the Relvet surrendered.

On Basura VII, the representative from Earth accidentally knocked over his water glass short-circuiting the computer that managed the Basuran Stock Exchange. A crippling recession and humble request that Basura VII be admitted to the growing Terran Empire followed. The Supreme Monarch of Juppnoi, finding himself trapped on a conference table by the barking Maltese dog of the Earth diplomat, abdicated the throne and turned the Juppnoi Kingdom over to Terran control.

Humanity now dominates much of the Orion Arm of the Milky Way galaxy. But we’ve turned over all further first contact and diplomatic missions to our extraterrestrial vassal states. A population of 50 billion subjects, none of whom we wanted, is more than enough.

"The storytelling of Halo, the scope of World of Warcraft and the co-operative fun of Borderlands — may eventually get patched in." Thus begins the brutally Honest Trailer for Destiny, "The video game equivalent of a beautiful mansion full of cheap Ikea furniture."

Okay, easy target, but Smosh Games completely nails Bungie's latest, especially with one of the video's final lines: "Man, I have no idea why I'm still playing this." I'm in the same boat. I am fully aware of all of the aspects of the game that need serious work, but damn if it's not a fun place to shoot things in the face.

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You've probably noticed it called out in some Grand Theft Auto, Uncharted and BioShock games: those moments where the emotions being presented to you in cutscenes or dialogue don't match up with what the player's being told to do. And while that issue has been a point of contention for many years, I wasn't ever expecting Saturday Night Live to do a sketch about it. Much less a hilarious one.

Ludonarrative dissonance is the fancy, occasionally derided term for the gap between a game's emotional underpinnings and what the person playing it needs to do to progress. And that phrase never gets uttered in this SNL sketch from the Sept. 27 Chris Pratt episode. But it's clearly what the bit is homing in on. I know this is old in terms of internet time, but I just saw it tonight and felt I had to share it in case anyone was in the same boat as me and hadn't seen it.

[via Twitter]

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Researchers have discovered a new way to make molecular oxygen without the need of plants. The research could help scientists understand the Earth’s early atmosphere and how other planets filled with carbon dioxide may form oxygen.

The French Tribune reports that researchers from the University of California in Davis have found that by exposing carbon dioxide molecules to light radiation’s certain wavelengths, they can be split into carbon (C) and oxygen (O2) molecule. However, the University of California study is not the only one confirming that carbon dioxide can be converted to oxygen. Previous researches on oxygen discovered from carbon have shown that carbon dioxide (CO2) would split into carbon monoxide (CO) and oxygen (O). According to those researches, it doesn’t matter what wavelengths of light were involved.

Even though scientists think plants produced most of the oxygen present on Earth, they now suspect some oxygen may have existed before photosynthetic organisms like plants arose, said Cheuk-Yiu Ng, a physical chemist at the University of California, Davis, and co-author of the study published today (Oct. 2) in the journal Science.

Student Zhou Lu from University of California tells the Free Press Journal that previously, people believed that the abiotic, no green plants involved, source of molecular oxygen is by CO2 + solar light. Lu used a vacuum ultraviolet laser to irradiate CO2 in the laboratory and the vacuum ultraviolet light is so-called because it has a wavelength below 200 nanometers and is typically absorbed by air. Such one-step oxygen formation could be happening now as carbon dioxide increases in the region of the upper atmosphere, where high energy vacuum ultraviolet light from the Sun hits Earth or other planets. Lu also notes that the findings could prove that oxygen could be formed on planets that do not have plant life such as Venus and Mars.

This means the search for extraterrestrial life may need to be revised. Detecting oxygen in the atmosphere of another planet is now not enough to signify the presence of life. The researchers did note that the research may prove it is possible to make oxygen in space or on other planets with this technique without the need of plant life. However, scientists note that more studies are needed to verify the fundamentals of how this reaction occurs.

Scientists are blowing holes in a number of long-held theories as of late. Researchers found that the “man in the moon” may not have been created by asteroid impact like previously thought.

Researchers Discover A New Way To Make Oxygen Without Plants is an article from: The Inquisitr News

With a little editing the Prime Minister of England makes a pretty decent rapper.

Friday, October 3rd, 2014 12:00 AM

(if the above link doesn’t work, try this video below. But fullscreen that sucker!)

This has been Brawl in the Family. Thank you for reading.

Im not even sure where to begin. This experience has truly been a magical one for me. Not only have I been able to do something that I really enjoy, but Ive been able to share that joy with people the world over. The fan response has absolutely been the most fulfilling part of all of this, and I hope that future readers will find the same enjoyment in this little blue-and-white corner of the internet.

Guess I should give one last comic write-up for One Last Song, eh? Well, its a pretty straightforward idea, a look back at various comics in an original song (the third fully original theme in BitF history, in fact, along with 200 and 400). I provided all the voices. And even the right hand showed up for this one (although since I’m a southpaw, the other hand seems a little nuts, to be honest). The big Les Miserables-style number near the end was a very late addition, but it ended up working itself out surprisingly well I think. Hope you enjoyed this trip through memory lane!

The BitF Complete Collection Kickstarter only has hours left until the end!! If you want Volumes 2 and 3, its now or never! (Well, okay, the PayPal preorders will still remain open for a few months)

The big question Ive been getting lately has been, Whats next? A lot of you want to follow me and see my future projects! Well, here you go:

1) Tadpole Treble is the big one! This is the indie game that my brother and I came up with, and Im doing nearly all of the art and music for it as well and its coming to the Wii U next year. Our gaming company is BitFinity, and were planning on doing a frequent developer blog on the site to give readers interesting tidbits that go into designing a game. Im planning on drawing for it as well, so you may want to tune in for that too.

This is our website:http://bitfinitygames.comThis is TT’s Facebook page, which frequently gets updated with new stuff:https://www.facebook.com/TadpoleTreble

And if you havent seen it yet, be sure to check out this shiny new trailer weve constructed for your enjoyment!

We could still use some Greenlight Votes to get on Steam, though, so feel free to help us out!

2) If thats not enough, my buddy Josh Hano hit his goal with Wii U-bound action game Nefarious, and Im handling the soundtrack to that one as well. Nefarious is early in development, but its already shaping up to be a great game, and you can keep your eye on it here.

3) But Matthew, I hear you say, Video games are all well and good, but I prefer still images of Nintendo characters doing funny things! Well, youre still in luck because Im not fully retired from comics. NF Magazine is a terrific spiritual successor to Nintendo Power, spearheaded by some of the top Nintendo fans on the internet, and Im still doing a comic every issue for them. Granted, one strip every 2 months is 1/16th what you might be used to from me, but theyre all in full color and still contain my oddball sense of humor! I also write articles and review for them.

4) Podcasts! Yep, as of right now, were not quite done with them. In fact, Id like to update next month with a post-BitF podcast starring Chris and I, so keep your eyes out. We might even make it a regular thing (for once)!

5) Ive taken the plunge and opened a Twitter account. Im MatthewPTaranto over there (for now) because BitFinityMatthew doesnt fit (and I dont really go by Matt). This account should keep you up to date on various things Im working on in the future!

6) As of now, not only is the BitFinity site open, the forums are as well! Since BitFinity is a wholly separate site from BitF, we thought itd be good to keep the forums separate. However, the Brawl in the Family Forums will still remain up and running as well! BitFinitys new forum will be a good place to talk Tadpole Treble and other developer discussion though.

Andwhat of www.brawlinthefamily.com? Dont worrythe sites not going anywhere (even though shutting it down would probably increase book sales!); youll be able to check back on all 600 comics at any time.

How about the Store? Well, were sold out of everything except Volume Ones and Eight Formidable Bosses Shirts. Both are on clearance sale, especially paperbacks of Volume One, which are cheaper than ever!

And the Forums? Theyre not goin anywhere either!

In short, everything here on the site will stay here for the foreseeable future, so youll still be able to party with the Random button at any time~

Okay then. I think thats everything. Ill still be around, finally getting around to checking my email and such, andoh yeah, writing/designing two absolutely enormous books. Thats after months of constant working and planning to get all this ended in a timely and satisfying fashion! I havent slept past 8:30 AM since the Summer!

But you know what? Im happy to do all that, and I wouldnt trade my experiences with Brawl in the Family over the past few years for anything. Remember, friends, as long as these characters live on through you guys (and Nintendo, of course), theyll continue to have adventures and stories for decades.

So farewell, Kirby, Dedede, Meta Knight, Adeleine, Waluigi, and all the fans out there whove followed this silly comic strip for so long! Thanks for letting me share this part of my life with all of you.

-Matthew Taranto, lifelong Nintendo fan

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With the Cactus Airflow 2L, Citroen thinks it's found a way to bring the cost of hybrid technology down to earth using nothing but air. Based on a production Cactus model, the natty, low-roofed concept car has a unique hybrid compressed air/gas...

This year’s Godzilla was a much better film than the last one we saw back in 1998, but no movie is made without a sin in the eyes of YouTube film critics CinemaSins.

The Cluny Museum in France provides this eye-opening demonstration on how soldier’s fought while wearing full armor in medieval Europe.

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[baconzombie]

I hope I haven’t miscategorized.

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Brace yourselves, Earthbound fans, an unofficial fourth sequel to Nintendo’s cult-classic RPG series is in the works! Set in an idealized vintage America, Mother 4 follows the adventures of a young boy and the leader of a biker gang, who get caught up in the whirlwind of events surrounding a group calling themselves the Modern Men.

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Ads by Project Wonderful! Your ad could be here, right now.

Destiny's infamous loot cave is dead. But a cheeky developer has paid homage to the beloved engram-farming location with a game you can play right in your browser.

Sure, other caves are being touted as successors to the magnetic exploit in Bungie's popular new shooter. You still need to fire up Destiny to get to those locations, though. However, for those times when you need to scratch your cave-shootin' itch away from home, you can play Daniel Rosas' Interactive Cave Shooting Simulator right in your browser.

Granted it doesn't have any actual enemies or anything like that but, man, look all those engrams! This cave isn't stingy at all. Overall, the joke manages to be funny, despite clearly being a quick weekend's work.

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This popular infomercial parody skit from the British sketch comedy television series The Peter Serafinowicz Show has inspired a slew of YouTube Poop remixes on YouTube.

Once an old French man of the May '68 generation said to me: “You can’t imagine what sexual revolution means for us, who grew up in the Catholic country where sex was a sin.” I answered: “It has to be like the Internet for us, who grew up in Soviet Union where information was a treasure.”

For the majority of young men, imagining a Soviet closed society is as hard as it is to imagine the world without miniskirts, contraception, and X-rated video. However, I grew up in a world where any information was strictly controlled. There were a handful of Hollywood movies each year, translations of 20-30 years old sci-fi novels, the first volume of Lord of the Rings (no second and third), only one disc from The Beatles and no discs of The Doors or Rolling Stones. Many foreign books and movies were prohibited or just unavailable: not only the politically charged 1984, but the innocent Star Wars (because Star Wars was a nickname of Reagan’s space program). As a result, the rare lucky ones who traveled abroad, retold movies that they saw (“You know, Jaws has very simple plot…”). We had Samizdat – the underground circulation of typewritten books – but mostly it was anti-Soviet prose and poetry or – rarely – poorly-translated pornography. We had no fanzine system or means for sharing independent information about movies, books, music etc.

I grew up and the Iron Curtain collapsed – and after a few years we discovered the Internet. Soon we could find everything we needed: the full filmography of any director, the receipts of bomb and drug manufacturers, English texts of classics and Russian translations of almost everything.

It was like the sexual revolution for a graduate of Catholic school.

We were overdosed by free information.

The first years of the Internet in Russia were full of ecstasy and euphoria. We believed that information must be free and the times of propaganda were gone: any person who has access to non-censored news would easily choose the truth. We felt secure and safe: we knew encryption and nobody could catch us in our new brave world.

Two decades later and it’s hard to find the traces of our belief in the Russian Internet. The only thing we inherited from the nineties and the Samizdat are the torrents and e-libraries. Copyright is dead: almost any film and any book can be downloaded for free after a five minute search. The film distributors have to make arrangements with pirates about “two week vacancies” after theatre premieres, but the small publishers are just bankrupt. I’m not sure it’s the great result we dreamt in early years of the Internet.

Talking about security and freedom, we have only bad news: the secret service spying (not only in Russia), mailbox hacking, the blocking of anti-Putin sites… the Kremlin controls the majority of online media in Russia and talks about building a China-style Great Russian Firewall.

However the worst is the old good propaganda. Surprise! – It still works! There are dozens of comments on any political post. The commentators write about the wisdom of Putin, the increasing Russian economy and the greedy and guileful United States who dreams to destroy Russia and conquest their territory before a San-Andreas earthquake or Yellowstone explosion ruins their country. It is said that some of the comments are sponsored by a special political center (the pay is 3 bucks per comment), however I’m afraid somebody writes this bullshit for free: sometimes people choose lies even when they have access to independent information.

So, we are lost: there is no freedom of information that we dreamt about and spying and the state propaganda are stronger than ever. It seems that we are like the generation from the sixties who believed that everybody who tasted sex-drugs-rock-n-roll would never be slave of the System.

Nice to know we are not the first to delude ourselves about the importance of new technology and new culture. It is a weak consolation. However, you can envy us: we were so happy twenty years ago when we discovered the Internet and thought we discovered a cure for lies and mind-control. That kind of of happiness is a rare experience.

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