Look Ma, I'm a Writer!

Before it was shut down, the Amicus Project was the research and development project whose main objective was to create a wormhole, a portal between the two galaxies of Acquintas and Amicus. It was supposed to be remembered as the bridge that cut intergalactic travel time down to milliseconds. Instead, the Amicus Project would go down in history for the reason it was shut down─the glitch.


BACKGROUND:

Acquintas Nebula
Designation: Galaxy, Third Class
Star systems: 5
Inhabited: 3
Major planets: Acquintasia, Deluzian I, Phasmid-XG
Dominant species: Human
Dominant race: Acquintan

Amicus Galactic Federation
Designation: Autonomous Galaxy, First Class
Star systems: 23
Inhabited: 17
Major planets: Amicus Primus, Amicus Secundus, Dabarquad V
Dominant species: Human
Dominant race: Amici


* * * * *


The Amici imposed
very strict requirements
regarding entry into their system.
Generally, third-class galactic citizens
were considered by the Amici as
a lower species, sub-human,
infinitely inferior.

In selecting the Guinea Pig
for the Amicus Project,
three factors were
taken into consideration.

First: Genetics.
The Guinea Pig must be
of Amici descent.
Second: Intelligence.
In the event of a succesful crossover,
the Guinea Pig must be equipped
with the same intellectual abilities
as any ordinary Amici citizen
to be able to integrate fully
into this new system.
And third: Expendability.
In the event of a failure,
the Guinea Pig must present
no significant loss
to both galactic governments.

After an extensive selection process,
the Amicus Project selected
for their Guinea Pig
Acquintan prisoner number 8997161,
for satisfying all the requirements.
It was agreed that
as long as the Guinea Pig
successfully crossed the portal,
dead or alive,
he would be honoured
as an Amici citizen.

Finally, on the
day of the crossing,
a hundred billion Acquintans
tuned in to watch
the historic event.
But as soon as
the Guinea Pig
entered the portal,
it happened.

The glitch.

At the exact moment
the Guinea Pig was
inside the wormhole,
the power surged,
causing all the equipment
to flicker and reboot.
And in that split-second,
the Guinea Pig disappeared.
He went into the portal,
but he never came out of it.

It has been theorised that
the wormhole could not handle
the mass of a human body,
which caused the wormhole
to collapse on itself,
obliterating the Guinea Pig,
disintegrating him
down to his atoms.

Others believe that
the Guinea Pig did not
disappear. They believe
he actually went
somewhere, to that place
which was neither
Acquintas nor Amicus.

The Guinea Pig
of the Amicus Project,
Acquintan prisoner number 8997161
is believed to have gone
all the way back to
the beginning,
back to when he was
nothing.



8 Nov 2013

I have been painted
Evil in a thousand ways
In a thousand eyes

They headed north,
way up in the
Mountain Province,
riding a local
bus, but
seated way in the rear.
It was freezing;
you could turn on the
airconditioning
by opening a window.

It was her first time,
but he'd been here before,
when it was still
a provincial mountain town,
both a tourist destination
and a hashish haven.

They wanted to do it
like in that
romantic comedy movie,
hoping that
pines
ferns,
and evergreens
would be enough
kindle to reignite
their spark
that was lost.

All they could see
were mountains,
far as the eye could see.
A mountain view
so spectacular
that only
360° IMAX
can capture it
with justice.

But that night, no
sparks ignited.
No lost emotions
rekindled.
Instead,
foundations were set,
expectations were levelled,
and lessons were learned.

Marriage is a mountain,

one which you must
climb. And conquer.
That would be
going against gravity,
so there will be
effort exerted.
There is no
straight road
to the summit;
there are zig-zags,
blind corners,
and alternating
one-way passes.

Teamwork is crucial.
Climbing is a team effort.

There is no such thing
as a solo mountaineer.
There is a team;
an expedition.
At least two, there are.
A climber, and a belayer.
And they can switch roles.

That night,
down on the forest floor,
looking up at the
star-studded sky,
both of them
wondered what it would
be like to live
on a mountain.



*Sun, 31 Jan 2015. SAG.MTP.PHL.

She watched through
blurry eyes, this
reality cooking
show on the telly, which
she never was a fan of
before. But now,
with everything
going on
in her mind, she found
it interesting.

The challenge: Make
the bitter gourd palatable
to those who hate it.

And seeing one of these
would-be Master
Chefs washing his bitter
gourd, hunched over the
sink, she slowly
felt waves of
sadness, like running
water washing
over her, the
bitterness sinking to
the pit of her stomach,

She watched the chef
boil the gourd
in saltwater,
to lessen its bitterness,
but the taste of salt
in her tears
did not lessen hers.

The chef took
the boiled gourd,
and with his sharp
kinfe, sliced
it thin, with
deft, deliberate
strokes, as she imagined
parallel bleeding strips
if she applied the
same knife strokes on
her wrists.

And finally, with
time running
out, in
an act of desperation,
the would-be
Master Chef tried covering
the bitterness in a sweet
caramel cover.
But she knew this chef
would lose the challenge,
for no amount of sugar-
coating can conceal
the bitterness
hidden underneath.

Scientist Hangs Himself After Groundbreaking Discovery
Arizona State University – Police found senior faculty member Dr. Andre Brody hanging dead in his office yesterday morning after a phone call from the head of campus security. Dr. Brody became famous after the publication of his paper on "fetal microchimerism".

Dr. Brody's fiancée, a single mother, was devastated by his death. "This has been a very tough ordeal for me, and especially for my son, who has grown to love Andre as his real father," she says. His fiancée's 10-year old boy, though not his biological child, was chosen by Brody to be his best man for his wedding scheduled next year.

"Fetal microchimerism" discusses the phenomena of "fetal cells", which are cells from the fetus in a mother’s womb that leave the placenta during pregnancy or soon after birth, and take residence in different areas of the mother’s body. That means a mother has her child's cells within her, and can stay with her for up to three decades. (Associated Press)

***

Suicide Note of Dr. Andre Brody
O, I write this letter
with a heavy heart,
knowing that in my experiment
I have not only proven that
all mothers are chimeras,
but also that my fiancée
has the DNA of her ex
inside her.

And the Lord said:
“Let there be light.”


When we were young,
we were silent. But
as we grew older, we
learned how to create
Sound


And as we grew older, we
discovered Memory,
our mental archive
which captures life like
a camera


From childhood to growthspurt,
from growthspurt to raging hormones,
from lust, we fall
in love


The Lord gave us emotions;
to some, a blessing,
to others, a curse. But
the Lord also gave a gift that can
affect our emotions – it is called
Music


Now sometimes, we have emotions
so heavy that it becomes
a burden to bear.
On the borderline, we are in danger
of crossing over
to Insanity, or to its cousin,
Death.



Because the Lord gave
everyone of us a chance
to shine in our own movie,
and it doesn’t end until
the credits start crawling upward.

The problem with walls is this:

When two warring states are
separated by a wall,

you can-
not see
the enemy.

You have no idea
whether you are facing a
thousand troops
or a
single soldier.

Thus, you will have to
utilize your siege
weapons. But there is too
much math
involved. You must
calculate for
probability of placement
of troops,
plus parabolic projectile paths,
which may or may not
hit your target.

Walls leave you blind.
And so they must be broken down.

Without walls,
the battlefield becomes bigger.
And you can see with your
own eyes, whether your
archers' arrows
pierce the heart of the enemy.

They called him an amateur,
a thief who was too
flashy, too fast.
"I'll show them
who's an amateur,"
said the thief, as
he clambered up the wall
and swung over the balcony
to the princess's bedroom.
All in less than a minute.

He picked the
lock, and landed
beside the sleeping
figure of the beautiful
princess.
All in less than a minute.

The other thieves
said that he couldn't
steal the princess's tiara.
But the thief was
arrogant, and
decided he could steal the
tiara, and a kiss
from the sleeping princess
at the same time.

So he moved closer,
looking into the
princess's beautiful
face, and as he
moved his lips
to kiss hers,

she woke up.
All in less than a minute.

And the next morning,
everyone in the castle was
bustling with excitement,
to watch the execution
of the amateur thief who
got caught stealing
a kiss from
the sleeping princess.

Or more specifically,
he did, since
he was behind the wheel.
"You've killed a cat!"
she shouted,
and he quickly looked behind
in the rear view mirror,
but there was no sign of any
dead feline,
no body on the asphalt.
He couldn't have
killed a cat,
because she loved cats, and
to kill a cat
would be like
killing her too.

But he did see a
cat cross,
and he did slam on the brakes,
yet he felt something
under the wheel, and
he did hear
a thud, and a
sort of squishy sound.

They both saw it;
they both heard it; and
they both felt it.

They (might have)
killed a cat.
But the cat seems
to have vanished
without a trace.


*inspired by real events, and the poem "They've Killed a Dog" by Michael Balili