The True Story of the White Spots on Ceres

From the Mind of Muggington

“Hurry,”  the One said. “We have three more Earth days. We must have the shields in place by then.” Biobots swarmed the two major life collections on the planet.

“All life forms should enter the bunkers at this time,” the One said. “Our survival depends on avoiding detection. As we suspected the spacecraft will take up orbit. ”

The biobots did an incredible job. Rocky ice now covered everything.  “With what we know of Earth’s technology at this time they will never be able to detect our presence,” the One said.

Below the planet’s surface the deliberations began. “We knew they would come,” Lifeform A said. “Yes, their greed knows no bounds,” Lifeform B said. “I propose a first strike,” Lifeform A said. “They are too close.” The other lifeforms assented and relayed their decision to the One.

“Agreed,” the One said. “We shall wait until they have weakened themselves. It is only a matter of time before their squabbling results in nuclear war. Eradication will be a simple matter.”

Did Dark Matter cause mass extinctions?

From the Mind of Muggington,

Sometimes published journal articles are crazier than the wildest science fiction.

Check out the article below:

Does dark matter cause mass extinctions?

It is fun to speculate about dark matter. I love doing it myself. Unfortunately until we determine the nature of dark matter we know very little.

I think we should remember the K.I.S.S. principle. There are many possible causes of mass extinctions such as climate change, volcanic activity, asteroid strikes, disease and others.

Envy

From the Mind of Muggington,

I finally got into the station. People are everywhere. I’m watching the board like a hawk. In five minutes the number of the platform for my train should appear.

Damn, something’s wrong. The waiting room is packed with people. I can’t move. My neck is getting tired looking up at the board. I turn to the left and something catches my eye.

A neon red sign glows with the name of the pub. I can see in the entrance. The place is filled. Men and women sit at the bar while others stand behind them. One guy has a pint of Guinness. On his right four men in suits are swigging bottles of Bud and laughing. A group of women sips red and white wine.

I look back at the board. I shift from foot to foot. A garbled announcement is made. “The entrances to the station are closed. Please do not go to your platform until it appears on the board. As always stay behind the yellow line and stay safe,” the voice said.

I hear curses from the crowd. I look back at the pub. I watch as a woman behind the bar places a shrimp cocktail in front of a customer. Two stocky guys chow down on chicken wings. A gray haired man in a suit raises a glass of Irish whiskey to his lips. He holds it up to the light so he can admire the golden liquid.  I can almost taste it.

I hear another announcement. “Due to signal trouble all eastbound trains are canceled.” I sigh and look at my smartphone. Of course I can’t get a signal. What else can possibly go wrong?

Someone pushes me in the back and I lurch forward. I turn to complain and I see a group of teenagers. They are staggering and talking in loud voices. Oh no, here it comes. One of the girls can’t handle her drink. Plop. She vomits on the floor. Her male friends hold her as she kneels and continues to puke.

I crane my head and look back at the pub. I can see the television screens behind the bar. I bet they are watching the Yankees game. I wonder what the score is? I lick my lips. I realize that I am starving. I didn’t get to eat lunch today.

I turn back and look at the board. The word ‘canceled’ appears at the end of every train listing. Please, please fix the damn signals. I shift my feet and put my hand in front of my nose trying to filter out the smell of vomit.

Wait, something is happening. The lights on the board are flickering. My gaze is like a laser beam. I am poised to leap into action. As soon as the first pixel forms and I see the number I will shoot to the front of the crowd. After that I will be first in line shuffling down the broken escalator to the platform. Finally I will saunter in and take my clean, comfortable seat on the train.

The board blinked “Gate fifteen”. The crowd surged as one.

I missed the first train. I squeezed onto the next one forty five minutes later. I stood in the aisle for the next hour.

I closed my eyes as I swayed to the rhythm of the train. I watched the bar maid pour another Guinness. I’m glad they know how to pour a proper pint. I couldn’t decide whether to get a cheeseburger or the Philly cheese-steak.

“Look at that guy smiling like an idiot. How can anyone be cheerful on this damn train,” a man in a suit said.

Can Man

From the Mind of Muggington

It’s freezing. I snuggle under my pile of blankets trying to keep the cold out. I peek out and check on my shopping cart. Good, it’s still there. Last week some bastard stole my cart.

I take a swig. Ah, that’s good. I better get up soon. I hear people walking by. I can’t believe they don’t even say hello. They don’t care if I live or die. They have nice clothes. I know mine are dirty but where can I wash them? I want to be clean too.

I better get going if I want to get my cans. I stand and my blankets fall to the ground. I roll the blankets up and stuff them into the bottom of the cart. I push hard. I need all the room I can get.

Good, the trash bags are still there in the cart. I stand and start my routine. First thing I go to the park. The trash cans always have cans. Coke, Coke, Coke, Sprite, Coke, Pepsi. I toss the cans in the bag. A couple is walking on the path. They stare at me. I’m not an animal. I’m a human. This is how I survive.

I finish the trash cans. It’s not enough. This won’t pay for a cup of coffee. I got to go downtown.

This is the tough part. The cops chase me. The shopowners hate me. They don’t want a bum with a shopping cart in front of their store. They don’t know me. I’m  human just like them.

I grew up in the midwest. I had a great family. My brothers and sisters stuck together. I played football. I threw bullets and my receivers caught them. It’s crazy. I was a high school hero. Then it went downhill.

I couldn’t get into college. I took any job I could. I worked as a landscaper, a grinder and a roofer. Nothing worked out.

Finally I had an inspiration. I came to New York City. I knew there would be a job for me.

I asked every day. I submitted my resume. I interviewed. Nothing came. Eventually I found a place to sleep under a bridge. I started collecting cans.

Cans keep me alive. I’ve learned a lot. Some are made of steel coated with zinc. Those are the strong ones. Others are aluminum and flimsy. I hesitate when I pick them up.

The bottom line is numbers. I need to harvest massive numbers. Every day I do my rounds. I reach into the trash cans. Sometimes I gag. It is so bad. I keep going. I don’t have a choice.

Dark matter update

From the Mind of Muggington,

DAMA , a research group that investigates rare processes in an underground laboratory of the Gran Sasso, has published results of an experiment that investigates dark matter.  You can find out more about their work here:

The DAMA Project – Investigations on particle DArk MAtter and other rare processes with highly radiopure scintillators @ Gran Sasso

It is an interesting project using a well-known approach, looking for seasonal variations in data. They add an interesting twist by assuming that their dark matter target of sodium with it’s odd number of protons is the reason that their detector has succeeded in detecting dark matter while others have not.

I’m still skeptical that they have actually detected dark matter since there are other plausible explanations for the results. In any event, it is a fascinating development.

Jenny Hinsman Blog Tour

From the Mind of Muggington,

Welcome to the Jenny Hinsman Blog Tour

‘How do you come up with the story?’

This is a question I get a lot from friends, family and fans.

My love for writing comes from my love for reading.  Books have always been a huge part of my life.  I grew up watching my mom read all the time, I cannot remember a time in my life where my mom was not reading a book.  I was also very fortunate to have wonderful teachers that had a love for reading and dissecting stories.

Ideas for stories come from events, places, people and even dreams from everyday life.  I try to tap into emotions I get from music, art and even other books to create stories that I enjoy and hope others will as well.    Once I write an idea down I try to set up the scene, like one you would see in a movie.  I picture the background, the lighting, the mood, the characters, even the scent and feel of the scene.  It may start as just be a brief dialogue between two characters and then I build around it.  I ask myself after I write the scene, how did the characters get there?  What is their relationship?  Why are their personalities this way?  Where will the story/scene take them?  What is exciting about this?  Are there answers?  It is quite thrilling for me to find the answers!

The process for me is fun and I think that is the key, if I felt stressed or pressured my enthusiasm would wane.  I try not to worry about spelling, grammar or those types of things when the story is really flowing because it slows me down and that can all be fixed later.  I think the reader would be able to tell if the author was not passionate and excited about the story being told.

3D Angel of Death

ANGEL OF DEATH Book Trailer:
http://youtu.be/hPGx4yGyW9I

ANGEL OF DEATH Purchase Link:
http://www.amazon.com/Angel-Death-Jennifer-Hinsman-ebook/dp/B00P2UBI5Y/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1420227876&sr=1-1&keywords=angel+of+death+by+jennifer+hinsman

Goodreads Event Page – https://www.goodreads.com/event/show/950880-the-angel-of-death-tour

Rafflecopter Giveaway Page – http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/4af5be7f8/?

This tour sponsored by 4WillsPublishing.wordpress.com.

Snow day

From the Mind of Muggington

It’s cold in the house. Outside snow falls. A scrawny sparrow chirps next to the empty bird feeder. Several chubby squirrels managed to pry the lid off and now seeds litter the front porch.

I see a woman walking in the park. Her furry parka makes her into an upright lioness. I too will venture out soon. The ground is dusted with snow. I wonder whether boots are necessary.  I see a mental image of myself flying through the air. Yes, I think something with tread would be a good idea.

I open the closet and sigh.  The coats and jackets are slouching half on and off coat hangers. I prepare for battle. I know that when I manage to pull out my heavy coat, one of my wife’s coats will fall into the dark abyss at the bottom. I am certain that it will land on my dirty work boots.

After removing my coat and boots I manage to force the door shut with a bang. It’s almost as if the clothing and other unseen occupants of the closet are clawing at the door and pushing it open at the same time.

I bundle up from head to toe and brace myself for the bone-chilling cold.

I  squeeze through the doorway in my bulky clothing.

I did it. I am outside on this fine winter day.

The Reformation

From the Mind of Muggington

No one knows why it happened.

“I want to start an organic garden,” Hacker One said. “I’m tired of wasting my life in front of a screen trying to break into people’s computers.”

“I’m going to learn about solar power. I’ll start a business and install solar panels,” Hacker Two said.

The Hackers stopped. They went out into the sunshine. They saw that they could do good in this world.