Physics Disaster: Episode 1 "Pandora's Box"

Every morning just before sun rise, Isaac will roll around in his bed appreciating the fact that every action has an equal and opposite reaction, lest his mattress gives way for his mass to accelerate straight down to the center of the Earth.

But this morning is a little bit different than before. As soon as his consciousness creeps up to him, Isaac peeled the quilt off of his body and rolled off the bed onto his tiny feet. It is still dark outside, but Isaac's little frame could no longer hold in the excitement. If one can assign physical property and occupied space to his excitement, it would takes the place of his hair, which at this very instant is perfectly mimicking a jet black explosion. Well, except that it would be all colorful and exciting, of course.

Like all perfectly reasonable event, Isaac's excitement must be a result of a perfectly rational, explainable and quantifiable cause. That cause arrived late the night before in the form of his father, Professor Alan Smith, who has just returned from his latest expedition to the deepest frontier of the Earth. Despite being a sophomore in a prestigious college, Isaac is always as giddy as a little boy every time his father comes home.

Isaac tiptoes down the stairs in the pitch black, and navigates himself effortlessly into the kitchen. He is hoping to whip up a little breakfast for his old man. After all, there's nothing in the world that says "welcome home!" better to a person who just spent six months chasing mythical relics in the middle of a deadly rain forest than a nice toast and jam, ice cold glass of juice, and freshly cooked veggie sausage. Isaac's family: his father and him, are vegetarian, or something close to that. His mother had long since left them for another man because she can no longer stand having a husband who disappear for months at a time.

As Isaac groped the kitchen wall just above the counter for the light switch, his hand rammed into something.. something that wasn't usually there. His hand, being a moving physical object, did what it did best, and heartily shares its energy and momentum with the box, sending it tumbling to the ground with a dull thud. For once, an action producing an equal and opposite reaction does not favor Isaac. But lady luck still do, and the box sat on the ground unharmed, its lid firmly held against the box by its own mass pressing down on it.

And just as Isaac's figure touched the switch, the room lit up. However, it is not from the LED light situated above his head, but from the seam between the box and its lid. Mr Smith flies down the last couple of steps on the stair to witness what happened.

"Oh, dear.. I think you've just opened Pandora's Box, son", Mr Smith whispered almost inaudibly, his mouth gaping wide open.

Feeding 3 birds with 1 seed

I guess the normal expression is killing x number of birds with 1 stone, but I'm not quite in the mood for killing small avian today. Maybe in the evening after class..

At any rate, I've been thinking lately about coding one of those PHP web based game game. It would be a good excuse to learn some programming, do some artwork, and well, make a game. What kind of geeky boy never tried making a game before in his life, right? And when I fail, I can always quote the fact that most people that try to do so fail miserably as well. And if I succeed, who knows--maybe I will be hailed the champion of internet, the person who evolved an entire genre of gaming. That'd be pretty cool, right?

I think I'm going to call it Bad Polygon, and it will be a steampunk text-based action RPG. How do you make a text based action game? Good question. I'm trying to find an answer to that myself. But that's why this is going to be so much fun ^^

If only

On that day, if only she had held onto my hand.
Imagine the possibility:


.........
(That's sad. I thought I was inspired by a movie from which this entry received its namesake, but I drew a blank) Maybe it was just too painful to actually put it on paper. I still imagine every night, in that serene hour before I complete my transfiguration to my dream self, and the hours before dawn when my limp corpse finally tugged on the chain and reeled my disembodied soul back to the rude reality that is consciousness. Every night I imagine..
What would happen, if on that day, she had said yes.
I wonder, if I would be in a far off land, a far off planet, the furthest reach of the last of the final frontier, and beyond, with her. How many passionate kisses would we have shared by now? Or under how many trees, and on how many meadows would we sit, and chat away idle afternoons until night fall, when I would pull her close and embrace her as the horizon embraces the sun. Would we spend the night lazed away, gazing at the infinite wonder of the heavenly sphere, drawing lines among constellations, and whisper softly into each other's ears, those sweet, sweet words.

Love.

If only she had reciprocated the very thing she benignly and unknowingly taught me. Oh, how naive I must have been, to think that a mere mortal could reach to the furthest heaven, that Icarus would reach the sun, that a lowly farmhand may have the hand of the princess of the tower?

Sweet, sweet love.

If only she had felt it too.
I can only imagine...

Let's get creative

When the creative juice flows from the brain, one must be sure to capture it. See, creative juice is a very valuable substance, and very ephemeral in nature. So you must hold tight to it with all three of your hands, and never ever let go--not until someone walks by anyway, because that's when you hurl your creative juice all over them, splashing them with the infectious, mind blowing awesomeness that is your imagination.

That somehow sounded really dirty...

And why Creative X Juice? Well, firstly because creative-juice and any of its variants are already taken as the blog name. And besides, what cool stuff doesn't have an X somewhere in the title? (Oh wait. Did gen-X pass a decade ago? Whoops..)