It's Mr. Kessler's Birthday!

Hooray for Mr. Kessler's birthday!

Very early this morning, a package arrived at Mr. Kessler's residence. Mr. Kessler picked it up; Mr. Kessler looked at the label. It had come all the way from Dreamland - and it was for him!

Mr. Kessler's heart leapt with joy!

(actually he spent like forty-five minutes getting the blasted thing to work)

Then Mr. Kessler's heart leapt with joy!

And so generous, so kind, so benevolent is Mr. Kessler that he will share his gift with all of you!

Download link is here! (You'll want to run "waddledee.exe"; "waddledee.sourcecode" is actually just a text file, if you want to have a look at it.)

An excerpt of the letter enclosed in Mr. Kessler's package:

Here are some things you may wish to try!

• Click near the ground!
• Click in the sky!
• Double-click near the ground!
• Marvel and delight at the natural splendor of existence!

Happy birthday, Mr. Kessler!

Aaand many moreeeeee...

Homework Proves Troublesome

Kelsey awoke suddenly.

"Who are you?" he asked, blinking groggily at the shadowy figure standing before you. "What are you doing in my room?"

"My name is Geralt," the figure rasped. "I'm here about your posting."

Kelsey thought for a moment.

"Oh," he said. "You mean the thing about my homework?"

Geralt nodded grimly.

"Basically, I'm pretty busy basically all the time," Kelsey began to explain.

Geralt, still listening, began to prowl about the room.

"I've got a ton of homework - being a student, as I am - and sometimes, especially in the wrong conditions, I have a hard time getting it done," Kelsey continued.

Geralt looked at a shelf. There was an apple there. Then there wasn't.

"Of course, when I don't get my work done, it tends to pile up," Kelsey said with chagrin.

Geralt paused by Kelsey's desk. A pile of loose change vanished.

"And, well, over the last few days - I didn't get my work done at all!" Kelsey said.

Geralt examined a pile of clothes near the foot of Kelsey's bed. Half a wheel of Roquefort cheese seemed to be buried within. It vanished into Geralt's copious pockets.

"So, naturally, it mutated and transformed into a hideous homework-monster, and now it lurks within our garage, emerging at night to attempt to eat us," Kelsey concluded.

Geralt turned back to Kelsey. "An Ijjurdant," he rasped. "Vulnerable to fire, silver, and mold. Slow-moving, but deadly when provoked. I'll want $50."

"It's vulnerable to money?" Kelsey asked.

"My payment," Geralt growled.

"That's kinda a lot," Kelsey said. "I mean, I have an allowance, but..."

Geralt gave him a gimlet-eyed glare - the effect, perhaps, somewhat reduced by the dim lighting, but palpable nonetheless.

"Okay," Kelsey said. "When you get it done."

"I'll be back," Geralt rasped, and left.

Outside, behind the garage, Geralt contemplated his arsenal. From a pouch on his belt, he drew a small vial; he uncorked it, and then swiftly downed the contents. He stood a moment longer; then entered the garage, movements swift and precise.

Half an hour passed.

Geralt, covered in blood and ichor, emerged. In one hand he held a slime-covered sword; in the other, the soot-blackened, severed head of the Ijjurdant.

Kelsey was there waiting for him - along with his father and brothers. All were tensed, waiting.

Geralt ignored them. "My money," he demanded in his tortured voice, dropping the Ijjurdant on the ground and extending a hand.

Kelsey's father spoke in response. "We don't need to pay you anything, Witcher. Move along."

Geralt looked at them.

After a moment, he spoke.

"On my body, I carry two swords, an axe, a dagger, and various magic potions. I was genetically modified for improved skill at combat - then mutated, for the same - then spent the better part of two decades either training for combat or engaging in it. Also, I have telekinetic powers. You have?"

Kelsey's family huddled. After a minute's hushed, but intense discussion, they emerged with a consensus: "An excellent knowledge of programming!"

"That might have been useful if you'd used it to build a giant robot to fight me," Geralt rasped. "As it is, it's pretty useless."

Geralt considered.

"...you didn't build a giant robot."

"Did you?"

There was silence from Kelsey & company.

Then, belatedly, Kelsey answered:

"...yeah, I guess not."

"We totally should!" Kelsey's younger brother opined.

Geralt indicated his outstretched hand; reluctantly, Kelsey handed over the amount demanded.

Geralt cast one last look at the Kelsey-tribe; then stalked away, into the everpresent night.

Another episode in the grim life of Geralt, the White Wolf*!

*(Also, Kelsey, who has problems with homework sometimes.)

A Story for Kessler

Mr. Zhang sat. He rocked back and forth, he hummed a little tune. And he thought. He thought, he thought, he thought - oh, how his brow furrowed in concentration! For he was thinking, you see.

He was thinking of a story.

Now, you may fairly ask, whyever did he wish to write a story? We all know that Zhangs are never for frivolous tasks of any sort. No sir! Serious folk are they, ever with their noses to the grinding-razor and their feet on the ground. (Not in the clouds.) So if this Mr. Zhang was attempting to create a story, then it certainly must be for some very important reason! And indeed it was.

A Kelsey had asked him!

Now, we all know of the historical dependence existing between the tribe of the Kelseys and the tribe of the Zhangs. While the Kelseys frolick, the Zhangs work; while the Zhangs despair, the Kelseys delight. The one would be helpless without the other; or, if not helpless, then much less happy! So they are always very kind to one-another, and try to help each-other in every way they can, as every person should.

So Mr. Zhang thought. He thought and thought and thought. But he had no idea of what to write! He was just a Zhang. He could not do this on his own!

"It's okay!" the Kelsey said to him. "I believe in you!"

Then Mr. Zhang wrote a story!

It went something like this:

"il y avait une fois, il y eut un bonhomme qui s'appella Nikoulas. Tous les matins lorsqu'il se reveillait il trouva une femme différent dans son lit, donc quelqu'un peut-être l'appelle un "pimpe", ou un "joueur". Il s'avéra qu'il était en ma classe, à l'université. Aussi, il y eut une femme, qui était belle, et chaude, et fraîche. j'allai en classe et il y eut ce bonhomme et il me disait,

"mon gars, tu ne devrais pas avoir des relations sexuelles avec cette femme ,parce que ,j'eus déjà des relations sexuelles avec elle,et je lui donna une malade sexuellement transmissible."

Et ensuite, car cela, je me fâchai, et je le frappai. Et puis, je utilisai mon pouvoir magiques pour le tuer."

The Kelsey was right to believe in him! And they were both happy forever.

The end!

The Amazing Kelsey

Kelsey - friend to all, be they harmless rabbit, hapless peasant, or high-ranking aristocracy! Kelsey - lord of the wise, wisest of the lords! Kelsey - some people claim that he has a girl's name! (How indescribably rude!)

May I present to you today... the edifice erected to celebrate his iron-fisted, thousand-year reign over our people...

THE AMAZING KELSEY!


Constructed by the master craftsman D. Zhang, widely heralded as the capstone of his efforts, this immense mechanism took over nine years to construct - even with the assistance of Mr. Zhang's many descendants, themselves well known for their skills in the art. Nine thousand gears were used in its making; fifteen hundred flywheels; two hundred thousand chain links. It is a marvel of the world. But - not only for its appearance, but for what it does!

Watch in awe as he fires his powerful missiles - launching them from his totem-pole-like body at ultra-high velocities! Thrill to the massive delta-vees as their flame-exhausts propel them to the farthest horizon! Laugh delightedly as the missiles utterly destroy several nearby buildings, until you realize that they weren't props, and a number of homes and buildings were just annihilated with high explosives!

Wait.

Hm.

We'll get back to you on that one.

But until then, enjoy...

The Amazing Kelsey!

Logic

Let us have some Kelsey k. This we know about Kelsey: he is love. Formally, this may be expressed as: k≡L, for L as love.

Let us also have some David d. David, of course, is the opposite of Kelsey; he is the anti-Kelsey. We may express this as d≡~k.

At this point, the power of logic already - with such a small number of propositions - allows us to reach conclusions! The transitive property allows us to equate d as d≡~L; David is the antithesis of love! A valid conclusion, well supported by everyday evidence. What power this has!

Let's try another simple exercise. Let there be some Nikolas n. Now, a Nikolas is of course the opposite of David: n≡~d. Again using the transitive property, we may quickly determine that n≡~~L; or, using the double-negative property, n≡L. Like the Kelsey, the Nikolas is love! What a wonderful thing to discover!

Now let's try something more complex. Assume there is one room being describe. The presence of David in that room may be described as d, to continue our previous convention; the presence of Nikolas in the room is n, and the presence of a Kelsey will be called k. Ryan T. will be described by r, and attractive persons of a female persuasion as w.

Now, a Ryan is followed everywhere he goes by females; therefore, we may say that r→w, or that the presence of a Ryan in the room implies the presence of females also present. A David is terrified by females, and will go nowhere near them; we may thus continue by saying that d→~w, or the presence of a David in the room implies the absence of females. Using the transitive property, we may comment as an aside that r→~d, or d→~r; they cannot be in the same room, at least for long, a fact which (as a further aside) causes the illustrious d no end of jealousy.

Now, we may establish more facts. The Kelsey, as a Kelsey, follows the David wheresoever he may go; thus, d→k. The Nikolas is friends with Kelsey and David, and will be present when- and wheresoever the both of them are; k∧d→n. This last statement, the trained logician will note, is exactly equivalent to replacing the earlier d→k with d→k∧n.

We have learned many things from this! We have learned that wheresoever a David goes, so does a Kelsey and a Nikolas; we have learned that Davids cannot be found in the same room as Ryans. As we add more propositions, we may learn more; for instance, a simple addition of a Devin to the simulation (included in the appendix) immediately creates a sort of "Mormon Invasion" of any room; but even this simple model teaches us so much. Enjoy - the power of logic!

Contagion

We did not know why he came here.

His clothes were yellow, like those of the hazmat teams. He breathed shallowly, and was certain always to keep his face covered. The light was behind him - we could not see even what little of his face he was forced to leave exposed. This, we thought, he fully intended.

For fully twenty minutes, he stood there, watching, as we waited for something - anything - to happen. He responded to nothing we said, nothing we did, save when we tried to get too close to him - then he moved one arm sharply, making a barking noise. We kept our distance.

Another man came.

He, too, covered his face, but was less astute in his use of the light - we could see his eyes, pure black, entirely devoid of pupils. If at the coming of the first man we were afraid, now we were terrified; if the first man's clothing suggested a hazmat-suit, then this man's clothes suggested those of the undertaker.

We were contaminated, the second man told us, his voice dry and devoid of intonation. We had sinned - on this point, he was certain we would know to what he referred - and for our sins, we must be punished.

Then the first man came for us - roaring, screaming, frothing at the mouth. We screamed, fled; he hunted us down. We had no chance against his brutal strength.

We were transformed into elk.

Only as elk, the second man told us, could we be redeemed for our sins. We knew it was true.

So now we roam across the tundra of the arctic North, antlers held high. No more are we plagued by guilt for the sins we committed in our past lives. We are absolved; and we are elk.

This, we know, is life as it should be.

Become an elk today.

Nikolas Feverpost

Nikolas says: Coming down with a fever. No blagopost of note.

Compensationsong:

ONCE UPON A TIME THERE WAS A KELSEY

HIS PLUMAGE WAS A-BRIGHTER THAN THE DAWN

HE LEAPT INTO THE AIR

STRAIGHTENED HIS HAIR

AND HE SANG

AND HE SANG

AND HE SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG

(...saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang...)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Due to contemporaneous internet difficulties, this post has been posted FROM THE FUTURE - the listed date is when it was written, not posted. Thank you for your concern.

The Nikolas Agenda

The Nikolas Agenda is, by all reports, unspeakable.

So let's say no more of it!

Instead, we will discuss other agendas.

The Kelsey Agenda:

-Love

The Ethan Agenda:

- See "Kelsey", above
- Sudden, unprovoked violence
- Physical
- Verbal
- See "Kelsey", above

The Mormon Agenda:

- Joseph Smith
- Brigham Young
- Le-hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

The Zhang Agenda:

-Pedophilia
-Incest
-Rage at accurate descriptions of self
-Stalking

We hope this has been an education! Also, we hope that David doesn't injure himself in his standard fit after seeing something like this.

We hope a lot of things.

It's all part of...

The Nikolas Agenda!