The Heroic Dr. Zhang

The time: THE GRIM DARKNESS OF THE FAR FUTURE.

WORLD CHAOS unleashed by AGITATING ANARCHISTS and RAMPAGING ROGUE ROBOTS has PARALYZED governments ACROSS the GLOBE. In the confusion, ONE MAN has risen to power: the terrible NIKOLAS, whose name is TERROR and whose word is DEATH. NONE stand to oppose him...

NONE, that is, save DR. ZHANG, BRILLIANT SURGEON and LONE HERO. Forsaking friendship and even love for his mission, he hunts NIKOLAS with an undiluted passion; the PEOPLE cheer and shelter him, and the minions of NIKOLAS fear him. POLYMATH and WARRIOR with skills BEYOND COMPARE, he is not only the sole man who dares oppose NIKOLAS; he is the only one who CAN.

And TODAY...

YOU can step into his shoes!

CLICK HERE, UNZIP the FILES, and RENAME the ".py_" file to ".py". MAC users should then open it with the PYTHON LAUNCHER, in their PYTHON DIRECTORY; WINDOWS users need only DOUBLE-CLICK IT. (No idea about Linux people.) And - SIMPLE AS THAT* - YOU will be in the shoes of the great hero DR. ZHANG! FRABJULOUS DAY!



Happy birthday, Mr. Zhang! and many more...




*Assuming you already have a Python 2.6 install on your machine. But that's easy - hardly worth mentioning!

The Spirit of the Forest

Ally walked through the densely crowded forest in search of the spirit apparition that they told her would appear any minute now. Then, suddenly in a puff of smoke there appeared a most fantastic creature, who was half-man, and half-spirit, and he hovered before her. He stroked his ghostly moustache and beard. He proclaimed, "I am The Honourable GEORGE AIRY, THE AIRY FAIRY, the gouerner of the peesefull lande, upon whych thou steppest, ande what busness hast though herre, I aske." Ally said, "Sureley youe mouste bee the one who they hauth procklaimed to bee the great visionery of the forreste, who speakes the truthe, and predychts the futture, and who whisperres sage advise, unto the loust soules of the whorlde, and who tells of the pathes of the righteousse, I come herre to seke the knowlege of the ancyent ones, telle me the moste wysely advise of your greate wyssdomme." And then the Forest Spirit said, "I wille doe this thynge whych you aske of mee, butte I must teste your whorthienesse with a ryddle, which I speke unto you thusley: I seke a functione, of which the propperties are as folloues. Whan thou takest the deryvative of that functione, and then henceforthe take againe the deryvative of that resultante, then thou subtractest the function in it self, multiply'd by the variabble it taketh, in its foulde, then that answer must be nulle, and noughte, and not summe to any noumber, be it realle, or fancifulle, or imagyn'd in the myndes of Mankinde. That is the ryddle I deliever unto thoue."

Then Ally took some time to ponder this riddle, and walked around the forest for a while, and at last, she believed she arrived at a reasonable answer. She approached the forest spirit and said, "O greate spirite, I belieue that I haue solv'd the greate ryddle, which thou hast poused unto mee, and the function that you seke, cannote be written as in the mannere of ordinry noumbers, or lettres, as thouse of a manne, in the prynting presses, but in the mannere of one who can imagyne the infynite, that which stretches as a stryng, or a lengthe of corde, or rhope, or a twine, or a vyne, or a roote, or a branche, or a leafe, unto the realmes of the unknowne, and this shall be a summe of many thynges, not singulere in natuur, and the summe shall be comprysed of 2 summes, that are segregated from one another, and that are dystinct in natuur, and the first summe shall be wrytten as one, added to the third pouer of the variable, which be devided by the product of three, and two, and then this shall be added yette again, to the sixth pouer of the variable, which doth be devided by the producte of two, and three, and fyve, and sex, but notte four, and then this shalle bee added to the ninth pouer of the variable, whence devided by the prouduct of two, and three, and fyve, and sex, and aight, and nyn, but not four, norre seuen, and so on, unto the darke realmes of the mysteriousse.

When the spirit heard this, and confirmed it as the correct solution, he laughed evilly, and he proclaimed, "Foole! Now you haue told me all I kneed to know, about the most fancifulle functions, that I shalle publishe it onder my owne name, and I shall become famovs ouer it, and counquer the whorlde of mathematicks." And then Ally said, "What a rude beaste you are, houeuer, thou hast promysed me the prophesy and the wysdom advise, that you keepe, and I shall lyke to knowe it nowe." And the spirit said, "Indeede, I shall say that to you, beinge a manne of my worde, and that the advise that I render unto you shall bee as folloues: That you shall go unto your classes at the Universyty, and you shall go to the manne, who is in the class of Physick, and who grows a bearde, which is blacke as coale, and who smelles of chese, and haue sexuelle relationes with himme, and it shall be pleasureable, and goode, in the eyes of the Lord, and all shall be ryght with the worlde." And then the spirit disappeared in a puff of smoke, to publish his findings, and the next day, Ally went to class as usual, and she did what the forest spirit told her, and everything worked out pretty well, and that was the end of that.

tales of woe and despair

like the sinking

upon the wave fronts of

the travelling oceanic currents

that drag along with them

the lycht at the ende of the tunnel

from that comes

the black

pool

of deadly sins

and our

past

like a journey to the centre of the earth

that dives ever further down

and never comes up for

a breath

of air

and that festers

in the bowels

of hell

and takes upon

its broken back

the signs

of the moon and the sun

and that makes the tides in the ocean

that drag along with them

the lycht at the ende of the tunnel

Infiniminer

(Not the game.)

Once, there was a man. Every day, he would go to the coal mines, and mine coal dust. Then he would bring the coal dust back home, and feed it to his furnace, to warm his house. This is what he did every day.

One day, though, he mined magic coal dust by mistake. And when he fed it into his furnace, it turned into a giant bird monster. It had ten wings, each of a different colour; it stood on seven talons, and its five heads each bore three beaks. Also, it was on fire.

It looked upon the man, and reached down, and ate him, and excreted him; and then it did this again, for each of its beaks. And when it was done, it told Nikolas (for Nikolas the man was), "You will die tomorrow."

And he did.

THE END

(Another contribution from the amazing Dr. Zhang, whose works never fail to inspire and astonish.)

The Great Beard-Theft

The man awoke slowly; groggily. He attempted to rub his eyes, and found that he could not. He tried again; then with his other arm. But he seemed unable to make his hands move.

Provoked by this unusual contingency, the man opened his eyes. Immediately, he was blinded by a bright white light; his eyelids snapped shut like twin turtles, and then slowly reopened. A shape resolved; but blurry, so blurry! If only he could rub his eyes!

But even sans eye-rubbing, the shape he saw became presently clear. It was a man - a man with a beard - a Nikolas. This caused our protagonist some consternation; this consternation he expressed in a vocalization, namely, "But I'm Nikolas!" The sound of his voice was alien to him; the self-claimed Nikolas recoiled, as best he could while bound to an operating table. This was all terribly wrong!

He was in someone else's body - the Zhang's! The Zhang had stolen his body!

"Worse than that!" the Nikolas-in-Zhang cried. "You've stolen my beard!"

Mr. Zhang, contained within Mr. Nikolas's body, finished the notes he had been taking. Then, stroking his beard lovingly, he pressed a button on a nearby console and walked away. Helpfully, the console displayed a message in large print: squinting, the Nikolas-in-Zhang could just barely read it. "LOBOTOMY PROCEDURE INITIATED," it read. "LOBOTOMY WILL COMMENCE IN 278 SECONDS."

"You magnficent bastard!" the Nikolas-in-Zhang shouted at the receding Zhang-in-Nikolas's back. "You think you can get away with this? You think you can steal my beard and use it for your womon-baiting schemes? I'll get you for this! I'll get you! Just you wait!"

"LOBOTOMY WILL COMMENCE IN 263 SECONDS," the console display helpfully informed the Nikolas-in-Zhang.

"All right," the Nikolas-in-Zhang said to himself, his voice not entirely calm. "Gotta stay rational, gotta think my way out of this. My hands and legs are bound; I can't seem to loosen them at all. Can I? No. Okay. Okay. It's cool. It's totally fine. I can work with this. I can - I've got my mouth, right? Not gagged. So... Can I gnaw my way through the bonds? I'll try. Just gotta turn my head - yeah - now bite - ow! - bite the knot..."

A brief silence followed.

"Man, that tastes disgusting," the Nikolas-in-Zhang opined; though he continued to gnaw nonetheless.

Minute after minute passed. Nikolas-in-Zhang loosed his left shoulder-binding; arm-binding; wrist-binding. "All right!" he crowed, waving his free arm wildly. "Now I can really get somewhere! How much time do I have left?"

"LOBOTOMY WILL COMMENCE IN 5 SECONDS," the readout read.

The Nikolas-in-Zhang paused.

"Er. This kinda sucks," he noted.

Elsewhere, a pair of Nikolases met. They appeared remarkably similar, differing only in clothing and beard-length.

"Hey!" the longer-bearded Nikolas said to the other. "Just decanted a new clone?"

A scream sounded in the distance, abruptly cut off.

"Yeah," the shorter-bearded Nikolas said. "Gonna go out on the town, see if this beard can work some magic on a womon. She answered my email, you know. (I think she hates me.)"

"Good luck with that," the long-bearded Nikolas replied.

The shorter-bearded Nikolas - who was, of course, Zhang-in-Nikolas - nodded glumly and made to leave.

The long-bearded Nikolas stopped him. "I know you're just harvesting the Nikolas-clones so that you can use their beards, because you've been unable to successfully isolated the beard," the long-bearded Nikolas said. "But have you ever considered that it might be a bit - unethical?"

Zhang-in-Nikolas shrugged. "They're just Nikolases," he said, and walked away.

Long-bearded Nikolas nodded, bemused; then stopped. A look of concern appeared on his face. "I'm just a Nikolas!" he realized out-loud.

This could be a problem! Long-beard Nikolas knew he should really do something about it.

So he solved the problem the Nikolas way. He played video-games until he forgot about it!

Based on a true story.

Little Nikolas: Epilog

Little Nikolas woke up the next day, bright and early. He smiled at the day, innocently, adjusted Samhadriel's seat (left somewhat too high by yesterday's repairs), and set off again. Within fifteen seconds, he heard a rather loud noise.

"Your back tire's got a flat," a helpful passerby informed little Nikolas.

Nikolas thanked her politely, then, wearily, began walking his bike once again to the bike shop.

The end.

Little Nikolas and his Bicycle Dilemma

Once upon a time, there was a teeny-tiny Nikolas. He was just a little creature - so young, so innocent! He was friend to man and beast alike, and cherished every gift he recieved dearly, but there was one thing he loved above all others: his bicycle, Samhadriel, swifter than the wind, stronger than the sun. It was his steed and companion in all matters; so naturally it distressed him to no end when he came to it one bright Saturn's-Day morning to find its front tire flattened, distended, punctured.

Little Nikolas was quite alarmed. He fetched his bicycle-pump immediately, so that he might re-inflate the tire; but the air all leaked out, and green goo oozed out along with it! This was even worse. Nikolas called out to all his friends, exclaiming the particulars of his woe to them; but all they could tell him was what he already knew to do. Go to the bike store, to get a new tire; an eventuality which would have to wait, for the bike shop was closed for the week-end.

The next two days were, for our poor Nikolas, bleak, cold, empty. Without bold Samhadriel at his side, Nikolas was perpetually lonely; tears flowed freely, on a regular basis. But at last he was free from classes, on a scorchingly hot Monday afternoon; he had a lab at 5 pm, but it was an hour and a half until then, so he had no concern on the matter. Achingly slowly, he walked Samhadriel to the bicycle shop, relentlessly oppressed by the powerful rays of the sun. The tire was removed; its replacement was emplaced, over a long ten minutes. (It seemed to be fighting the bicycle-shop-man, named Ian, fifth-year Lit major, by some - perhaps the green ooze was ectoplasm?) But then he receieved worse news.

"What?" I hear you cry. "Worse news? How could this be?" But it was indeed.

His rear wheel was out of true - and it would take until 5 to fix it!

Forlornly, Nikolas agreed to this. He idled, walking here and there, pondering the nature of remarkably short shorts (do they have a name?), purchasing pencils and pens. Then he returned, at five-to-four. The bike was there - but still under repair - for there was yet more!

"More?" you cry. "More?" Yes. More.

The reason the wheel had gone out of true, you see, is because one of the spokes had been damaged - nay - destroyed! So that of course needed replacement. (This had been accomplished.) But the reason that the spoke had been damaged, in all likelihood, was because the rack on the rear of the Nikolas's bike was rubbing against the wheel - dreadful thought! - quite possibly because of the asymmetric weight of the basket attached to the rack which, by the way, had rusted nearly solid, owing to its out-doors confinement.

Oh, woe to poor Samhadriel! Woe!

Repairs were swiftly made - little Nikolas paid the bill, half-emptying his little wallet - to think, $30, from a trip to fix a flat tire! - and sped off, racing to his laboratorium. He was late, of course, but the lab was late as well - it being for a class that was rather poorly organized. And his rack sat in the bicycle shop, abandoned; for, of course, the only way for little Nikolas to transport an object as large as the rack would be on the rack itself.

Weep for Nikolas!

So dark are his sorrows, all else must pale before them.

(But at least Samhadriel is all right in the end.)

Nikolas and the Octopoids

Nikolas was concerned.

He was being menaced!

Not by the octopoids, mind you. They were perfectly peaceful - friendly, even! They were currently helping Nikolas erect a barricade. With their many arms and queer, glowing tendrils, they were quite swift in their work - faster than Nikolas himself!

(What are the octopoids, you ask? Why, they're much like octopuses. They have eight arms, colour-changing skin, and eyes that are the right way around, unlike ours. The only difference is that they migrated to the Pripyat area shortly before 1986, and therefore stand eight feet tall (on average) and are covered in strange, glowing tendrils.)

(Lovely people, really.)

But Nikolas was still quite concerned, being a Nikolas. The main reason for this was the squid. It had been harassing him for some days, provoking his move to take shelter among the noble octopoids. Right now, it was breaking down the barricade in the entrance to the cave.

"All right," Nikolas said, steeling himself for battle. He picked up an aluminium spear in his hand, clumsy in the armoured diving suit with which he had equipped himself. "It'll break through in moments, so we'll all have to mob it at once, or we'll all be eaten. Giant squid do that, you know."

Crash!

The octopoids fanned out, forming a half-circle around the barricade. Glowing spores drifted from their tendrils. (This meant they were nervous.)

Crash!

"We attack on three."

"One."

Crash!

"Two."

Crash - and the squid was in, hideous face clear, tentacles and arms whipping wildly behind!

"Three!"

Nikolas and the octopoids charged, weapons upraised. Their courage was unmatched, even in the face of their abject terror at the sight of the Giant Squid - but then a cry - one single word - halted them in their tracks. (They skidded.)

"Love!" the Squid shouted joyously.

Why, it wasn't a squid at all!

It was a Kelsey!

Who could have guessed?

Nikolas was very embarrased afterwards.

Then they ate scones and hamentashen.

The End!

Nikolas Essays (to Save the Day)

Nikolas rode through the snow-filled mountain pass, his trusty grass-mud-horse Crabkiller as swift and silent as the wind. "Ride, Crabkiller!" Nikolas urged. "Ride! We must be through the pass before nightfall."

The weather was cold; the air's chill, carried on a stiff mountain breeze, seemed to pierce directly through the many layers of scarves and thick clothing Nikolas wore. He shivered, put his head to Crabkiller's neck for the warmth; then, startled, he looked up. Had he seen something just there, masked by the snow carried on the wind? He had. It was a guard!

Armoured in blue, the guard stood square athwart the center of the pass. A long polearm of some sort - perhaps a pike - occupied his hands; this he turned sideways as Nikolas approached, blocking the trail. Matching his helmet admirably, the guard's face was also a lovely shade of blue; but this did not stop him from calling out in a deep, booming voice. "You Shall Not Pass!" he proclaimed; and Nikolas, feeling it to be the path of politeness, obligingly came to a halt just short of the guard's pike.

"Why?" Nikolas asked.

The guard examined him for some time. It is possible that this question had never been asked of him before.

Crabkiller tossed her head and snorted. Snow was starting to collect above her nostrils.

"I don't like you," the guard finally decided.

Nikolas was somewhat perplexed. "I've known you for a span of thirty seconds, now, and said one word prior to this," he said. "What possible reason could you have for this distaste?"

The guard considered the matter again.

"I don't like your face," he clarified.

Nikolas frowned. "That is a remarkably poor reason," he said. "Nonetheless: let me attempt to mollify you. I notice that you seem to be suffering from some form of hypothermia; and I currently possess a surplus of scarves, certainly far in excess of your tally of zero. I will give you one, and you will kindly allow me to pass."

"No," the guard replied.

"Fine," Nikolas sighed. "Two. But that's the limit of my kindness."

"I want your horse," the guard said.

"What?" Nikolas said. "You can't be serious."

"I want your horse," the guard repeated.

"Look," Nikolas said reasonably. "Firstly, Crabkiller is not a horse. She's a grass-mud-horse, a species of alpaca. Secondly, she's my only means of transportation; were I to give her to you, I would be forced to travel on foot, utterly dooming my mission. (I'm carrying a message that will save the Kingdom, by the way.) Thirdly, you don't even have any use for her. You're a guard. You stand around all day. What would you even do with her?"

The guard was unmoved.

"All right," Nikolas sighed. "Enough. I want you to consider some facts. You see your pike there?"

"Yeah," the guard grunted.

"How long would you say it is?" Nikolas asked.

The guard looked at it.

"About ten feet," he decided.

"It's closer to twelve, but whatever," Nikolas said obligingly. "Now, let's look at this path. About how wide is it?"

The guard looked around. His eyes widened. "Hey!" he cried and turned back to Nikolas -

- but Nikolas was already gone, off and away on noble Crabkiller's back.

Yay for Nikolas!

Now he'll save the day!

nikolas-style story : Robots and Wizzards

The City. The day is 2400. In the building there are some robots being made, there names are not names, but they are numbers, because it is the futur. There is a man with a eyepach, and a long, grey beard, who looks at the robots forlornly, and he thinks, that the robots are evil, because they are bad. He is also a wizzard. This is because he knows how to use the elements of magic. Also, the planet they are on is not in this Sector, it is in a Different Sector, this sector also has not a name, it has a number, because it is the futur. There are trees that are growing up from the ground, and they have magic that flows outside of them, so people who are wizzards can go up to a tree and take it into their fingers, and shoot it at people. This works, because it is the futur. However, people on the city do not use magic, they drive cars that are made of steam, and helicopters, that are made of steam, and they wear clothes, and all the buildings are round, instead of rectangular, this is because it is the futur. 

The old man is named Razkolnikov, people think that this is a strange name, but it is not, because it is the futur. He goes into the corporate headquarters, of the company that produces the Robots, and he talks to the President of the company. He says, "The robot is Evil. It must not be produce, because it steal the magic from the tree that grow upon the Planet. You care all about is moneys, not peoples and trees, so you are evil." The President retorts sharply. "The Wizzards are evil. They take the magic from tree and shoot it at people. This is bad thing, because people is being kill. So robot not kill a man, it was said by a man who wrote a Law of Robot, 400 year ago." They look each other in the eye with fervour, and a rage that is very intense. Then the President says, you must be destroyed, because the wizzards are bad people. He calls in two burlesque security guards, who take guns in their hands, and robots that look like a monkey on their shoulder, which throws lasers on to Razkolnikoff, but he shoots a water element from his hand, because he can use the magic. The water is the opposite of a laser, so they are cancelced. Raskolikov says, "Ha. Ha! Mr President. You cannot use power of a robot against the magic. The magic is strong because it come from Plante." President then says: "Curses! Cruise you Raskolnikoff, you are a bad man." Razkolnikov says, "No! You are a Bad man!" Then he takes a fire element from his hand and shoots it at the monkeys and they are disintegreted, because fire element is the opposite of the metal element, so they canceled. Also, Raskolnikov is the leader of the wizzards.

Suddenly, a Robot comes off the assembly line. The robot is bad, because one of its silicones was not designed properly, and it became evil. The robot says, "Now I will kill all of you, because it is what a Robot supposed to do." They say: "No! Robot is not supposed to kill people." But it is too late, because the robot shoots a laser from his laser beam, and it deflects off of the mirror on the wall, but, since all the Buildings are Round, in the futur, it Deflects all over the place. Raskolnikov shoots a ice element from his hand, because of the Ice was the opposite of the laser element. This is how magic works. It covers the room, and destroys many things, but it cancels the laser. However, one of the security guards was in the way, and it hit him on the Brain, and it kills him. "No!" the President says, "Do not die." However, he is dead. 

Razkolnikov says, "People should not shoot people with magic, because if you are shoot with a magic, and then you are kill. People die when they are killed." Then the President says, "Maybe A robot is not safe as we think. Robot can be dangerous if they kill people, because people die if robot kill them." Then there is a conference, and there is a Robot Corporation, and the High Wizzards, and they said, that it was bad to kill people, so they stopped using the Robots, and they took the magic from the Trees, and they used it to fight Globel Warming, and it was good. 

Obamablag

In this post: Obama comes to visit!

Obama came to visit today!

"Hello, Nikolas," he said in his deep, strong voice. "I'm just here to visit."

"I'm very glad to meet you, Mr. President!" I told him, shaking his hand vigorously.

"I'm going to be here for an hour - want to play some Brawl?" he asked, gesturing towards the television.

We did!

He thunder-spammed with Pikachu. It was dreadful. (I coped.)

After a while things became less cool. "I'm not really a fan of duels in Brawl," I said. "Might we add some bots?"

"Why not let Biden play?" Obama asked.

It was Vice President Biden! He was here too.

Biden played Sonic! Strange but true. It takes all kinds to make a viable modern presidency, I guess.

Then former president George W. Bush burst in the door! "That's it!" he cried. "I'm out of office now, and I'll be darned if you lot don't pass me a Wavebird this instant!"

I shrugged and handed him one. (Taft was disappointed when he came in later and found there were no controllers left. We had to trade-off.)

And that's how I spent my afternoon today!

A DAIMONE

NINE TAILS IT HAD, AND FIFTEEN FANG-TONGUES

IN A HUNDRED HUNDRED HIDEOUS TONGUES IT GIBBERED, AND ITS WORDS WERE THOSE OF MADNESS

IT CAME UPON A YOUNG MAN ONCE (PITY HIM; OH, PITY!)

THIS IS WHAT IT DID

AT FIRST, IT EMBRACED HIM, OFFERING KIND WORDS

"LOVE ME" IT COMMANDED

"LOVE ME"

THEN IT BEGAN TO TRANSFORM

HIDEOUS SPIKES GREW FROM ITS FOREHEAD

ITS BEARD GREW

AND GREW

AND GREW

THEN IT STABBED THE YOUNG MAN THROUGH THE THROAT

AND KILLED HIM

LESSON: BEWARE OF NIKOLASES, FOR THEY ARE VILE AND EVIL BOTH

ALSO

THEY HAVE BEARDS

(OH NOOOOOOO)

Old Mr. Nicholoose

Who wouldn't like the idea of "ftwww" as a sound effect?

Old Mr. Nicholoose

he is a grump

and he bumps

into people

at the mall

people whom he knew during his college years

but whose names he'd forgotten by the time that he was Old

and he gives them nicknames based on the traits of theirs that he remembers

and they are like "wut"

and he says "Oh, you didn't know?

"We always called you that when you weren't around.

"But it was pretty much teasing.

"Not to make fun of you.

"It was ironic!

"Ironic is the word I would use.

"Ah, those were the days...

"Anyway, I should go.

"You should call me sometime!"

and then he would leave

before the person could inform him that the person did not have his telephone-number

but of course he knew that

because he did not have a telephone

because he grew up in a family with fifteen children

and the phone always rang

and it was always for someone else

but he always picked it up anyway

in the hope

that someone would care about him

(and express this care by telephoning him)

(even though he had never told anyone his telephone number in those days either)

(because no-one had ever asked for it)

(and he knew this)

(but he never gave up hope)

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!

Day of Malaise

This is what happened to a Nikolas yesterday!

PROLOGUE:

9:15 PM: Re-entered his suite-haus, meeting three fellows playing "beer pong" in the common room. One of them - "Eric" - remarked with surprise on meeting the Nikolas - "Chronicles of Desmond, right? That stuff's great!" Hm.

11 PM. Attempt to sleep.

YESTERDAY.

1 AM: Wake up. Drink water. Sleep.

4 AM: Wake up. Drink water. Sleep.

5 AM: Wake up. Eat a handful of stale Triscuits to try to curb gnawing hunger. Vomit. Vomit again. Eat Ritz-crackers. Sleep.

8:40 AM: Wake up. (Woken by iPhone alarm.) Go to the bathroom. Find self locked out of room.

9 AM-11 AM: Lie on couch in common room, drink water, shiver with fever and strange aches. (Aforementioned Eric provides invaluable help; medicine, water, french fries.)

11 AM: Let back into room by helpful college-admin-student-person.

11:30 AM through 4:30 PM: Lie in bed, rocking back and forth; occasionally self-administer Tylenol.

4:30 PM: Sleep.

7:30 PM: Wake up. Rush over to visit cafeteria (opened at 5 PM) before it closes. Eat most of a hot dog, then throw it up outside. (Mortifying; no-one saw, thankfully.) The first thing resembling a meal for the Nikolas in more than 24 hours.

8 PM: Purchase supplies at general store: Advil, more Tylenol, sodas, crackers and toaster-pastries. Retire again to bed.

What a lovely day, eh?

Today's been much better!

nikolas-post II: The Epilous

cont.

Suddently our hero Nikoauls awoke up from his terible dream. And to think that he was only 2 metres from the baseline. Oh , well . He said to him self : "After that eximination I must go up to the girl and apologise for my barbaric. " . He went up to her after  school. And he said "hey baby . It looks like my bed is awfel cold at nite  , Let's us come in there toegther and be hot . " She looked at him with a disgusts . She said . "Okay" Just let me get my frock coat. And she trawmbled off in to the distiance. Nikolalaus went to bed very sad that nite , because he thought that he becavied poorly to the girl in question . Howver. Suddently, he heard a knowking song at his door. It turned out to be sher. She said. "I came as fast is I could. " Nikalas said,"that's what she said" But he didnt' say that out aloud. They retired to the bedchambre . Happy end ! ! !

nikolas-post

David Zhang: 1. Two posts a day, every day; just as the ancients might have wished it!

Nicholas Feinberg: It was more of a hope than anything else.

Nicholas Feinberg: I am planning to post some-time tonight.

Nicholas Feinberg: But I did not anticipate achieving that goal _on my own_.

Nicholas Feinberg: You must blag, too!

David Zhang: ok

David Zhang: what should i blog abou

Nicholas Feinberg: love

Nicholas Feinberg: and

Nicholas Feinberg: a nikolaus

Nicholas Feinberg: and

Nicholas Feinberg: msr. ballos

One day there was a nikolas , he lived in a house. a nikolaus-hous . Then he was assaulted 비 비 beard. bears. whoa, there is only a 1-lettre diference , I bet you didn't know that ? 페닛

Who was mrs. ballos ? ? I dont know , I guess he was a a hot womon.  O, maybe she was that girl from the nikolas-school that he always has sex with. or he talks to her a lot , one or the other.  

Ok ok, so one day a nikolaus was in school, in his dormotory. He went to bead extra early because he had an eximanation the next day , of his orifices. So he was in bed at like 5:00 p.m. Suddently he was awake by a terrilbe crash. it was the sound of the door knowcking. He got up and looked to see was who wat the door.  It was that girl that he sometimes talked to , it was a nikolaus victory. ! ! She said to him him, my bed is so cold at nite , Let's us come on into you'rs and be hot  ;) So he said, "Okay" and they did that. Then She said, "Well we are in here already we should have sex." So he "Okay" He licked himself in sordid anticipation. 

He was about to for the 1st time go up to her and have sex with her , he stepped up to the plate, and was 3 metres away from the baseline. Then he was assaulted by bears, beards, and bear-beards. the end

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.

Sardine Hunt

Another contribution from the most eminent Dr. Zhang.

well

you hitched up the old bottom trawler

and took it to a small island

off the coast

of italy

and fished for sardines

afterwards

you sold most of them at the market

but kept some

and salted and preserved them

and then you cut them up and filleted them

and made a lovely and hearty stew

that you served to your hot neighbour

in the villa

across from you

and she was very impressed

afterwards

you took out some of the wine that you had been making

with some grapes

you got from the local vineyard

and you kept them in a jar on your terraza

and you took some cheese

from your root cellar

that you made from the goat's milk

which you got by bartering with the local goatherder

with some fresh sardines

you had left over

you left it in a vat with some rennins

and then aged it in your cave which you dug out of the local volcanic ash

then you went into the orchard next door

where some locals were growing pears and figs

and picked them and cut them up

and then you went and got a fatted hog

and slaughtered it with your bare hands

butchered it up

and took the hock to be salted and hung in the cellar

and dry aged

then you cut up some of the meat from the bone

and put it on a clay dish

that you hand fired in your kiln

and that you molded with ash and clay you gathered from the quarry

and you put out some of the fruit and cheese as well

and you took the wine

and you poured it into a glass that you made

and blew with a tube until it formed the right shape

in a blazing furnace

and molded it with your glass cutting tools

and you took the platter out

and you had a lovely luncheon

with the neighbour girl

and afterwards

you had sex with her

it was very nice

well

not immediately afterwards

you might have gotten a cramo

p

after wards

you got married

and took her to america

where you had some kids

and then they had some kids

and one of their name was

jason

jones

and

jared

and

rosham

and

aelph

and

takie

and then

the grandchilden

had some kids

and their names

were

nikolas

and

mr kessler

and

mathieu

and

des mond

and

des moines

and

nikoulaus

Thank you again, the Zhang! We always welcome your contributions.

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!