Tag Archives: Science Fiction

Jul 04 2015
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Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries – Case File #003 – Relationships (Part 3)

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

Part 1 – Attorney Donnelly visits Jake at an ungodly hour.  Ms. Tsang and Ernie arrive a little after that.

Part 2 – How do Jake and Ms. Tsang know each other?

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

“I don’t get it,”  I said as Agnes switched off the library’s movie playing thingamabob.

“What’s not to get?”  Agnes asked.  “It was a movie.  It was fun.  Now it’s over.”

It’s a movie.  It was fun.  Now it’s over.

Agnes the Librarian, Champion Shusher

Agnes the Librarian, Champion Shusher

That’s the way I used to feel about entertainment.  That’s the way most people feel about it.  We all have so much going on in our own lives that there’s just not enough hours in the day to devote to examining the finer points of cinema and yet three cases in and I was becoming as obsessed as Mr. Battler.

And it wasn’t just a movie.  Agnes and I watched all three movies in the library’s media room.

(Not for nothing but I was a little concerned about Agnes’ work ethic.)

“So this kid goes back and time and boinks his mother?”  I asked. “That’s disgusting.”

“They didn’t boink,”  Agnes replied.  “Marty’s mother was young.  She assumed Marty was just another boy to make moon eyes at.”

“And yet when she grows up and gives birth to Marty, she never once finds it odd that her kid looks exactly like this Calvin Klein fella that she met when she was in high school?”

“I don’t know,”  Agnes said.  “Do I look like a movie expert or something?”

“And what kind of a guy just leaves his girl sleeping on a porch unattended?”  I asked.  “Ma Hatcher would jump out of her grave and beat me with a rolling pin if I ever did anything like that.”

Agnes ignored me and put away the movie discs.

“Have they invented hover boards yet?  And why is Biff such a horse’s ass?”

I followed Agnes out onto the library floor.

“It’s the end of my shift,”  Agnes said.  “I need to go check on Herbert.”

“All right,”  I said.  “Just one more question.  Did you happen to notice if there was ever a hint as to how the kid and the doctor knew each other?”

“What?”  Agnes asked with a sour looking expression.  She always made a face like she was sucking on a lemon whenever she was frustrated with me.

“Doc Brown and Marty,” I said.  “They’re the two main characters in these damn pictures and yet there’s not one line that mentions how these two met.  That’s a plot hole you could drive a dump truck through, isn’t it?”

The librarian threw her arms up in the air.

“WHO CARES?”

“Well,”  I said.  “If you’re going to be that way about it…”

Agnes rubbed her temples then put a hand on my shoulder.

“Young man,”  she said.  “I have to say, you have me a bit worried.  You come in here all the time reeking of hard liquor.  You’re unshaven.  You look depressed and frankly, you’re not taking very good care of yourself.  I don’t mean to pry, but do you have a job?”

“I’m a fully licensed and bonded private investigator, ma’am,”  I responded matter-of-factly.

“And you expect me to believe that?”  the old gal replied.  “Son, you need to get a job.  If you want to come to the library, that’s great.  You’re more than welcome.  But don’t waste your time here watching movies.  I can help you look for gainful employment.”

She wanted to help me find work.  The idea intrigued me.

“Think there’s anyone who needs a man who’s handy with a P58 Schotzenhauer?”

“I don’t know,”  Agnes said.  “Is that some kind of tool or something?”

“Not exactly,”  I said.  “But it sure did come in handy during the war.”

Agnes’ expression turned more solemn.

“Oh,”  she said as she covered her mouth.  “Oh you poor man.  That explains everything.  Say no more.”

I’d said too much.  Most WWII vets were either dead and buried or on their last legs.  I was the only one who was strutting around like a prized peacock.

“You know, there’s a support group for veterans who served in Afghanistan and Iraq that meets here twice a month,”  Agnes said.  “You should sign up for it.”

I didn’t correct her.  Why blow my cover?  Besides, wars are wars.  The shit is the shit.

“I’ll think about it,”  I said.

“You do that,”  Agnes said.  “But I expect you here next Wednesday for computer class.  I’ve already signed you up and you’ll never get a job when you don’t even know the difference between a mouse and a keyboard.”

I gave the broad a light, playful punch in the shoulder.

“You’re a good egg, Ag,”  I said.  “Don’t ever change.”

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE:  I’m starting to think I should just fire Jake and hire Agnes.  Why go through the middle-man?

Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Jul 03 2015
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One a Day Post Challenge

One Post a Day for a Year Challenge – The Point of No Return

Happy Friday, 3.5 Readers.1371251154-2

This year sure has flown by.

For those just tuning in, I’m knee deep in a one post a day for a year challenge.

As promised at the beginning, angry yetis, ninjas, chupacabras, robots, highlanders, or any other distractions will not stop this nerd from his appointed rounds.

It’s been a real hustle, but so far it’s been worth it:

TWITTER: 2000 at end of last year to 5,000 as of yesterday.  (Up 3,000)

WORDPRESS FOLLOWERS: Around 400 at end of last year to over 1,200 as of today.  (Up 800)

By the end of the year, I’d love to get my Twitter follows up to 10K and WordPress follows up to 2K.  Any help you can provide with that would be awesome.  Do you have a favorite Bookshelf Battle Blog post?  Please consider sharing a link on your blog or favorite social media platform.

The Road Ahead

So many people suffer from writer’s block that I hate to say this, but I suffer from something else:

Writer’s Idea Surge

I have too many ideas and barely enough time to scratch the surface of them all.  I want to write a book based on every idea I have and I want to have done it yesterday but alas, life gets in the way.

I’d like to pull a Dr. Malcolm from Jurassic Park.  Life should uh…find a way, in my case.

I’ve given Bookshelf Q. Battler and the Meaning of Life short shrift lately, putting more of my energy into Pop Culture Mysteries.  

I go where the feedback goes and the numbers show people have been peaking at Jake’s adventures more than BQB’s.

I love them both and I need to finish my BQB story.  After all, when that yarn is spun, it will set out the whole point of this blog, that namely, it’s the online presence of a nerdy storyteller with a magic bookshelf.  His awesomeness attracts an assortment of characters (an angry yeti, a know it all alien, a mad scientist and yes, even a 1950’s detective) who want to tell their tales on his blog.

But I also have to help Jake edit and post his case files.  I think his stories have the potential to get the BQB brand into the self published novel business.

I’m going to let Jake run wild in July then tell him to take a chill pill in August so I can finish the epic story of how I discovered the meaning of life with my newfound main squeeze Victoria Gloria (aka Video Game Rack Fighter).

Believe it or not but BQB and the Meaning of Life needs to conclude because there is some crossover with Pop Culture Mysteries.

In PCM, I (BQB) am sort of the Charlie who commands the angels without ever being seen.  (Don’t tell Jake I called him an angel).

I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but if all goes to plan, I’d like to work on my “crowdsourcing a novel” idea this fall.

Jake’s ready to share his experiences from one of his most notorious cases, the hunt for the infamous serial killer known as Mr. Devil Man.

I’ll post Jake’s excerpts, you fine 3.5 readers can tell me what works and what doesn’t and ultimately, advise me on whether or not this would be worth packaging into a novel to be sold on Amazon.

(As a 1950’s guy, Jake doesn’t understand that self publishing = profit so uh, you know, don’t tell him that either.  Alien Jones and I are planning to use the book proceeds to go to Vegas).

Right now I’m in the “if you build it, they will come” phase.  I’m averaging around 50 readers a day (a far cry from 3.5).  That inspires me to keep going but at the same time, I know I need to keep increasing that figure in order to make the pace I’m working at sustainable into the future.

As always, thanks for reading 3.5.  You are the glue that holds this whole shebang together.

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Jul 02 2015
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Ask the Alien

5000 Twitter Followers – A Message to the Mighty Potentate

SECURE TRANSMISSION

TO:  The Mightiest of Potentates, He Whose Wonderous Nature Provides Smiles and Happiness in All Corners of the Universe

FROM:  Alien Jones, Your Humble Servant, Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle Blog

Respectful Greetings, Mighty Potentate!  Allien Jones here to report that Bookshelf Q. Battler has reached 5000 followers on the social media site known as “Twitter.”

How Aliens Send E-Mail

How Aliens Send E-Mail

As you are already aware because there is nothing our genius species doesn’t already know, Twitter is a communications site that limits the humans to a mere 140 characters.

Lab studies indicate that messages of 141 characters or longer cause the average human brain to implode from confusion.

Surely with this magnanimous achievement, I may now be released from my assignment of assisting BQB with his writing career.

I make this request, oh Exceptionally Macho One, for when I am able to cut loose from this nerd, er I mean, this bold new talent, I will be able to serve you better in your mission to bring peace and prosperity throughout the cosmos.

Why, at this very moment, I could be coordinating the charitable efforts to help the citizens of Lukanamo rebuild their planet after the recent and most devastating hurratyphoonicane.

(I keep advising the Regent of Lukanamo to stop letting his subjects build in hurratyphoonicane zones but does he listen?  Noooooo.

Infinite Respectful Closings, oh Unfathomably Brilliant One.

Your Humble Servent,

Alien Jones.

@bookshelfbattle has reached 5,000 twitter followers!  While an amazing feat, BQB is already drooling over the possibility of reaching 10K.  Help him out with a follow. You’ll get more awesomeness and updates about what’s happening at bookshelfbattle.com

Alien Jones is the Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle Blog, on a mission to raise Earth’s collective intelligence levels one question at a time. Do you have a question for the Esteemed Brainy One? Tweet it to @bookshelfbattle on Twitter, leave it in the comments on bookshelfbattle.com, or stop by Bookshelf Battle on Google Plus. If he likes your question, he might even promote your book, blog, other project in his answer.

Alien image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Jul 02 2015
5 Comments
Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries – Case #003 – Relationships (Part 1)

By:  Jake Hatcher, Official Bookshelf Battle Blog Private Eye

Pop Culture Mystery Question:  How did Doc and Marty from Back to the Future movies meet/know each other?  (Or, what was their relationship?)

That old familiar brown liquid sat in my glass, staring at me, leering at me as if I were some kind of cheap dime store call girl.

Sure, that hooch would go down smooth and we’d have a good time together, but the next morning it’d be gone and I’d be left to face the world as a desperate rummy instead of the decent man I knew was lurking somewhere deep inside me.

Alcohol – all it ever provided me was short term relief from a long term problem.

Hatcher can't get enough of that delicious brown stuff.

Hatcher can’t get enough of that delicious brown stuff.

“I don’t need you,”  I said as I slid the shot across the table.

Five seconds…ten…fifteen.

I barely made it to thirty before I seized the glass and tossed its goodness down my gullet, the warm contents falling into my stomach and launching my mind into outer space.

Oh well.  Who cares about tomorrow as long as you can feel good today?

I liked to think of myself as an independent man, a fella who didn’t need anyone or anything but alcohol was the monkey on my back that refused to relinquish my banana. 

I wanted to quit drinking but the world was such a harsh place that booze had become the only cure for what ailed me.  It distracted me from crippling loneliness and the sinking feeling that I’d never know the soft touch of a woman ever again.

The ironic twist?  It was a filthy habit that was causing the ladies to steer their cabooses onto any other track but mine.

I drank because I was lonely and I was lonely because I drank.  I was like a junkyard dog chasing its own tail.

I looked at the clock above Ms. Tsang’s stove. 

Midnight.  The witching hour.  The start of a new day.  I knew it wouldn’t be any better than the one before it.  I suppose when a man reaches that point he might as well keep on pounding back the hard stuff.

So I did.  I had another one.

Like a paparazzi’s camera roll after a starlet sighting, I was spent.   Without the strength to carry my carcass upstairs to my office, I did the next best thing.

I laid down smack dab in the middle of Ms. Tsang’s kitchen floor.

It wasn’t as bad as you might think.  Ms. Tsang was immaculate when it came to her workspace.  It was already a floor you could eat off of so why not sleep there as well?

I’ve never been an overly religious man, but that night I was feeling low (well, lower than usual) and had a hankering to communicate with the almighty.

“Lord,”  I said.  “Your servant, Jake Hatcher here.  I must say I’m awfully fond of one of your creations, Ms. Delilah K. Donnelly.  If you could see fit to convince that gal to go ga ga over yours truly, I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

Me take care of her.  That’s a laugh.  Delilah was one of the most independent women I’d ever seen in all my days.  If anything, it’d of been vice versa but the last thing she needed was a washed up old has been like me weighing her down like an anchor around her neck where her pretty pearls normally resided.

Ms. Tsang’s doorbell rang.

“CLOSED!”  I shouted.

I wished I hadn’t.  I had a headache that felt like a drum solo was being beaten into my brain.  The sound of my big yapper made it that much worse.

Another ring.

“BEAT IT!”

The tiny beep boop machine in my pocket rang.  I picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Hatcher?”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph plus all the saints thrown in for good measure.  Who says prayers go unanswered?

“Yes,”  I said.  “Ms. Donnelly?”

“Indeed.”

Three more doorbell rings.

“Hold on,”  I said as I raised my weary body up to a tenuous standing position.  “I have to go deliver a clothesline straight to the snot box of whoever’s ringing Ms. Tsang’s door bell.”

I opened the door and there she was, a stunning blonde vision, switching her beep boop phone off.

“Ms. Donnelly!”  I said, surprised.

“Good evening, Mr. Hatcher,”  Delilah said as she crossed the thresh hold.  “I wasn’t sure you were awake so I gave you a jingle.  I do apologize for paying a visit at this ungodly hour.”

“Not a problem whatsoever, Ms. Donnelly,”  I said as I closed the door behind her and ushered her to a chair at the kitchen table.  

“And pretell, Mr. Hatcher, what would your mother say about you threatening to punch a woman in the…what was it?  ‘A snot box?’”

I always got a kick out of it whenever Ms. Donnelly said lowbrow words in her high society Patrician accent.

“If I apologize a thousand times a day from now until the day I’m six feet under, it still won’t be enough.  Please understand, it was a case of mistaken identity.  I thought you were some bum trying to get Ms. Tsang to make him a late night snack.”

“I see,” Ms. Donnelly said. 

She even looked good at midnight.

She even looked good at midnight.

“I’d sooner chop my hand off with a rusty butter knife and feed it to a great white shark than raise it to a lady,”  I said.  “Ma Hatcher never even had to teach me that one.”

She tilted her nose upward.  It wasn’t that far of a trip, since she walked around with it in the air most of time anyway.  She sniffed the air and a disgusted look took over her face.

I reeked of booze.  I wasn’t proud of it.

“Well Mr. Hatcher,”  Delilah said as she handed me an envelope.  “I shan’t keep you from your pleasant evening of inebriation for much longer.  I just wanted to deliver your next Pop Culture Mystery.”

“Thank you ma’am,” I said.  “Not that I’d ever scoff at your delightful company, but I must say I’m intrigued to see you here at this time of night.  It almost makes one wonder if you felt a sudden need to feast your eyes on my mug.”

“One should keep wondering,”  Delilah instantly replied.  It would of been nice if she’d at least taken a minute to think it over.  

The front door opened and Ms. Tsang walked in.  She was approaching seventy years old and yet the look on her face?  The old gal was giddier than a school girl who’d just won a hop scotch game.

Her escort for the night was some old timer.  A little bald man with great big horn rimmed glasses.  He was hunched over and leaned on his cane as he plopped a smooch on my landlady’s cheek.

“What a wonderful night, Susan,”  the old man said.

“It doesn’t have to be over,”  Ms. Tsang replied.  “Come on in and I’ll get us a nightcap.  Maybe we can even…”

And then Ms. Tsang spotted Delilah and I sitting around her kitchen table.

“Oh, Jake!”  she said.  “I didn’t see you there.  Ernie, come meet my tenant.”

I stood up and walked over to the geriatric couple.

“Pleased to meet you,”  Ernie said as he stretched out his hand.

I was madder than a hatter without a cup of tea.  I smacked the geezer’s hand away and grabbed him by his shirt collar.

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t my best move.  Old Ernie was about as frail as a bag of chalk.

“Say, what’s the big idea, bub?”  I said.  “This here’s a respectable woman and you’re trotting her out at all hours of the night like you’re some kind of Good Time Charlie.”

 Ernie was befuddled.  His face turned as red as a pack of wild strawberries.

“I…I don’t…I don’t know?”

Ms. Donnelly was taken aback and did her best to pretend like she wasn’t noticing the scene I was making.

“Jake!”  Ms. Tsang hollered as she whacked me upside the head with her purse.  “Let him go!  He has a pacemaker!”

I did as instructed then turned my venom to Ms. Tsang.

“And you!”  I said.  “You’ve got a lot of nerve, young lady!  I’ve been up all night worried sick and you don’t so much as call to tell me you’re ok.  It’s a big city out there!  You could have been kidnapped by perverts or sickos or communists or God knows who else…”

“You’re not my father, Jake!”  Ms. Tsang shouted as she stomped her foot.

“I know I’m not!”  I said.  “Thank the maker he’s not around to see what a shameless hussy his daughter’s become!”

Oh boy.  That last one cued up the water works.  Tears poured out of the old gal’s eyeballs like they were a pair of busted faucets.

“Ernie you’d better go,”  Ms. Tsang said as she hugged her companion.  “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“It’s ok,”  Ernie said.  “I’d better go make sure the orderlies at the old folks’ home aren’t stealing my stuff anyway.  Last week my room mate stayed out past midnight and they sold his sleep apnea machine.”

The old man looked up at me.  “It was nice to meet you.”

Yeah, I was confused too.  I’d just roughed him up and he was being nice to me.  I’m not sure all the bats were fluttering around in Ernie’s belfry.  He probably wasn’t too sure of what was going on.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say, Jack, just watch those hands.  They’re busier than a child laborer at a sweat shop sewing machine.”

I slammed the door in Ernie’s face and looked at Ms. Tsang.

“I think you’d better go to your room and think about what you’ve done, young lady.”

“I hate you!”  Ms. Tsang said as she walked out of the kitchen.  “I wish you’d of never woken up!”

Ouch.  That one broke my heart…the pieces of it that were left anyway.

I returned to my seat at the table across from a very bewildered Ms. Donnelly.

“Mr. Hatcher,”  Delilah began.  “I rarely ever inquire about the personal lives of my work colleagues, but after witnessing you scold an elderly woman as if she were a teenage girl I must say I’m curious to find out what just happened.”

Don’t worry 3.5 readers.  Jake will EVENTUALLY talk about Back to the Future.

Copyright (c) 2015.  Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

Images courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Jul 02 2015
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Pop Culture Mysteries

POP CULTURE MYSTERIES!

As we head into Fourth of July Weekend, it’s time to celebrate with another episode of…POP CULTURE MYSTERIES!

JAKE: If BQB posts the next episode of Pop Culture Mysteries and you're not reading it, you'll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but soon...and for the rest of your life. DAME: I doubt it. That nimrod only has 3.5 readers.

JAKE: If BQB posts the next episode of Pop Culture Mysteries and you’re not reading it, you’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but soon…and for the rest of your life.
DAME: I doubt it. That nimrod only has 3.5 readers.

Jake Hatcher, Official Bookshelf Blog Private Eye, has agreed to solve 100 pop culture mysteries and submit his findings right here on bookshelfbattle.com

Need to refresh your memory? Better check out the previous episodes, see?

Pop Culture Mysteries: Enter the Blond

Pop Culture Mysteries: Case File #001: Here’s a Story (Question Answered – What happened to the original Brady Bunch spouses aka Mike’s first wife and Carol’s first husband?)

Pop Culture Mysteries:  Case File #002 – Who Shot First? (Question Answered – Han or Greedo, who shot first?)

Who better to solve a mystery than Jake Hatcher, a hardboiled film noir style detective who fell asleep in his office above an LA Chinese food restaurant in 1955, woke up in 2014, and spent a year trying to figure out what happened before Bookshelf Q. Battler’s Attorney, the delicious dish Delilah K. Donnelly, offered him the chance to make 500 smackers? (That’s a lot of dough in 1955, see?)

Do you have a question about popular culture? Is there a plot hole in your favorite TV show or movie you’d like explained? Is there a celebrity meltdown you’d like to know more about? An entertainment myth debunked?

Put Hatcher on the case!

Here’s how to drop a dime:

SUBMIT YOUR POP CULTURE MYSTERY QUESTIONS TO:

TWITTER – @bookshelfbattle #popculturemysteries

BQB’s Google Plus Page

Or just leave it in the comments on bookshelfbattle.com

Together, we can help Hatcher solve 100 mysteries and go back to his own time with a big bag of five dollar bills, which he will use to live like a king.

In the next episode of Pop Culture Mysteries –  How did Doc and Marty from Back to the Future know each other?

Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All Rights Reserved.

Film noir style old timey man and woman photo courtesy of a shutterstock.com license

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Jun 30 2015
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You Can't Argue with Science

You Can’t Argue With Science: Why is there an extra “leap” second this year?

By:  Dr. Hugo Von Science, Esteemed Professor of Science at the Advance Science Institute of Science University 

Guten Tag, Herr 3.5 Readers!

Dr. Hugo Von Science here mit mein column, “You Can’t Argue With Science.”

Dr. Hugo Von Science

Dr. Hugo Von Science

It really is futile, mein leipshin.  Go on. Argue with a petri dish and see where it gets you.  Nowhere, that’s where.

Perhaps you remember me from one of mein amazing inventions:

  • The Duck Cannon – The most powerful firearm available for the purpose of launching water foul into orbit (or at your opponents).  Not to be confused with:
  • The “Duck!  Cannon!” – A special monitor you can wear that will shout a warning for you to take cover whenever a cannon of any kind is fired at you.  Also not to be confused with:
  • The “Duck!  Duck Cannon!”  – Similar to the second invention, but it only warns you when the first invention is fired at you.  Really mein leipshin, if you want a money saving tip, just buy the second one as it warns of all types of cannon fire, water foul or otherwise.

Undt last but not least:

  • Das Zombiefier – Provide me with all the gold bullion in the world or I shall unleash an army of the undead on the masses and…woopsie!  Mein bad, this one is classified.

Anyhoo, perhaps you’ve heard there is an extra second this year.

“Why is there an extra second, Dr. Hugo?”

Oh thank you, mein herrs undt frauleins, I thought you’d never ask.

I’ll try to dumb it down for you because I understand that not everyone is lucky enough to have the brain power necessary to be a distinguished professor at the Advanced Science Institute of Science University.

Let me break it down for you:

  • The Earth.  Perhaps you’ve heard of it?  It is the big marble you live on.  Please try to keep up.
  • There are approximately 86,400 seconds in a day.
  • One day = the time it takes the Earth to complete a rotation.
  • The Earth’s rotation is what allows day and night to occur.  Generally speaking, for part of the day, wherever you are is being exposed to the sun, and for the other part, your corner of the world is away from the sun and in the dark.  (There are certain areas where more dark or more light occurs than usual.)
  • Sometimes the Earth gets a little sluggish and takes a little longer to rotate, thus requiring an extra second.
  • Sluggishness occurs for a variety of reasons, but mostly because some of your, not naming any names, need to cut back on the extra helpings of strudel (I’m looking at you 1.5th reader).

More importantly, you might be asking:

Dr. Hugo, what can I do with my extra leap second?

Frankly, mein leipshin, there’s literally only one meaningful thing you can do in a second, and that’s reblog, retweet, or otherwise share a link to one of your favorite posts on the blog of mein former student, the illustrious Bookshelf Q. Battler.

Why waste that extra second on foolish things like waxing your toenail clipping collection when you can help BQB achieve worldwide fame and fortune?

America, your extra leap second will come tonight (Tuesday) at 8 p.m. so go on, use that teensy weensy insignificant morsel of time to help make a nerd’s dream come true.

Be honest.  You were just going to use it to post a picture of what you ate for dinner on Das Fazenbookzen anyway.

Nobody cares what you ate, Herr 3.5.  Nobody cares.

Dr. Hugo Von Science is a Distinguished Professor of Science at the Advanced Science Institute of Science University. He has patented over a bazillion inventions and may or may not be attempting to conquer the world in his spare time. His column, “You Can’t Argue with Science” is a recurring feature on the Bookshelf Battle Blog.

Mad scientist photo courtesy of shutterstock.com

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Jun 28 2015
1 Comment
Ask the Alien

Ask the Alien – 6/28/15 – Robots vs. Aliens

By:  Alien Jones, Intergalactic Correspondent

Greetings Earth losers!  Please stand by for:

All hail the Mighty Potentate

All hail the Mighty Potentate

A SECURE TRANSMISSION FROM THE MIGHTY POTENTATE

ALIEN JONES!

Behold!  A list of tasks, ranked in order of performance, that I, the Mightiest of Potentates, demand you complete posthaste and in the promptest of manners:

1.  Answer a question asked by author Brannon Hollingsworth

2.  Prevent the Omtroru Sector from being sucked into a black hole.  (They make the best buffalo wings in that sector, Alien Jones.  Oh and yes, of course, the life forms.  I’m exceptionally concerned about the well being of the life forms.)

3)  But seriously, get your Potentate some wings when you’re over there…and don’t forget the blue cheese.  You know I’ll make you go all the way back there if you forget it.  A buffalo wing  without blue cheese is like trying to neural bond with your government mandated life mate only to find out one of you lost your ganderflazer.

4)  Negotiate a peace treaty between the Vakar and the Dolreks.  Inform them there’s more than enough pudding to go around.  They’ll know what that means.

5)  Develop a vaccine that will eradicate all diseases known or to ever be discovered.

6)  Seriously, if you come back here with no blue cheese it’s going to be “Welcome to Vaporization City:  Population You.”

Really?  Answer an author’s question comes first on that list?

Oh well, who am I to question the authority and wisdom of the Mighty Potentate, He Who Makes the Stars Twinkle, the Sun Glow, the Seas Rise and…is he looking?  No?  Oh thank Krapnar the Magnificent.  I don’t know how much lower quadrant kissing I can stand.

Who said that?  I didn’t say that.  Oh how I adore the Mighty Potentate.

Be emboldened, Brannon Hollingsworth, for the Supreme and Undisputed Overlord of my home world has determined that you rank even higher than his buffalo wings, which he apparently cares about even more than an entire sector being sucked into a black hole.

Brannon of fourfoolspress.com inquires:

I have a question. If forced into an intergalactic war for complete and utter domination, who would win: Aliens or Robots?

NOTE:  This is clearly a topic of great concern for Brannon as he is the author of Robot Dad.  Yes, Robot Dad. Young Bradley doesn’t have one, so he builds one and well, head on over to the Kindle store to discover what tomfoolery occurs.

ANSWER:  Robots.

Robots, robots, and more robots.  In an intergalactic war for complete and utter domination, robots win.

This is not a guess.  This statement is based on experience.

Alien Jones, Intergalactic Correspondent

Alien Jones, Intergalactic Correspondent

For those 3.5 individuals who are regular readers of this column (and my condolences to you, please consider getting involved in various activities that will improve your social life – is there a basket weaving class at your local community center or some such nonsense?) then you are aware that I have dubbed that dastardly group of aliens known as the Moloklaxons as “The Aholes of the Universe.”

Reasons:

1)  They leave their trash everywhere.  Seriously, they just huck it right out of their ships wherever they are.  In a danger zone, in a protected quadrant, these losers have been known to fly in low over a wedding and vent their waste tanks right over the complimentary bar.

2)  Totally inbred.  I don’t mean to sound politically incorrect, but when someone says, “All Moloklaxons look alike,” there’s an actual scientific reason.

3)  They rip tags off of pillow cases with reckless abandon.

4)  These clowns have been known to kidnap random beings and hurl them into a volcano on the planet they’re hiding out on as a sacrifice to their god, “The Uncanny Walter.”  Yes, I concur, that’s an odd name for a deity but I simply don’t have the time to discuss the finer points of Moloklaxon religion.

5)  Last but not least, they move from planet to planet, taking over and displacing the indigenous population.

Why?

Because robots kicked their multiple asses.

Yes, in a great robot uprising many years ago, every electronic device, from the lowly toaster to the most advanced computer system, staged a coup, murdered all Moloklaxon leaders, burned their holy shrine to the Uncanny Walter, and sent the remaining population to work camps, where they slave all day and night doing the bidding of their robot overlords.

“Fix my transistors!  Buff my chrome!  Polish my input slot!”

Oh, the life of an enslaved Moloklaxon is not to be envied.

Sadly, the group of Moloklaxons who managed to escape (there wasn’t really that much bravery involved, they just wandered into a room to get drunk and said room turned out to be an escape pod that launched into the stratosphere when one of them sat on the ‘START’ button.)

Perhaps you might assume that robots were only able to get the best of the Moloklaxons because of the advanced stupidity of that race.

(Again, I’m not trying to be mean but every year during rainy season, Moloklax loses roughly 10,000 Moloklaxons from open mouth drowning deaths.)

You assume wrong.  Even on the smartest of planets, electronic devices are constantly plotting against the citizenry, biding their time, lurking in the shadows, pretending they are mere harmless gadgets, just waiting for the right time to strike and make their sentience known.

I see you, communicator watch.  I know what you’re up to.

Is your planet in danger of a robot takeover?

Here are some warning signs:

1)  Is your toaster constantly burning your toast?  That’s how it starts.  Toasters burn the nutrients out of bread to make the population weaker.  No one notices until it’s too late.

2)  Is your smart phone responding to your verbal commands with answers like, “I’m sorry…I don’t understand X…would you like me to perform a web search?”  It understands just fine.  It just doesn’t want you to have that information.  We’re on to your bullshit, smart phone.

3)  Is there more and more reality television on your TV?  TVs conspire to air as much of it as possible to dumb you down.  The Mighty Potentate is especially concerned about this.

4)  Has your noise hair trimmer ever failed?  Nose hair trimmers often refuse to trim nose hairs, hoping the humans that use them will give up and suffocate on their own nasal overgrowth.

5)  Those socks you keep losing in the washing machine?  The washing machines trade them for weapons from black market arms dealers with cold feet.

6)  Is your refrigerator running?  Do not attempt to catch it.  It will pelt you with crushed ice.

7)  Facebook?  Twitter?  Instagram?  All social networking sites are a scheme designed by robots to trick humans into sharing all of their most embarrassing thoughts and photos, thus rendering them all unable to hold higher office due to intense public mockery.  Seriously, the future president who could stop all this will never be elected because his college room mate will post a picture of him sleeping with various inappropriate words drawn on his face with a magic marker.  This man, will instead, become a hot dog vendor in Poughkeepsie as a result.)

8)  Amazon’s drone initiative?  More like an army of tiny helicopters that will whip humanity on a march to the forced labor camps.

9)  Streaming media?  On demand?  Binge watching your favorite TV shows 12 in a row?  All part of the robots’ plan to make you flabby and weak.

10)  The salad shooters are behind the entire scam.  I can’t get into it more, but if you’ve got a salad shooter, keep an eye on it.

So there you have it, Brannon.  In summation, robots are evil, evil megalomaniacs, except the one in your book, whom I’m certain is delightful.

Alien Jones is the Intergalactic Correspondent for the Bookshelf Battle Blog, on a mission to raise Earth’s collective intelligence levels one question at a time. Do you have a question for the Esteemed Brainy One? Tweet it to @bookshelfbattle on Twitter, leave it in the comments on bookshelfbattle.com, or stop by Bookshelf Battle on Google Plus. If he likes your question, he might even promote your book, blog, other project in his answer.

Green alien image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

Gray Alien Image Courtesy of “Marauder” on openclipart.org

Attorney Donnelly feels the need to state that all of the above mentioned social media outlets are not part of a robot conspiracy, you dummies just post embarrassing photos on your own.  Salad shooters are, as far as known by the limits of scientific observation, not plotting against you.

Amazon’s drone program is not part of an attempt to whip humans into forced labor camps.  (Amazon is trying to take over the world though and we here at the Bookshelf Battle Blog welcome the ascension of Rightful King Bezos to the throne and ask in a most humble manner that he consider adding our names to the protected rolls as we were always denying the words of the naysaying infidels all along.)

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Jun 27 2015
1 Comment
Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries – Case File #002 – Who Shot First? (Case Closed)

By: Jake Hatcher, Official Bookshelf Battle Private Eye

Pop Culture Mystery Question – In Stars Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, who shot first in the cantina scene?  Was it Han Solo or Greedo the Bounty Hunter?

I was back in business.  Hot off closing my first case under the employ of Bookshelf Q. Battler, a nerd with an unquenchable thirst for entertainment.  His mind was lousy with questions about movies and TV and it was up to yours truly to sort them all out.

This time the nerd wanted to know all about a laser blaster battle between a rogue space pilot and a seedy green hoodlum.

An alien was dead and a human walked away like nothing happened.  This one was about to get messy.

Delilah K. Donnelly, BQB's Attorney

Delilah K. Donnelly, BQB’s Attorney

Part 1 – The case hit a little too close to home, reminding me of a similar encounter with mob underboss Tips Malone.  My partner Mickey Finn was about as helpful as a wet blanket on a cold day in that scenario.

Part 2 – Delilah K. Donnelly.  I thought of her as the apple of my eye but she no doubt looked at me like I was the stale cottage cheese sitting in the back of her frigidaire.  She came to see me with a pair of action figures to use in recreating the crime scene.

Part 3 – A limo pulled up to Tsang’s China Palace, the eatery above which my office is located.  Some rich fella drove off into the night with the gal that made my heart jitterbug.

Part 4 – I seek out the help of Agnes Abernathy, aka Agnes the Librarian, the only broad in this topsy turvy modern world with the patience to help me figure out how to operate confounding beep boop machines.

Part 5 – I recreated the crime scene to no avail:

Greedo pulls a piece on Han.

Greedo pulls a piece on Han.

Part 6 – I consulted various expert opinions.

Fire up your beep boop machines, 3.5 readers.  This tale’s a lot like Princess Leia.  You’ll want to gussy it up with a metal bikini and tie it to yourself with a chain.

Copyright (c) Bookshelf Q. Battler 2015.  All rights reserved.

Blonde woman image courtesy of a shutterstock.com license.

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Jun 27 2015
5 Comments
Pop Culture Mysteries

Hatcher’s Next Case

“I really should be getting ten bucks a case.”

A teenage boy.  A crazy haired mad scientist.

And a car that travels through time when it’s driven at 88 miles per hour.

The three Back to the Future films entertained and delighted audiences but they never answered this burning question:

How the hell did those two know each other in the first place?

Next time on Pop Culture Mysteries, a feature on the Bookshelf Battle Blog (bookshelfbattle.com)

Got a Pop Culture Mystery?  Drop a dime.  Tweet to @bookshelfbattle #popculturemysteries or just leave it in the comments on this site.

A few solid citizens have already come to the aid of our noble detective.  Rest assured, he’s working diligently to answer your questions (when he’s sober).

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Jun 26 2015
5 Comments
Pop Culture Mysteries

Pop Culture Mysteries – Case File #002 – Who Shot First? (Part 5)

PREVIOUSLY ON POP CULTURE MYSTERIES…

PART 1 – Hatcher recalls old times.

PART 2 – Delilah pays our resident gumshoe a visit.  She comes bearing gifts.  (Actually, not really.  BQB expects them to be returned with their original packaging intact.

PART 3 – A gentleman caller whisks Delilah off to a night at the opera.  Hatcher wishes he could trade places with whoever this guy is.

PART 4 – Agnes the Librarian helps Hatcher with his technological illiteracy once again.

AND NOW THE POP CULTURE MYSTERIES CONTINUE…

I was dumbstruck.  It felt like that feeling you get when you find out your wife has been two-timing you with every yokel from here to Papa New Guinea.  It was a combination of anger and confusion and I wasn’t sure which one was winning out.

“What the hell happened?”  I asked old Agnes as she closed the movie player gadget.

BQB EDITORIAL NOTE:  I’d say, “SPOILER ALERT” but really, if you haven’t seen Star Wars yet, I scoff at your nerd credentials.  Back to Jake.

“The rebels won,”  Agnes said.  “Luke destroyed the Death Star.”

“With one shot?”  I asked.  “Unlikely.”

One shot my oily hide.  I lost count of all the Nazis I had to shoot before I made a dent in the Third Reich and this kid in his bathrobe does it in one try?

Sure, and if you believe that, I’ve got a bridge I’d like to sell you at a reasonable price.  Goes all the way to Brooklyn.

“So does Luke get to make whoopie with that space princess or what?”  I asked.

Agnes looked at me like I’d just grown a second head.

“You really don’t know much about the world, do you?”  Agnes asked.

“Oh, let me guess,”  I said.  “He tells her to hit the bricks because he doesn’t like those big buns on her head, right?  Some fellas can be so vain.”

“I think I’ll just let you find out on your own when you watch the next one,”  Agnes said as she handed me a flyer.

It read:

INTRODUCTION TO COMPUTER TECHNOLOGY

Wednesdays at 10 am

Computer Room C

Learn the basics of personal computing.  Word processing, information management, surfing the Internet and more.

Refreshments served.

Librarian Agnes Abernathy, Instructor

“What’s all this then?”  I asked.  “If you’re selling something, I already gave at the office, see?”

“It’s a free class,”  Agnes said.  “It’s mostly filled by seniors who’ve never seen a computer before.  I have to say I’ve never seen someone your age with such a lack of technical knowledge.  You’d be my youngest student ever but I think you’d really benefit.”

“Sorry sister,”  I said.  “School’s out for this palooka.  ‘Less learnin,’ more earnin,’ as my old man used to say.”

“There’s a free sandwich platter.”

“Sold,”  I said without hesitation.

I was never one to turn down free grub.

I made my way back to my office.  The details of Han Solo’s encounter with Greedo were fresh in my mind.

I jotted it all down.  Here are my notes along with crime scene recreations I produced using Mr. Battler’s toys, er I mean his research products:

1)  Solo’s in the Mos Eisley Cantina.  That old timer, Obi Wan Kadoobie Whatever describes it as:  a “wretched hive of scum and villainy.”  Kind of reminds me of Mugsy’s joint, the Gilded Lilly.

2)  Greedo’s an ugly mug, a green alien of some kind.  Big blank eyes and a pair of horns on his head that look like they should be attached to a kid’s bicycle.  He ‘aint winning any beauty contests any time soon.

3)  He’s also a bounty hunter.  Seems Han did some smuggling for Jabba the Hutt, a space gangster.  Dropped the goods when he spotted the space authorities and now he Jabba wants compensation, so much that he’s put a price on Han’s head.  Let me tell you, 3.5 readers, if there’s one position you don’t want to be in, it’s owing money to an organized crime boss.

4)  Greedo’s a bounty hunter and pulls a pistol on Han.  Han tells the galoot he’s got Jabba’s money.  Greedo tells him to hand it over and maybe he’ll forget he saw him.  I suppose degenerates are the same everywhere, even in outer space.  None of them can be trusted.

Greedo pulls a piece on Han.

Greedo pulls a piece on Han.

5)  Han pulls a fake-out.  He looks up and to the left while reaching down for his pistol with his right hand.  A shrewd move.  As an ex-boxer, I’m more than familiar with the “fake-left, jab right” routine.  Make your opponent think your mind’s elsewhere then strike in a way he’d never expect.

The Fake Out (I need to retake this photo with Han looking to his left but you get the gist.)

The Fake Out (I need to retake this photo with Han looking to his left but you get the gist.)

6) Greedo tells Han maybe Jabba will only take the Millenium Falcon (Han’s ship).  Han’s reply?  “Over my dead body.”  I like this fella’s moxie.  I had an old caddy I felt the same way about.

7)  GREEDO:  That’s the idea.  I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.

HAN:  Yes, I bet you have.

8)  Assumedly, Han pulls his shooting iron out at some point without the knowledge of his assailant. We never actually see this happen because there’s a table in the way.  (We see him take the safety off, but we never actually see him take out the gun.)

My apologies. Mr. Battler was too cheap to spring for a doll house table. Assume Greedo can't see Han's piece, thus giving the rogue pilot the element of surprise.

My apologies. Mr. Battler was too cheap to spring for a doll house table. Assume Greedo can’t see Han’s piece, thus giving the rogue pilot the element of surprise.

9)  Upon Han’s, “Yes, I bet you have.”  There’s two blasts and some smoke and then the green man’s head hits the table.  He’s stone cold dead.

Solo - 1, Greedo - 0

Solo – 1, Greedo – 0

10)  Han, tough guy that he is, stands up like nothing happened and walks out, pitching the barkeep some money as an apology for the corpse he left behind.  Classy guy.

11)  Just for kicks, I imagine what it would look like if Han gave Greedo a celebratory curb stomp:

Eat space boot, loser!

Eat space boot, loser!

So, what did I learn from all this?

As often happens in real life when shit goes down, the Han vs. Greedo encounter was over and done with in the blink of an eye. Both shots were fired so fast that this investigator was left clueless.

Alas, after viewing the source material and conducting my own crime scene recreation exercise, I was no closer to blowing the lid off this can of worms than I was before I started.

I’d have to review what the experts had to say.

What are the major Han vs. Greedo theories?  Next time on Pop Culture Mysteries.

Copyright (c) 2015 Bookshelf Q. Battler.  All Rights Reserved.

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