Feb 21 AN ASSTR WRITING CONTEST UPDATE

                

AN ASSTR WRITING CONTEST UPDATE

More specific information about the conditions of the competition, the genre allowed, story codes permitted, sexual content and limitations, and how much literary license a writer should take need to be provided.

There's a lot of varied and potentially risqué stuff posted on ASSTR, so what bounds will the writers be under?

Before I'd consider participating I'd need to know who the audience was, if it was strictly an adult's only playground, and what restrictions would be imposed.

Also, is the contest open to existing stories, unpublished works, or a completely new piece of fiction based on a set of guidelines to be announced later?

More details, please ...

An interested Asstr author

Here are the ideas we've discussed. While they aren't definite yet, we're leaning in this direction.

1. The competition should be open. (Anything legal) We will probably require submissions be posted to Asstr since it is a contest for Asstr authors. If your post is deleted by Asstr, we'll delete it too.
   But we're aware that submissions will have to be separated into Adult material, Moral Majority fare, PG16 and children's stories.
2. We want submissions to be rated by the free market. This would include the appeal of the Title, the interest of the story, the quality of the writing, the choice of sponsor and anything else that might make a submissions marketable (even cheating).
3. We like the idea of a point system. We're leaning towards 10,000 point = $1.00. A submission would earn points by being accessed, by referring readers to a sponsors link, by gifts from appreciative readers, and from royalties paid by the sponsor who sell's something to a referred reader.
4. Readers would receive 100 points for registering and points for a useful review or critique. (Gifted from the contest)
5. Points can be redeemed for prizes and sponsor merchandise.
6. The best stories (as determined by us) will be segregated and promoted by the contest.
7. Submission must have a sponsor chosen and negotiated by the author.
8. Points an author spends still remain in their score.
9. A list of ready sponsors can be reviewed at http://www.fledgling.byethost8.com/Product_List.html This is inventory from a defunct ebay store and the list is still being edited to remove ebay references and protocols.

The basic idea is to create a media like TV where the best shows are free to the public but paid for by sponsors who share in the benefit of a good story. We want to create a venue where an author's reward is real and not just intangible feedback.

Your ideas and opinions are welcome.

Fledgling

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In The Beginning

This is the first draft of a new story, so comments or suggestions would be appreciated.

In The Beginning

A vast cloud of single celled organisms had been traveling through the void for eons. Each was enclosed in shell of carbon atoms packed as densely as diamond, but arranged to reflect every trace of electromagnetic radiation back inside. For them to continue and grow, the microbes had to catch and hold every photon and every trace of matter it encountered during the millennia between stars.

Even though they caught and held every trace of energy and matter they encountered, the cloud was not dependent upon natural resources for their survival. By manipulating electric charges, they had formed a very intense electric field that held the cloud in a very precise formation. At the center, they had formed a core of heavy iron atoms that were continually being ionized to maintain the field. At the edge of the cloud, individual cells would capture electrons flying off the core, gradually building up a negative charge until they were drawn towards the core.

Before reaching the core, they would internally accelerate electrons pushing them at high speeds through a hole in their shield aimed precisely at the core. The core's positive charge would continue to accelerate the electrons until they collided with the force of a freight train. At the core, the energy of colliding electrons would push atomic nuclei together with enough force to fuse them releasing enormous amounts of energy that powered the whole cloud. Anything blown away from the core that was larger than an electron would be struck by incoming electrons until it was pushed back into the core. The electrons being blown away would evade those accelerating inward because of the repulsion of like charges and would continue outward at a decelerating speed until caught by one of the microbes.

Each time a cell made the inward journey, it would pick up a few oxygen, carbon and nitrogen atoms to use in growing new cells.

The entire process was no accident of nature, it was a mechanism the cloud had learned long before beginning its journey. It was capable of learning because it was sentient. Actually, it was more than sentient, as it possessed the intelligence and information processing capacity to build an object the size of a star by manipulating single atoms to a precise location to achieve a perfect nano structure.

Though it had the ability and capacity to build anything, it had no interest in doing so. It would have thought the process as interesting as a man, if man had existed back then, would have considered the digging of the panama canal with a teaspoon. What did interest the cloud was the creation of living organisms capable of reproducing and acting independently to help it acquire new information and knowledge.

And thus it was, when the cloud encountered an area of the great void where a higher concentration of dust and hydrogen had accumulated, the core and rear of the cloud slowed while the edges continued until the cloud had surrounded the unorganized matter. When the core came to rest in the center, it was allowed to cool. Without the continued bombardment of electrons, the core quickly became unstable, throwing out a dozen smaller globs of iron from itself with the repelling force of its now unbalanced positive charge.

As each glob was cast away, the microbes surrounding it renewed there bombardment regenerating the electric field that caused the new pieces of core to attract each other. With planned precision the new smaller cores began circling the original, sweeping up the unorganized dust and gas with their own net of electric fields.

Another eon passed while every trace of the new matter was absorbed and organized with a precision only the cloud could have engineered. Finally the cloud rearranged itself to englobe its new creation. More time passed while everything was made ready. In a complex system, the cells of the cloud communicated across the billions of miles it encompassed to establish a common time to act.

Finally it was time. At the signal 10 to the 147 power cells accelerated electrons at the core at speeds precisely calculated to arrive at the same instant. Immediately before arrival, the cloud said, “Let there be light”. And there was.

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Feb 17 A Writer's Competition

Feb 17, 2011

We need your input. Would you rather have a one time, limited writer's competition (what I can afford to cover myself) or an on going, open competition with commercial sponsors to cover the cost?

A Writer's Competition

AN ASSTR WRITING CONTEST

QUERY

We've been kicking ideas around for week now and we think we figured out how to build a writer's contest that never ends and that generates an income depending on how good the author is and what kind of stories they write. So, instead of a prize, you'd receive income much like royalties. The amount of money you receive would be dependant upon the number of times your story was downloaded and how much readers liked it. Instead of money, an author could choose being published when his story reached a preset threshold of earnings.

It will take some time to get set up, but we already have sponsors willing to review your stories and pay you for the privelege of sponsoring you.

I know the concept is diffrent, but you could think of it as a reality writing competition, because it would be just like the real world. Plus, we have the cooperation of Asstr. (see below)

To follow the discussion further, please leave your comments on the Writers's Competition Blog.

Fledgling

Feb 8, 2011 The following message was just received from asstr administration;

 Hey, sorry for the delay in getting back to you.

 You're welcome to host the story-writing contest.

 Please let us know if we can be of further assistance.

 - Rey del Sexo

February 5

We've had quite a few authors respond (all in favor) and some of them think there shouldn't be prizes. So, we'd like your input on the matter.

 

I've also been thinking about how to determine the winners. I think the contest should be a reflection of the real world, so I'd like to design it so that every participant earns a reward based on how much readers are willing to pay. I'm thinking about ways to create contest points or money and get it into circulation. Your ideas on this subject would be much appreciated.



Feb 2, 2011

What would you think about me sponsoring a writing contest on asstr. I've read the rules carefully and there doesn't seem to be even a hint that it wouldn't be within the intent of our hosts and I've sent a query they didn't answer, so maybe one of you might have a reason why it might be a good idea or a bad one. If so, please let me know.

Oh, and there would be prizes, maybe lots of them.

Visit the Author's blog

Chapter 1 A Young Virgin to Lie in Thy Bosom

The Swarm

    The swarm was a semi-independent entity. It was composed of about a 100 million autonomous segments that were each in turn formatted with 23 out of 46 possible processors. Each segment was formed completely developed with an inherited memory of everything that had ever happened to the swarm and its carrier. The process of commencing life as a mature segment with all of the experience of a million lifetimes was so alien that it was nearly impossible for the human mind to envision. The exchange of information between the segments created a network sufficiently complex to produce an awareness of itself. In other words, the Swarm was sentient.

    Even though the swarm as a whole was sentient, the awareness of its existence was somehow shared in such a way that each segment was also aware of itself. Each individual segment was not just aware of itself as a separate being, but simultaneously aware of itself as a part of the whole.

    It was believed, by the Swarm itself, that the information processing capacity of its segments was the cause of its sentience. Each segment acted as a single part of a nearly infinite array of parallel processors. This had the effect of giving the Swarm as a whole, a nearly infinite capacity to think and reason.

    So, while the intellectual capacity of the individual parts was on the level of a handy-capped moron, the intelligence of the swarm as a whole was awesome. In human terms, the Swarm would be called an “Idiot Savant” because it remembered everything but had no common sense.

    The inherited memory gave the Swarm a sense of being immortal. As a result, none of its segments thought of the end of their existence as death.

  --------------------------------------------------------------------

    George Marshal frowned at the the Bailiff's litany. After hearing it over and over, it had become as monotonous to him as it was to the Court. The ritual was supposed to inspire respect, but the system was so corrupt that no one involved had any left. Even honest attorneys would grudgingly admit that the system was abused or manipulated as often as not.

“HEAR YE, HEAR YE, THE JUSTICE COURT IN AND FOR THE COUNTY OF LINCOLN, THIS 25 DAY OF NOVEMBER 2006, IS NOW IN SESSION, THE HONORABLE JUDGE ADAMS PRESIDING. ALL ARISE.”

    The Bailiff wasn’t half way through when old man in robes entered. He jumped up steps and was seated behind the bench before the order to rise. Grudgingly, George had started to “rise”, thinking that for an old man, the Judge was pretty spry. It had to be an indication of an easy life.

    Like George, everyone else only managed to get halfway up before the Judge growled, “Okay, I know no one wants to be here, not even me. I’m just as anxious to get home for Thanksgiving as anyone, so let’s get this show on the road. Arraignments first, so the deputies can get the inmates back and head home. Clerk, where’s the docket?” The courtroom’s occupants immediately settled back into their seats.

    The hick town municipal Court was unusual. The contrast between Judge Adam’s jurisdiction and a normal courtroom was as great as that between the rancher’s homemade bib coveralls across the aisle and the attorney’s tailored suit in the front row. As informal as it was, George was amazed at how little difference there was in the results of the Court’s procedures on the people.

    A woman on the sunny side of 40 handed the Judge the docket from her cubicle-without-walls. Then, seconds later, she held out another explaining that there was a last minute addition because someone at the jail thought a prisoner ought to be released for Thanksgiving.

    With a smirk on his face, the Judge was reviewing the list as a door in the opposite side of the Courtroom opened. Everyone except the Judge turned to watch a string of men in orange shuffle in using the 6-inch steps that were all their hobbles would allow. George was surprised that the prisoners were chained together. They don’t look like murderers. The police must be in a hurry because of the holiday, he thought.

    Bringing up the end, a woman shuffled in the same small steps. Almost as if they were being put on display, the men were directed to a row of seats placed at right angles to the room. The impression of being on display was increased as they sat down by the way their restraints forced them into an awkward posture. While they were fidgeting, clearly embarrassed by the chains, the woman was mostly hidden behind them.

    At the woman’s appearance, George sat up and paid attention. Belatedly, the bailiff’s droning penetrated his awareness. “November 25, 2006,” he mused, “my birthday”. Maybe it would be a lucky birthday.

    Focusing his attention on the potential present, he noted that she was more girl than woman. The orange jumpsuit did nothing for her appearance. Hanging on her 5’4” frame, it was baggy enough so that her long stringy brown hair was the primary evidence of her gender.

    He’d never seen any of the prisoners appearing in court with makeup and assumed that they didn’t allow any. The lack of makeup and the stress of jail gave her face a grayish pallor. Overall, her expressionless face and body language inspired a sense of despair much deeper than the others.

    She hadn’t raised her head since coming through the door, so George couldn’t guess her age. Even if he’d been able see her face, he knew that the effect of jail and court on most perps added 10 years to their apparent age. Still the slim figure disguised by the jumpsuit argued for a girl. From somewhere deep inside came the feeling his search was over.

    As if on cue, she looked up when her name was called. “Courtney Dobson?”

    Standing up, she looked timidly towards the Judge. Her attitude was certainly consistent with what he needed. In fact, George felt an intangible attraction, as if she was calling out for help. She matched the mental image he'd formed of Abishag perfectly. For a brief instant, the hunger he started with 3 months ago for a young innocent girl assailed his mind.

    With an intensity he'd seldom achieved, George clamped down on his emotions. As reason reasserted control, Courtney reappeared as a frightened teenager. He just hoped she hadn’t committed a major crime? Hastily, he opened a file folder and grabbed a pen.

    “Do you understand that you’ve been charged with some very serious crimes and that if you’re convicted, you would be sentenced to a substantial time in jail?” the Judge asked, before looking up.

    With a look of panic on her face, she nodded.

    Turning to the prosecuting attorney, the Judge asked, “What is going on with this case? There isn’t a request to set bail, she doesn’t have an attorney of record, please tell me why she’s here and why the normal procedures haven’t been followed.”

    “I don’t have any idea your honor. She isn’t listed on my copy of the docket, so she shouldn’t be here. I don’t even have her file. The County Attorney is handling this case himself and, unfortunately, he left town for the holiday. I did overhear a conversation about her refusing to say even a single word since she was taken into custody, but that is all I know.”

    Turning back to the girl, the Judge asked, “Do you understand that you have the right to an attorney, and that even if you can’t afford one, I will appoint one to defend you?”

    Opening her mouth, she looked as if she was being tortured. Come on, you can do it, George urged, sotto voce. As if in response to his urging, she wheezed “I don’t have any money. My mother said she isn’t responsible for me any more because now I’m eighteen. She told me not to even try to come back home.” Her voice was weak as if it hurt to push air through her voice box. She was barely audible, even in the hush of the Court.

    George noted that there wasn’t anyone else in the Courtroom that had even a passing interest. That had to mean that, if she had family or friends, they didn’t care enough to offer even the barest emotional support.

    She was 18. Wow! She was barely 18! And there was probably no family to deal with! Wow! Wow! Wow! Now, if only she hadn’t done something really bad. The Judge had said “a serious felony, but George knew from experience that that could be something as innocuous as giving the wrong person the finger.”

    Judge Adams ruled, “Okay, so there isn’t any reason to set bail. I’ll send the public defender to meet with you after the holidays. If someone does come forward who can post bail, you can have them request it exparte.” His demeanor had softened dramatically after her statement. The Judge had a grin similar to Mona Lisa’s that appeared when he felt he had achieved justice in spite of the attorneys and the law. A smirk that George liked, and the he was wearing it now.

    George had watched this Judge for nearly 3 months and was well aware of his antipathy towards “The System”. Just like CPS, it consistently tried to pound square pegs into round holes. The idea was to frighten the perps into a plea bargain. Trials were expensive and time consuming, so if they could scare the defendants with a long list of charges, even those who were innocent would often accept a “Plea in Abeyance” to the avoid the chance of years in prison.

    Then, once the perp was on probation, they’d watch for the smallest infraction so they could nail him without a trial. The rumor that the police were frustrated by not being able to keep criminals off the streets was mostly propaganda. The number of good people George had seen turned into bitter enemies of society and bent on revenge far exceeded the number of evil villains.

    Judge Adams hated it when young people with no family support were dropped into the grist mill of the legal system and did everything he could to make the prosecutor’s job as hard as possible. In general, unless the prosecuting attorney had an ax to grind, he would bend over backwards to give the so-called “disadvantaged” a break. More often than not, this had the effect of letting the real troublemakers off with a slap on the wrist.

    George closed the folder in disgust as the court moved on. They hadn’t even read the charges. He wondered if she’d be back before visiting hours were over and whether they allowed visiting on Thanksgiving.

    This was definitely the best chance he’d had since he’d dreamed up this scheme three months ago. So, it was time to get to busy. His first step would be to see if he could get access to the case file. Outside the courtroom, he turned toward the clerk’s office. Lincoln County was small and the clerk’s office didn’t even have a counter, let alone the security windows found in most Courthouses.

    The nameplate on the only occupied desk said Mabble Housen. “That’s a funny way to spell it,” George thought. “Happy Thanksgiving Mabble.” Mabble looked up with a wary glance. She’d been around long enough to have heard almost every scam in the book and as often as not, undue familiarity was a preliminary to a request that was at best unethical if not illegal. “It is pronounced Mabel, isn’t it?” George answered to her challenge.

    “Yes, my mother insisted on naming me after my grandmother, but my dad worked for the Telephone Company. To avoid the possibility of the name being confused with Ma Bell, they finally agreed to change the spelling.” He noted his question had penetrated her distrust.

    “I can certainly understand that,” George smiled. “I’ve had a few run-ins with AT&T myself. In fact, my favorite long distance carrier is NO BELL.com,” he added with an even bigger grin.

    Hoping he’d breached her aura, he asked, “I need information about a case.” Holding out a slip with the case #, he asked, “Could you please tell me what is available in the public record and if you need a written request.”

    Using his coercive arrogance, George carefully crafted his inquiry to dampen her suspicions. He knew that if the suspicions of a bureaucrat were raised and then she was convinced to act like a public servant, she'd give more than she would give voluntarily. His question was structured to force her to decide what was publicly available. His wording informed her that he knew she couldn’t deny him anything in the public record and that he would cause her grief if she withheld anything he had a right to.

    Just to be certain she would behave the way he intended, George waved his left arm in front of her in a flourish that added emphasis to his request and smiled as her eyes were drawn to the missing hand.

    Knowing that the anxious half of her attention was distracted, he used an accusation to deceive. “I think this girl is being grossly mistreated.” Picking up her nameplate in a way that emphasized his deformed thumb, he smiled even wider. “I hope you can help me without a hassle.”

    Without understanding how she’d been manipulated, Mabble realized her own reputation and performance had been placed on the scales of justice. After turning off her scam radar, she entered the case # into the computer. Even though she didn’t understand how, she felt subconsciously threatened. Instinct told her not to create evidence that could be challenged. Instead of printing it, she turned the monitor so that George could take what he wanted. “Is this the one? Courtney Dobson?”

    George scanned the monitor quickly before answering.

Courtney Dobson
Booking date 11/20/2006
Birth date 11/20/1988
Charges Breaking and entering
Possession of a controlled substance Vandalism, Felony theft
Prosecuting Attorney for the County; Michael Edmonds

    “Yeah, that’s her.” After he’d memorized everything available on the monitor, he asked, “Do you know anything about her?” His question convinced Mabble he really was looking for a way to help.

    “Are you related?” she asked.

    “No, Just a friend”, he continued, stretching the truth without really breaking it. Silently he added, “I am probably her best friend, even if she doesn’t know it.”

    He didn’t match the profile of a con artist Mabble decided. “Well, I guess I can tell you what was in the newspaper. Apparently, a gang of kids broke into one of the expensive cabins by the reservoir to have a party. They trashed the place, smashing everything breakable, spraying graffiti on the walls, stealing anything that could be carried and leaving Courtney behind, stoned and naked. She was in the hospital until yesterday and for a while they were afraid she had OD’d. The police wanted the names of the gang and when she wouldn’t or couldn’t tell them, they decided to drop the whole thing on her.”

    “Can you tell me when it was published.” Her description didn’t sound like a newspaper report. They usually didn’t describe actions of the police and courts in criticizing tones. “This morning, I think,” Mabble answered.

    “You didn’t happen to bring the paper to work, did you?”

    Alarmed, Mabble babbled, “Maybe, I don’t remember.” This man was dangerous. He didn’t let anything slip. She hoped she hadn’t added anything that would come back to bite her. Hoping he’d be less likely to cause trouble, she did what she could to help him.”

    George noted that he’d caught her, but didn’t have time to follow it up. The voice in his head was screaming that this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for. “Is the police report available? Is it in the case file?”

    “Yes”, Mabble answered, “but the file is in the Courtroom.” Not wanting to be caught again, she passed the buck. “Besides, It would be better if you got a copy from the sheriff’s office. They’re required to give you one on request.” He recognized both her attempt to divert his attention and the change from worried bureaucrat to concerned grandmother with a well-concealed smirk.

    “If you’re going out to visit her, the sheriff’s office is in the same building. By the time you get the report, she should be back so you could see her. Would you like me to call the jail for you and set up a visit?”

    "That would be very helpful”, George beamed, letting her off the hook. On impulse and without the any idea where it came from, he added, “Do you think it would be possible for me to donate pumpkin pies so the inmates could have a taste of the holiday? I wouldn’t have the vaguest idea about how to arrange it, but after seeing them in Court, I suspect that even the smallest courtesy might be a good influence on them. They don’t seem to be very thankful right now.”

    That was all Mabble needed. She was now convinced that George was a good guy. Believing he wouldn’t bite the hand feeding him, she needed to make him grateful. “You bet,” she said, then noting a cell phone on his belt, she added, “Give me your cell number and I’ll get some details.” She was almost at the point where, if she were offered proof he was a bad guy, she’d refuse to believe it.

    Minutes later, as he was leaving, George gloated. “Was it really arrogance if you were better than people thought you were pretending to be? Not only was he going to get the girl, he could end up being a hero, and a Good Samaritan, all at once. And she was only 5 days past legal.”

    On the way to his pickup, George paused to watch as the prisoners were led out of a side door to the prisoner transport van. When a deputy came his way, George had to ask, “What’s with the hobbles and chains?”

    The deputy laughed. “That’s just Judge Adams trying scare the kids straight. They got caught pulling a prank at the rodeo grounds last Friday, and he wants to show them the difference between what happens to juveniles and how they’ll be treated now that they’re eighteen.”

    “Will it work?” George asked with a smile.

    Laughing again, the Deputy answered, “For most of them. The Judge goes to a lot of work to find a new way to impress each year’s crop of graduates. The hard core delinquents are another story.”

    With a wave at the deputy, George followed the prisoner transport to the jail. It was only a few minutes drive, so George was surprised when, as he opened the door, he was accosted by a heavy set woman that gave the slang term “broad” new meaning. He knew thinking about one of the cogs in the bureaucracy that way was dangerous, but the major, 240-pound, 6-foot tall obstruction appearing unexpectedly in his path, temporarily circumvented his social inhibitions. Besides she was really “broad”.

    “George Marshal?” she demanded, in the tone of voice used by drill sergeants. At his nod, she held out the police report. “Mabble asked me to get you a copy.” The Broad couldn’t figure out why “Bloodhound Mabble” would do favors for some menial, but brown nosing often moved people to act in uncharacteristic ways. She certainly knew she had her own buttons and that he’d pushed more than one of them. Then, as if he were Santa Claus asking a 12-year-old what she wanted for Christmas, she begged, “Are you really going to supply pies to the jail for Thanksgiving?”

    George smiled. He had no idea where the idea had come from, but he was sure the pies would be the least expensive payment-for-service he’d ever received from Lincoln County. He decided to see if he could milk more from his investment. “I was sitting in Court during the arraignments, and I couldn’t help thinking about how little the prisoners had to be thankful for. How many pies could be put to good use?”

    “A dozen would do, if you can swing it. You’ve no idea how thankful we are for this sort of thing. The prevailing attitude among elected officials is that, if you are in jail, you must be a criminal and if you are a criminal, you don’t deserve anything to be thankful for. They’ve set things up so we can’t buy something like this even when the suppliers are willing to provide it for less than regular meals. So, we’re grateful when someone offers it as a gift which they can’t turn away.”

    With a right hand turn, the “Broad” shifted the conversation, “Mabble said you were coming to visit Courtney Dobson. Is that right?” Her tone of voice made George wonder if there was another soft spot he could exploit.

    “Yes”, George responded quickly to the change in subject. “But before we get distracted, can you tell me where to bring the pies?” The thought of the service he was getting for $60 in pies, less than an hour’s time of the cheapest attorney, made him want to lock in his bargain.

    “Just bring them here. Everyone knows about it, so anyone you can find will take care of them. If you’ll just take a seat in one of these meeting rooms, I’ll bring Courtney to you in about 10 minutes. These are rooms where attorneys meet their clients.”

    Neither of them realized that the pies had circumvented normal jail procedures. The visit wasn’t logged in, authorized or even documented because Courtney wasn’t admitted back into the jail before the visit. Without his even knowing it, George’s solution was more than perfect once again.

    “Thank you so much,” George responded. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t catch your name”, he finished, not wanting her to get away before he knew who to call for the rest of what he expected to be paid for the pies. From the sound of things, mainly the fact that everyone knew about it in less than 10 minutes, he would probably be able to extract a little extra service from some of the jail staff as well. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if half the county knew about it by next week.

    “Deedee Haloway”, she answered, “and you are the one who should be thanked”, she squeezed in as she closed the door.

    The feeling that his birthday wish was coming true reminded him of a song;

I’ll sing happy birthday to me -- My dreams have come to be
I’ll sing happy birthday to me -- I hope to have you for eternity
Oh ho ho ho ho -- This is my birthday song
Oh ho ho ho ho -- Celebration all night long
Oh ho ho ho ho -- My dreams have come to be
We sing all together: happy birthday to me

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The Sexual Implications of "The Apple Didn't Fall".

A Discussion of the the Science Behind

The Apple didn't fall

To; TSC who wants to remain anonymous and not be bothered by answers to his claims

Problem #1 - Experiment shows that objects are attracted to the Earth equally, regardless of their electric charge.

[[[[[This is not true. Experiment shows that if there is any difference in how objects with varying electric charges are attracted to the Earth it is too small to be measured. Since the variation of electric charge we can produce is on the order of 10 to the minus 36^th of the charge at the center of the earth, this is to be expected. It also means that such experiments of no evidence in support of or against the hypothesis.]]]]

If the attraction were the result of electromagnetic attraction,

[[[[[[There is no such force as electromagnetic attraction of repulsion. The known forces are Electric, magnetic and gravity.]]]]]

objects with one charge would be attracted, while those with the opposite charge would be repelled.

[[[[[This statement is also untrue. The only instance where like charges are repelled is when they are equal.

An iron atom with a + 20 charge (missing 20 electrons) will try to steal an electron from any atom with a less positive charge and the two will be attracted. They can actually be said to having opposing charges because a +19 iron atom will be negatively charged with respect to the +20 atom. There is only one possible object that can exist on the surface that is positive with respect to the center of the earth and that is an alpha particle (a hydrogen without an electron. And they are repelled by gravity.]]]]

Problem #2 - Gauss' Law.  This law, verified by experiment, tells us that if the observable net charge of a set of objects is zero, the electromagnetic attraction of them will also be zero.

[[[[[Gauss's law is irrelevant because there is no such thing as an object with a zero net charge with respect to the center of the Earth. Gauss's law, properly phrased tells us that a set of objects with equal charge will be be attracted or repelled. Again, there is no electromagnetic attraction.]]]]]

 Thus, if the Earth were positively charged in the interior, but negatively charged in the exterior so that the charges balanced, it would exert the same electromagnetic force on objects outside it as if it had no charge at all.

[[[[[But the charges are not balanced. Earth has a net positive charge in excess of the negatively charged matter on the surface. And there is no object or particle (except alphas) that can exist on the surface that can exist for longer than 10^-24 seconds without becoming negatively charged with respect to the center of the earth. (excess electrons will neutralize some of its positive charge.]]]]]

Problem #3 - Troy says that to determine the mass of the moon requires solving an equation with three unknowns; the teacher says it requires solving three equations with four unknowns.  Both, however, are incorrect.  The mass of the Earth is known, from the acceleration it gives to falling objects.

[[[[[The fact is that we don't even know what mass is. Theoretical physicists hypothesize that there is a hypothetical particle called a Higgs boson that somehow imbues matter with the quality we call mass.

The only facts that are certain is that there is some characteristic of matter that is related to forces by the equation F=ma.]]]]

 (Note that while the force isn't known a priori, F=ma and F=G(m*M)/r^2.  Thus, ma=G(m*M)/r^2, which gives us a=GM/r^2.  This gives us an equation with two knowns and two unknowns, with the mass of the Earth and the universal constant of gravitation being the two unknowns.  G was determined by Cavendish's famous experiment, using two known masses and measuring their gravitational attraction (an experiment which I know works, because I've personally reproduced it in Intermediate Physics lab in college).  With G being known, we have only one unknown (the mass of the Earth), which we can then solve for.

[[[[[Cavendish's experiment showed only that there was an attraction between solid lead balls. Troy's hypothesis stated that if an electric field existed in a body which varied inversely in proportion to the square of the distance from it's center, the force it exerts would be indistinguishable from gravity. By definition, density is a function of the mean distance between nuclei. When nuclei are closer, they can share the charge of neighboring atoms leaving free electrons which repel each other and move to distribute themselves equally around the outside of the object.

In effect, the electric cause of gravity Troy hypothesized would have to work on all object or it would be distinguishable from gravity. And mass becomes that quality of matter that is affected by an electric field.]]]]

Once we know the mass of the Earth, determining the mass of the Moon is done by observing where the center point that the Earth-Moon system revolves around is.  This can be determined by astronomical observations which show the "wobble" of the Earth as it moves around the center of the system.  Knowing that, we can determine the mass of the Moon relative to the Earth... and since we know the mass of the Earth, we can determine the mass of the Moon.

Knowing the mass of the Earth and how fast it revolves around the Sun, we can then determine the mass of the Sun.

[[[[All you are saying is that you are using three equations with four unknowns to solve for the unknown quality you refer to as mass and the unknown force you refer to as gravity.]]]]

In your epilogue, you predict that "the speed of light is not a constant and the electric field is the ether through which is travels" -- the Michaelson-Morley experiment (another one that I was required to perform in my advanced physics lab), however, proves that this is not the case.  The speed of light in a given medium *is* a constant.

[[[[[Only because the Michaelson-Morley experiment could not be preformed outside the stationary and uniform electric field of the solar system. It assumed that the ether was moving, it isn't.]]]]]

You also predict that light should be affected by electromagnetic fields.

[[[[[Again, there is no such thing as an electromagnetic field.]]]]]

 Experiment shows that it is not.  You state that "the wave transmits by moving charged particles in the field through which it moves."  This is also easily disproved by the simple fact that electromagnetic waves will propagate in a vacuum.

[[[[There is no such thing as an absolute vacuum. No matter where you look, there are particles measured in density per square cc, cm, ck, or cubic parsec. An electric field is proportional to distance. Every particle within the field (the entire solar system) is affected by the wave (an increase in the intensity of the field)]]]]

So... the arguments Troy advances about not being able to determine the masses of the Sun, Moon, and planets are easily refuted (and, while you don't state what Professor Marshal is a professor of, any physics or astronomy professor should know how they are determined).  The theory advanced does not hold up, since it ignores the fact that, if "gravity" were actually the electromagnetic force, it would attract (and repel!) objects based on their charge rather than their mass and Gauss' Law.  And the predictions given based on the theory do not hold up.

Lastly, your point that "all of science collapses when one of the fundamental laws turns out to be merely a local phenomenon".  There is simply no reasonable basis for this.  Sure, if gravity were disproved, everything that has been determined relying on gravity would have to be re-examined -- but there's plenty of science that has nothing at all to do with gravity.  Biology, chemistry, electromagnetism....

[[[[[And you think that Biology aren't chemistry affected by electric field or gravity? What holds a molecule together?What happens when you subject an organism to a higher or lower electric field?]]]]]

Indeed, if you truly believe that disproving gravity would collapse "all of science", then your own explanation makes no sense, since you're attempting to use another part of science (electromagnetic theory) as your alternative explanation.  If "all of science" were collapsed, you could no longer rely on *any* of it.

[[[[There is a vast difference between Scientific observations and science supposition. We never could rely on the latter and we'll always be able to rely on the former. Until you understand the difference, you are a pseudo scientist.]]]]]]

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The Apple Didn't Fall

The Apple Didn't Fall

“Professor Marshal, what causes gravity?”

“Let's see, you're Troy aren't you?” The professor was always amused by new freshmen and their naive ideas of science. “The fact is, we don't know. Nobody has ever proposed a reasonable hypothesis that is consistent with all the things we can observe.”

“Yeah, but” Troy blurted in the time honored way that made the professor wince, “the textbook says, scientific laws must be true, universal, and absolute. They're the cornerstone of scientific discovery, because if a law ever did not apply, then all science based upon that law would collapse.

“If we don't know what causes it, doesn't that mean that all of science is based on an assumption?”

“OK, normally we wouldn't have time to talk about frivolous things as the validity of scientific laws, but since this is the first day, maybe a discussion will help me to get to know you better. But if we're going to have a discussion, let's do it right by defining terms. Newton's law of universal gravitation states that every massive particle attracts every other massive particle with a force that is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. We can measure the acceleration of a falling object and like Newton's apple, it's 32 feet/second squared.”

At this point, Troy put up his hand, but the Professor ignored it. “When we observe the planets and moons, it's obvious that there's a force holding them in their orbits, otherwise, by another of Newton's laws-of-motion, they would fly off into space.”

Becoming impatient, Troy began waving. With a sigh, the Professor finally acknowledged him, “Yes, Troy?”

“I think we understand the basic grade school stuff.” Troy looked around to see if any of the other students objected. “What we don't know is how they determined what the mass is of the sun or the moon. There are three unknowns in the equation, the mass of both objects and the force required to maintain them in orbit. You can't solve the equation for all three at the same time.”

Slightly more impressed, the Professor elevated the age at which his lecture was aimed. “Of course, we can't measure the mass, but each planet or moon is affected by more than one object. The earth, for example, revolves around the sun and the moon revolves around the earth. Each of the three affects the others. So we don't have just one equation with three unknowns, we have three equations with four unknowns.”

With a smile, Troy sprang his trap. “But how do you know the unknowns are the mass? Has there ever been an experiment where the mass of both the objects drawn together by gravity was measured directly? What if the unknowns in the equations represent something else other than the mass? How could we tell?”

“Actually, we couldn't tell, but no one has ever suggested any other property of the planets or moons that could be responsible,” the Professor answered blithely.

“What about the electrical charge of a body? If the charges are opposite, they'd exert the same kind of force,” Troy offered, refusing to let go.

Without a by-your-leave, another student jumped in, “That's a really stupid idea. What about all the stuff that's neutral, it'd all go flying off into space.”

“Let's see, according to the seating chart, you'd be Charlie? Is that right? OK, Charlie, let's see if Troy can explain why that wouldn't happen,”

Like a kid in a candy shop, Troy burbled, “It's simple really. In an electric field created by a plasma, nothing is neutral. On earth, there is a voltage between the earth and the sky of about 100 volts every 6 feet so your head is negatively charged with respect to your feet and that field exerts a force. In the air, electrically charged particles can move around so the field we can measure is changing all the time. But in the solid body of the earth, the charges are fixed, so the positive charge would be greater and greater towards the center.

“The neutral Charlie's thinking of is where an atom has an equal of electrons and protons, but it isn't really neutral because the protons are in the nucleus and the electrons are on the outside. That allows the electrons of one atom to be attracted to the nucleus of another when they are closer to it and is what allows atoms to bind together into molecules. Even if you did have a neutral atom, it would still be attracted to an atom that didn't have enough electrons to balance its protons.

“But we aren't talking about an apple being attracted to the ground, that isn't the effect of gravity. The force would have to be an attraction between everything on the surface of the Earth and an accumulation of positive charge at the center of the Earth. Isn't that right?” he ended looking smug.

“That's good Troy, but there's another reason why an electric field couldn't cause the effect of gravity.” the Professor resumed his condescending tone, “The force generated by an electric field is 10 to the 36 th power times more powerful than gravity and its force varies inversely to distance while gravity varies inversely in proportion to the square of the distance. That really is a very big difference. No matter where you are in an electric field, the force it generates is always the same.”

And then Troy asked the question that turned the world upside down. “So, under what conditions would the force of an electric field be indistinguishable from gravity? What if the field isn't uniform? What if the electric charge on the earth varied in an inversely proportional way according to the square of your distance from the center?”

Once again Charlie interrupted, “But then you're right back where you started from. Mass would simply be defined as being the property of a particle responding to the electric field instead of a gravitational field. It would still be mass, so nothing would be different. And even if it could be, why wouldn't the positive charge repel itself an cause the Earth to break apart.”

Troy answered before the Professor could get a word in edgewise, “All the positive charge is inside the solid body of the Earth and is contained by the pressure of the negatively charged plasma on the surface being pulled towards the center. Everything from the top of the atmosphere to a point halfway, to the center of the Earth is negatively charged which includes all the volatiles. The only thing that the repulsion of like charges does is to spread equivalently charged plasma in concentric shells around the core.”

With a troubled look on his face the Professor responded, “Actually, not only is there no possibility of the repulsion of charges breaking up the Earth, if Troy's hypothesis was right, it wouldn't just make a difference, it would turn the world upside down. The law-of-gravity is a law only if it is always true. If the force of gravity is caused by an electric field, the field could change and the law-of-gravity wouldn't be a law. The sun wouldn't be a nuclear furnace, black holes couldn't exist and the big bang didn't happen. For your sake Troy, I hope to God you are wrong, because, if not, you've just destroyed the life's work of thousands and offended more people than Galileo.”

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00 A Stone Cut Without Hands Prologue

A Stone Cut Without Hands

Prologue

    A Virgin to lie in my bosom, George thought. That’d solve all my problems. Who would believe I’d find an answer like that in the Bible?

1 Kings, King James Bible

1 Now king David was old and stricken in years; and they covered him with clothes, but he gat no heat.

2 Wherefore his servants said unto him, Let there be sought for my lord the king a young virgin: and let her stand before the king, and let her cherish him, and let her lie in thy bosom, that my lord the king may get heat.

3 So they sought for a fair damsel throughout all the coasts of Israel, and found Abishag ….

    George could certainly empathize with the old king. The idea of an innocent girl who would cherish him and keep him warm at night was intoxicating. But he wasn't a king and he had an awful lot of problems. The chances of acquiring a girl didn't seem likely, especially in this age when an old man wanting a girl was considered a dirty old man.

    The thought that he was perceived as a dirty old man, refocused his attention on his problems. If only he hadn’t caught that damn germ. That was the cause of all his problems. It hadn’t made him sick, it was more like spiritual cancer. He’d never have noticed the disease if he hadn’t stumbled on a virus that killed it.

    Initially, he'd expected his discovery to make him famous, but government elite wouldn't be elite if they didn't crave power; they didn’t want to be cured of the craving. Most believed the sheeple (people who act like sheep) needed wolves to save them from their own stupidity. The shit hit the fan when George had cured a few who blamed him for the loss of their elite status.

    The problem was the cured thought the cure was worse than the disease, especially those who had abused their power. Half those he’d treated were convinced he’d robbed them of ambition rather than cured corruption. They’d made it plain he'd pay dearly if they caught him, so now he had to stay below the radar. And they would have had the power to catch him if he hadn't cured them, in spite of his low profile.

    His self-pity was aborted when he reiterated his motto; every problem was an opportunity. Whenever he really needed it, ingenious solutions came in the form of a still small voice that was always right. It was almost as if he was being guided by as unseen force. He was so sure of his intuition’s answers that people thought he was arrogant. But his schemes always worked, at least, they did if he could persuade others to follow. He’d rather be considered normal, but ignoring the ingenious, always-right solutions always lead to disaster.

    Apparent arrogance wasn’t the only fault he was accused of. The ingenious solutions often involved leading people to cooperate in spite of their reluctance. That was the cause of his reputation for being coercive. It was funny how they always blamed him for their decisions after they'd fallen under his spell.

    Of course there were people who hated him. Those he persuaded to cooperate, to whom he showed a mutually beneficial course of action. When they realized that George’s interests matched their own only briefly, that his goals looked to a future beyond what they could see, those people felt he was guilty of deception. They believed he'd used them without acknowledging they'd been using him.

    George was well aware that he was thought to be arrogant, pretentious, deceptive, paranoid and sometimes, coercive, but his mission required him to use all the arrogance and persuasion he could muster. Whenever society’s expectations threatened, he was reminded of a story he’d heard in Sunday school as a child. He sympathized with what Noah faced when people called him crazy. But Noah was responsible for only his own family. George was terrified his failure to cure a thousand Hitler’s would make him responsible for the deaths of millions.

    He’d foolishly attempted to warn of the disease by publishing proof in a scientific journal. If he was hadn't used a pen name, the label “crazy” was the least of the weapons he would have faced. The real problem was that politicians live by the Law of the Jungle. To cure one robbed him of not only his ability abuse his power; it also destroyed his ability to defend himself against others abusing their power.

    The accumulation of power into fewer and fewer hands was bringing American to its knees, but without proof, the idea that fascism was caused by a microorganism was crazier than the ark. So, George kept the secret and worked to implement the cure without help other than the unseen hand he thought of as his intuition.

    His mission required resources and liquidity wasn’t the only one he lacked. He’d finally reached the stage where his aching joints forced him to seek help. His impecuniosity was the result of people he’d trusted that were too proud to accept his solutions. So he was stuck here, alone in a swap meet, casting his pearls before swine in an attempt to squeeze out the few dollars he needed to keep his belly button from meeting his backbone.

    Chiding himself for complaining, George reminded himself that he wasn’t starting over. He was sitting on a quarter million in inventory and his suppliers loved him. The infrastructure of his former business was easily worth a million. If only he was younger, his business could be back to a million a month in no time.

    What he needed was youth, maybe a girl just released after years of incarceration by the public schools. Abishag from the Bible resurfaced in his thoughts. A young virgin to lie in my bosom. The mental image of Abishag juxtaposed against a teenager steeped TV sitcoms and newspeak propaganda was disheartening. Today’s girls would run screaming from a stranger and thanks to the movie, “The Fugitive”, George was definitely strange. He was, after all, missing body parts and driving a 30-year old house-on-wheels resembling a Brontosaurus. He was as far from being King David as it was possible to be.

    He knew of several famous personalities who’d found a girl in Malaysia, but that took money. Besides, he was hungry for a girl he could share ideas with, someone who could understand the mission. Unfortunately the same culture he wanted to share was training children to want fame and fortune. Girls were taught they could buy love and security with sex and he couldn’t see himself as a lecher.

    George watched a girl across the aisle. Ivan and his wife occupied the swap meet space, and she was their granddaughter. They’d taken her in after her parents were busted on drug charges. He knew she kept Ivan in the black, but she was also fond of telling everyone how much she hated being there and how fast she’d be gone when she turned 18. So the problem wasn’t just finding a girl, but also creating a reason for her to stay. “What kind of girl would choose to help an old man and be grateful enough to stay?” He knew there had to be an answer.

    As clear as a voice in his head, a bolt of inspiration struck out of the clear blue sky. All he needed was to find a girl who was expecting something worse. If she were facing years in prison, abuse by a father or hunger after running away, it wouldn’t take anything to be a better choice.

    Once he had the solution, George knew an unseen hand had just supplied the means to complete his mission. What he didn’t know was that the solution was also designed to fill the void in his heart, one he wasn't even aware of. He could pick and choose because the choices available weren’t limited even by his imagination. He’d find a cute girl who would be grateful for anything his meager resources could offer in return.

    What an adventure! He was suddenly filled with hunger for that innocence king David was offered. Nothing could compare to the love and trust of a young girl, eternally grateful for being rescued. He knew just where to find potential choices being paraded across the auction bloc in literal chains like slaves. The idea that humans were still treated like property in America, the land of the free, would be scandalous to the average person. But George was one of the few who recognized that TV news was mostly propaganda. He knew there were hundreds enslaved every day in every city. They came in every size, shape and color.

    The juvenile justice system was designed to create criminals, a class even lower than slaves. Juveniles were taught they weren’t responsible by being rewarded for their crimes. After breaking the law, they were assigned to government programs that provided food, clothing and shelter their parents couldn’t afford. Once alienated from their families, the government rewards would end on the magic day they turned 18. When the rules changed, chance assured that some of those at the short end of the economic scale would be caught unable or unwilling to adapt to their arbitrarily granted adulthood.

    All he needed to do was visit a courtroom where criminals were being arraigned and watch for the right girl. She'd probably be the child of divorced parents, a bitter feminist and a deadbeat dad. He'd pick one that was reasonably intelligent, just brainwashed into believing she could be happy if she followed the rules and didn’t make waves.

    He’d prefer a country girl who’d recently been caught up in the system. The rewards offered to juveniles tended to encourage those starting at puberty to become habitual delinquents. While the media showed young offenders a parade of the rich and famous, all they were offered as an alternative to crime was an 8 to 5 with a living wage cut in half by taxes. The road to wealth was very narrow, and contrary to the government’s propaganda, crime did pay, at least for a while.

    Country girls were not as numerous as city delinquents, but could be found in any backwater county courthouse. He couldn’t afford the cost of getting her off for a serious crime, but knew how often poor kids were dumped on for petty crimes. Especially if the legal vampires believed they'd sucked up all of the green blood that could be drained from their families.

    There was no reason to risk looking at jail-bait, so he wouldn’t bother with the juvenile court. Not that he wouldn’t prefer a younger girl who might be more open minded and adaptable. It was just that the system knew that too. They had created a powerful bureaucracy called Child Protective Services to make sure that the square pegs were pounded firmly into the round holes, no matter what the damage to the peg. And CPS didn't like it when someone tried to liberate one of its pegs.

    What really satisfied George’s sense of fair play was that besides procuring a girl, he might well be saving her from a life of crime and/or misery.

    Intuitively, George knew it was a scheme as crazy as Noah’s giant boat, but he also knew it was a solution more perfect than any the voice in his head had ever provided. It never occurred to him that he was following someone else's plan.

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