Everyday Junglist
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About me. You know how everyone says to be a successful writer you should focus in one or two areas. I continue to prove them correct.
Stories (714)
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They Have No Language
There was only one rule: don't open the door. That was what I was told when I first joined the project team in the high arctic. They had found a door, deep underground, at the base of an ancient city, and had excavated and explored in all directions around it, but had not yet dared open it, and by rule, none could. I asked the expedition leader about it on my second day. He went silent for a moment, bowed his head, then looked me straight in the eyes and said. "At its base our world, at least our understanding of it is restricted to what we can describe with language. The rules of grammar define what we can do with language and thus those rules define what the world is for us." He paused for a moment, and I interjected. "Okay Professor Wittgenstein, I get it. Next you are going to tell me about language games and the private language argument. What does that have to do with the door and the rule about not opening it?" He stared at me silently, no laugh nor even a smile at my remark. "The things which live behind that door have no language, they have no grammar, thus they have no world, not really, at least not a world we could understand. If they were to find their way into our world all would be lost. We inhabit a world comprised of rules, including the one about the door." I thought for a moment then asked "What about on their side? What's to stop them from opening it from their side? Do they have the same rule?" The leader's face grew even grimmer and darker as he replied "Remember what I said. They have no language. What do you think?"
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Horror
Brink of War
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. That was a thing about which the Goddess very rarely liked to talk, for it was herself who had caused the river to reverse course. She had done it out of spite, the queen had rejected her offer to join her in spreading the word of her church and philosophy, and so she had turned the river around to destroy all the lands of her kingdom, then banished her to another dimension where she lived as a lowly maidservant, all her memories of being a Queen and her former life erased. It was a harsh punishment indeed but the Goddess was capricious and sometimes cruel. She only took men as her servants but would accept women into her church if they desired it. Over the millennia very few had volunteered and those few she had invited to join had each rejected her offer, and all had met equally terrible fates. The bulk of her church was made up of captured men. Most had been forced into servitude as Baj had been so many years ago. Tricked into servitude in his case, but that was a tale for another day.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Fiction
Face the Thing That Should Not Be
'There was only one rule: don’t open the door.' "I'm not a big fan of rules" I said in my best Schwarzenegger voice, as I pulled back the slide on the GAU-21 0.50 caliber mini gun mounted to the right side of the armored battle tank in which I currently sat, dropped my ear protectors down over my ears, and pulled the trigger. The gun could deliver 1,100 rounds per minute and it's barrel spun crazily making a sound like whirling helicopter blades as it expelled white hot death into the door, reducing it to sawdust and ash in seconds. I released the trigger and the barrel slowly came to a stop as smoke rose from it, and from the spot where the decimated door once stood. As the smoke cleared I could see the darkness beyond and a pit of fear rose in my stomach. I experienced a moment of vertigo and it felt as if the heavily armed tank would be sucked into the gaping maw of blackness that had opened before us. As the vertigo subsided a low humming sound could be heard coming from the darkness. Time itself seemed to slow as that humming rose in volume and pitch becoming a screetch that was almost deafening. Luckily I still wore my ear protection as I'm not sure I could have kept my sanity if I had been exposed to the full noise of the thing. And it was a thing which raced straight towards us. A thing that should not be. I said a quick prayer, aimed the mini-gun straight into its monstrous, Chthonian face, pulled back the slide once again, closed my eyes, and squeezed the trigger. The bullets exploded into the ophidian creature and it roared and then all went black.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Horror
The Temple At Ephaistos
The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. "Sounds like something Aphrodite might say" the Goddess snorted in disgust as she read the words aloud from the inscription on the stone tablet which currently sat upon her lap "That whore has vexed me again." Baj winced at the mention of the Goddess Aphrodite. As with Athena, Elyria held a strange fascination bordering on obsession with the Goddess of love, but, unlike with Athena, for Aphrodite, Elyria bore no admiration or grudging respect. Instead she expressed only contempt and a deep seated hatred and jealousy. Whenever her name was spoke aloud he knew he was in for a long winded tirade describing the many faults and shortcomings of Aphrodite and her hordes of "zombies" as Elyria referred to the unfortunate men, who, like himself had been pressed into service of a Goddess mostly against their will. Although his own forced servitude was painful and humiliating, when he thought of Aphrodite's zombies he was thankful for his own fate. Unlike Elyria, when Aphrodite enslaved a man she took not only his body and spirit, but also robbed him of his mind. They became like empty shells, not able to think for themselves, or act in any way without the express approval of Aphrodite herself. Only breathing without permission was allowed. The zombies could not eat, bathe, or even piss or shit without first asking Aphrodite. Many of her men died of starvation or disease, not for lack of food or clean clothes and shelter but because the Goddess simply forgot, or actively withheld, approving their ability to eat or to bath themselves. For a man like Baj, it would be a fate worse then death. After giving Elyria a moment to compose herself Baj dared ask somewhat impertinently "What has she done this time Goddess?" Elyria fumed at the question, her cheeks reddening a bit, biting down softly on her lower pouty lip before replying sharply "Several of her zombies have managed to infiltrate my great temple at Ephaistos and stolen one of my Elyrian spears." The spears were powerful weapons indeed. When thrown by the Goddess they could travel many miles at speeds approaching that of sound, and they always found their target. They were said to have been forged of purissimum argentum by the great dwarven silversmith Skardak Forgehelm and had been given to the Goddess as a gift by the dwarven demiGod AnKaris whose love for Elyria was legendary, at least in the mind of the Goddess. In reality, AnKaris was something of a player having impregnated at least three Goddesses including Elyria in the span of less than 100 years. A timeframe that for a mortal would equate to someething like a week. One of the other impregnated Goddesses happend to be Aphrodite, a fact that no doubt contributed at least in part to Elyria's seething jealousy and hatred for her. "The great temple at Ephaistos is one of your strongholds Goddess. How could they manage such a thing?" Baj asked with only the slightest hint of sarcasm, which, of course the Goddess either did not, or pretended not, to notice. The so called "great" temple at Ephaistos, was, like many of the Goddesses temples only great if you considered a run down rock strewn former castle guesthouse, overrun by weeds and dikon lizards great. On a good day it boasted a contingent of no more than 20 of Elyria's servants and supplicants. Those few that did "live" at the "great" temple were typically of less than sound mind and body and many stayed only because they were given three meals a day and a stack of hay upon which to sleep whenever they did. The fact that they were also forced to spend up to 8 hours a day attending courses and listening to lectures describing in excrutiating detail the philosophy of hope and love espoused by the Goddess caused most of the homeless to quickly decide a life on the streets was preferable. "According to reports they disguised themselves as supplicants desiring to learn of my philosophy of hope and love. They said they had heard of my many wise teachings and great beauty and were so enthralled they immediately began a pilgrimage to the nearest temple dedicated to me so they might pledge themselves as supplicants." "And your temple guards believed that obviously made up story?" Baj sneered, then immediately regreted his words when he saw the anger twinged with hurt on the Goddesses face. Then he felt the pain, the sting of the mental whip she stung him with. He dropped to a knee and gasped as he always did whenever she punished him in this way. The pain was significant and severe and in this particular case she had struck him hard, very hard. "Of course they believed it. Such a thing is a very common occurrence at my many temples human. Now get up and shut up. It is time for us to leave." the Goddess spat angrily "To where do we head Goddess?" Baj asked timidly, still regaining his senses and a bit off balance from the whipping he had just recieved. "To the great temple at Ephaistos of course. Where else?" As they set off to gather their belongings for the long trip west to Ephaistos Baj fumed in anger at the Goddess for the punishment. It was not deserved and unjust, arbitrary and capricious and he hated the Goddess for it each and every time she did it. And yet, it was not the anger in her eyes that he remembered when he replayed in his mind what had just transpired, but rather the hurt. Surprisingly he found himself regretting what he had said because of the pain he had caused. He was sorry for the small seed of self doubt he had sown in her mind with his comment. Quickly he reprimanded himself. She is an evil creature Baj, not to be trusted, only to be used as I need her, nothing more he thought, and he almost believed it too.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Fiction
A Career Writing Objective Exceeded Times Two
Many of my reader(s) know that in my long career in various research microbiology roles there had been one career goal I had consistently failed to achieve. Since my earliest days of graduate school I had longed to contribute an original joke to the pantheon of classics that make up the niche oeuvre comprised of jokes about microbiology. In October of 2019 I finally stumbled upon one, and it was a beauty. Simple, elegant, funny, but only to a select group of fellow nerds, and best of all I could not find, nor have I yet, found a record of it having been thought of (or at least written down) previously. That joke has rapidly ascended to become an all time classic and is below.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Humor
The Three Laws of Food Pathogen Diagnostics
The 1st law There is always a tradeoff between speed and sensitivity. The probability of false negatives from any given rapid method increases proportionally with overall assay speed (i.e. reductions in assay enrichments, sample prep, and/or detection times).
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Poets
Test to Use
"I'm gonna need to see your drug qualification card if you are gonna buy those kid." said the heavyset, very tired looking clerk behind the counter as Sam approached the checkout. "Of course my man." Sam replied, grinning ear to ear, as he quickly reached into his back pocket and pulled out his overstuffed brown wallet. He slid the card out from its slot in the wallet and handed it over proudly to the clerk. "A1 rating brother. They don't get any higher than that." The clerk looked at the card skeptically, then raised both eyebrows and whistled out loud as he said, "Damn kid. You aren't lying. What'd you do, cheat or something? Highest score I ever saw in here was a B0 and I only saw that one time. Most people comin in here are lucky to see a C2 max or have flat out failed. I'd say at least half have failed three times and are now banned for life from ever using drugs again. Well, the good kind of drugs anyways." Sam wasn't surprised. The store wasn't in the greatest neighborhood and the clientele were not exactly the most mentally stable around. He was however more than a little offended at the accusation of cheating and looked at the clerk incredulously as he answered. "Hell no, I didn't cheat. You know as well as anyone the modern computers running the testing program can't be fooled. At least no one yet has figured out how to, so they say. And the accuracy of their psychological classifications has been proven in experiment after experiment. If they say I am an A1, then I am an A1. No doubt at all about that." The clerk was a bit confused "Modern computers? You mean them AI?" "Yeah, man. Most people call 'em AI but I never will. Not until one of them proves to me personally that it is actually intelligent. And so far, none I have challenged have been able to beat my test and prove they are to my satisfaction. So I call 'em modern computers."
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Fiction
I May Have Invented a New Art Form
You, the reader needs to know first that I am writing this against my better judgement. That half of my brain is screaming at me that this is a really stupid idea. Mostly, it is because the general arc of it, the kernel of the idea if you will, has already been done a million times over. And when I say it has been done a million times over I am not exaggerating. It goes back in time almost as far as storytelling itself, certainly at least as far as storytelling in the form of writing goes. The basic idea is that a thing (be it alien or spirit or terrestrial microorganism) somehow makes its way into a human host and changes it in some way, makes it do something or things it would not normally do. Often times the unfortunate human is turned into a zombie like being in the process. Slowly, or quickly, depending on the particulars of the story being told, that human changes. First it becomes a slave, then it loses its humanity, and then it becomes whatever that thing is that comes after humanity is lost. Basically just a body, a body still capable of doing all the terrible things a human can do, but bereft of any of the controls that normally prevent it from doing them. It is a terrifying idea to be sure, and thus the reason it has been fodder for so many horrifying tales over the millennia. In modern times the enslaving force has often been described as a fungus, typically a mold. Which brings me to the other major reason I hesitate to tell this story. I am a microbiologist in my non-writing "real" life. I have a bachelor's degree in microbiology and a PhD in microbiology and molecular biology. Currently there is nothing more played out then the zombie virus/mold story as told by a microbiologist. For whatever reason these days among the Creepypastas of the world it's a heavily overused story trope.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Horror
Management by Fear is Not a Successful Strategy in Business
Business managers and other leaders of people hold great power over many individuals and some are in a positions where they have near absolute authority. Some of these people, way too many, believe fear is a useful tool when it comes to business management, and some even believe fear is a necessary component of business success. The temptation to use fear as a motivator is high. First, it is relatively easy. When you have power over other people, especially when that power directly impacts their ability to provide food for their families, pay their bills, etc., the easiest thing you can do is scare them. Simply imply their jobs are on the line either implicitly or explicitly and watch profits soar as formerly slacker employees suddenly become energized go getters putting in 12h days and crushing all their performance objectives. Or, so the thinking goes among the fear management true believers. This thinking is wildly incorrect, and management by fear never leads to successful outcomes in the long term. It is guaranteed to fail, and to fail every single time. It may appear effective in the short or even medium term, but the appearance of effectiveness is not the same thing as effectiveness. Unfortunately, despite endless lip service to the virtues of long term business strategy the vast majority of senior business leadership are short to medium term thinkers, thus they are easily tempted by fear.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Journal
Bacterial Bias
Many microbiologists suffer from a bit of a bacterial bias. It is not by choice that bacteria have become the dominant microorganism studied in our field, but rather because of an ancient ritual all young microbiologists must endure prior to joining the graduate school house where they will learn our ancient craft. The ritual is known as the sorting and only the most talented and dedicated among the many graduates of four year microbiology degree programs, and biology majors who did not have a high enough GPA to get into medical school, and assorted philosophy and other social science majors who realized there is no money to be made in their chosen field so took a few science classes their junior and senior year and really liked them, that are invited to sit and be chosen.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Earth
