Posts filed under ‘Walt Trizna’

RETURN OF THE BLOB (BLOBS)

            RETURN OF THE BLOB (BLOBS)

In my post on January 12, I discussed shapes of aliens and how, in three movies, the usual mold was broken and said the answer to who the aliens were would be given to you on January 18. That revelation is moving to January 24. Gives you more time to see the movies.

This post is for anyone who has an imagination and would like to try their hand at writing a story.

Not long ago I mentioned that I watched the movie, The Blob, staring Steve McQueen on YouTube. My imagination went into high gear when I coupled the end of the movie with the current condition of our planet. The Blob can be immobilized by freezing. So, the end of the movie has the Blob being transported by plane to the arctic and parachuted on a pallet. I imagined, upon hitting the ground, that it fractures into hundreds, perhaps thousands of pieces. I feel there is definitely the possibility of a sequel. However, I am too busy to write one, therefore, what follows are a series of ideas for anyone who wants to write the story and has my full permission to write the sequel.

Here are my ideas for a future story for the Blob.

The Blob lands in the arctic and has broken into pieces, and due to climate change, the area where it landed in the arctic begins to warm and all those pieces of the Blog come back to life. Now you have hundreds of Blobettes (my term) looking for someplace to go. The obvious place they would return to, I picture, is where they landed on Earth, Phoenixville, Pennsylvania.

What happens along the way to their considered home is where your imagination takes over along when what happens when they get to Phoenixville.

I might mention that I wrote a novella, Elmo’s Sojourn, which contains a hint of what could be involved in the ending of your story.

Elmo is a retired Los Alamos scientist and tinkers in the lab he has in his cellar. He thinks it is possible to travel to distant planets through wormholes. He builds a device and tries it out which results in a creature appearing which is obviously from a distant planet. It has the shape of a fire hydrant and has a singular eye which travels around the top of the creature’s body. Elmo decides to return with it to its home planet and discovers it is not a creature of vast intelligence but is someone’s pet.

If someone does venture to write a story let me know. Now, back to work 

January 18, 2026 at 5:05 pm Leave a comment

                       IDS AND ICE AGENTS

                                          IDS AND ICE AGENTS

I’m going to postpone my planned post for something I just saw on the news which upset me, and if you saw it, I hope upsets you too.

And ICE AGENT was shown repeatedly asking a woman to show him her ID. I find this unusual in this country. This reminds me of scenes in movies in communist or fascist countries where people are constantly required to show their papers. But considering the current state of things, the comparison is frightening.

I’ve got a question, Shouldn’t ICE Agents, usually masked, be required to show their IDs when confronting a person. Our president recently posted that that area is full of dangerous criminals, rapists, escapees from insane asylums and worse. When someone confronts you wearing a mask, and with all these extremely dangerous people walking around, shouldn’t they be required to identify themselves?

What do you think?

January 15, 2026 at 2:42 pm Leave a comment

THE SHAPE OF ALIENS

THE SHAPE OF ALIENS

Some time ago I heard of a complaint about the shape of aliens in movies. Being a science fiction writer, this caught my attention.

The complaint was that the shape of aliens in movies usually resemble us or look vaguely like us. They will have a torso and a head or something that resembles a head and some sort of sensory organs. Along with appendages be they arms legs or tentacles.

The reason for this post is to present three movies which break this mole.

The first movie is the old classic The Blob which I discussed in a recent previous post. Many know what the Blob looks like. However, younger science fiction enthusiasts may not. You can view The Blob on YouTube to see what the alien does looks like.

The next movie is Solaris. A Russian version of the movie is also available on You Tube. There was also an American version starring George Clooney. In this movie you may not realize who the alien is until the end of the movie. You might even have to read about it on Google to confirm your suspicions.

The final movie is Nope, one of the best science fiction movies I have seen in quite a while. You will have to search for this one. I saw this movie once along with someone having their second viewing. They had to explain a few points in the movie I did not catch. But they still missed who the alien was. If you can’t identify the alien, or make sure you are correct, you again can Google for an explanation identifying the alien and explaining the fine points of the movie.

I will wait until January 18 to post an explanation of the identity of the alien in each movie. This should give you plenty of time to, if you are interested, view all or some of these movies. Whether or not if you watch them you can visit my blog on January 18 for an explanation of the alien’s identity.

January 12, 2026 at 1:20 pm Leave a comment

             THE BLOB: A CLASSIC WITH FLAWS

                                  THE BLOB: A CLASSIC WITH FLAWS

 I just finished watching, perhaps, the worst science fiction/horror movie I ever saw. And I have seen quite a few science fiction movies because they are my favorite genres. Yet this movie is one of the most famous movies of this type made during the 1950’s.

The movie was The Blob made in 1958. I must have seen it as a kid. Now I wanted to see the movie again because I live in the middle of Blob country., West Chester, PA. Mentioned in the movie is the town of Downingtown, which is just down the road. But the hub of Blob country is the nearby town of Phoenixville home of the Colonial Theater. The town holds a Blob fest every summer. And if you want to be part of the main event during the fest and redo the most famous scene from the movie you can be part of the crowd running out of the Colonial Theater.

The inspiration for this post was the ending seem in many monster movies of this era, The End ?.

In the movie Steve McQueen is the only name which survived the test of time. I can’t really say he acted in the movie; no one really acted in the movie, they just talked. And I would say the plot was weak at best. The blob comes down as a meteor and forms a crater. In the crater is a small sphere which opens when an old man discovers the crater and when the sphere opens, there is the blob which attaches to the man and the ‘action’ begins. Later in the movie Steve McQueen’s character, along with some of his friends, discovers the crater and a hot rock which they theorize as the origin of the blob. This is never corrected so the origin of the blob goes from being a sphere to a rock.

McQueen’s character and his friends spend the majority of their time trying to convince the town sheriff that there is a monster rolling around town eating people. Soon the sheriff goes from disbelief to accepting the fact that people are being eaten and puts the number at 50 for no apparent reason while trying to disperse the growing crowd. Little to nothing is explained in the movie as to the origin of the Blob. Things just happen. What inspired this piece is how the Blob is defeated.

It turns out that the Blob cannot stand cold. After cooling it down using fire extinguishers they somehow load it onto a transport, I assume the plane is refrigerated, there is a lot that needs to be assumed in this movie. The blob is transported on a pallet which is attached to a parachute and dropped into the arctic.

The end of this movie should, especially if you are a science fiction writer, start your mind churning. Visit my blog on January 21 and your imagination will receive some direction.

January 9, 2026 at 3:29 pm Leave a comment

        VENEZUELA VS THE AFFORDABLE CARE ACT

        VENEZUELA VS THE AFFORDABLE CARE ACT

Could someone explain to me why there is not enough money to help millions of Americans to keep their medical benefits through The Affordable Care Act yet there is enough money to send 105 aircraft, carrying highly sophisticated weapons, to attack Venezuela and at the same time maintain a massive naval force off the country’s coast?

And now there is another list of countries who may deserve America’s attention.

I don’t understand anything anymore.

Where are the Adults?

January 6, 2026 at 12:28 pm Leave a comment

NEWARK MEMORY: LIFE ON A SHOESTRING

We have just finished the annual ‘season of shopping’. What follows are some shopping memories, a time when you only bought what you could afford.

                                      LIFE ON A SHOESTRING

Some time ago I heard a report which stated that the average person carries about eight thousand dollars in debt. I am sure that that amount has increased since then.  I have only a couple credit cards and try to keep my debt under control. I also use my credit cards as seldom as possible for they can be easily compromised.  But on hearing this broadcast, my mind wandered back to my youth, a time when people not so much lived without but lived with what they could afford.

For most of my youth credit cards did not even exist.  They started flourishing in the 60’s so, when I was young, they were not even an option.  My parents didn’t even have a checking account.  When there was a bill that needed to be paid we went to the drugstore and got a money order.  Money orders were the only way we sent money through the mail.

In my neighborhood, credit was not as much a way of life as it is today.  People lived on what they could afford.  With the exception of houses and cars, you bought what you could pay for then and there.  I must admit just writing about life without credit seems so foreign and unreal.  Buying just what you can afford seems like such an odd concept, yet that is the way it once was.

The way a person received their pay was also different in my youth.   Friday afternoons, my dad was home from working at the tannery for hours, but he had to return Friday afternoons to get his pay.  I would sometimes take a ride with him; you could smell his place of employment long before you could see it – Ocean Leather – gaining this name because it was the only tannery at that time that could tan shark skins.  We would drive around to the loading dock where drums of chemicals stood, the soil, stained shades of purple and green was soil to be an OSHA nightmare.  So, into the building we would go, past large rooms where various stages of tanning was taking place, and into the office.  Here my dad was handed a brown envelope with bills and change and that was his pay.  That’s the way people were paid back then; you actually held your pay in your hand.  It was not electronically sent to your bank from which you electronically paid your bills.  You were able to hold what you earned, actually see it.

Friday was also allowance day for me, as it is now for my children.   For completing my choirs, I received fifty cents a week, and when I could really control my spending – not wanting another model or book – I turned those quarters into a dollar bill, real folding money, which I would immediately take to the cellar and hide.  In some respects, I never did get over the hiding fetish.  I still have hordes of Kennedy quarters and half dollars along with a plastic bag stashed away for the new state quarters being minted. To this day a quarter to me is still real money.  Although my kids make fun of my concept of value, with a quarter in my pocket I’m okay.  How things have changed, and how I remain the same.

January 3, 2026 at 2:55 pm Leave a comment

BOWL GAMES: GREED DILUTES SIGNIFICANE

                  BOWL GAMES: GREED DILUTES SIGNIFICANE

I first noticed a trend in Bowl Games beginning a few years ago. The number of Bowl Games had increasedcontinues to do so.

I can remember, and I’m talking about maybe 60 years ago, the number of college Bowl Games were few and for a school making it to a Bowl Game was quite an honor. The Bowl Games in existence back then, were to the best of my memory, the Rose Bowl, Orange Bowl, Cotton Bowl and Sugar Bowl and along with three or other Bowl Games, most of which were planned on or near New Year’s Day.

How things have changed.

Here are the Bowl Games listed recently in my local newspaper.

Reported on 12/27/2025

Go Bowling Military Bowl

Bad Boy Mower’s Pinstripe Bowl

Wasabi Fenway Bowl

Pop-Tarts Bowl

Snoop Dog Arizona Bowl

Isleta New Mexico Bowl

TaxSlayer Gator Bowl

Kinder’s Texas Bowl

Reported on 12/29/2025

Radiance Technologies Independence Bowl

Liberty Mutual Music City Bowl

Valero Alamo Bowl

I’m sure there are more to come because the ones mentioned don’t include the ones I remember.

Do you see the existence of the trend I mentioned. To me having made it into a Bowl Game has much less significance these days. I could be wrong but the increase in the number of Bowl Games has more to do with profit and recognition of the sponsor then the significance of the game and the honor of playing.

What do you think?                  

December 31, 2025 at 4:00 pm Leave a comment

IN THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

 I post this piece on or around Christmas each year to relive Christmas spirit which in the holiday rush, is sometimes lost.

                                        A CHIRISTMAS TREE STORY

For many years my family practiced a Christmas tradition involved in obtaining a Christmas tree. This experience holds a special place in our hearts. Those of you buying a live tree this Christmas season, a tree with an enormous price, may shed a tear after reading this story.

Many years ago, a friend at work told me about a unique tree farm where trees cost seven dollars. I can assure you that the prices of trees on Christmas tree lots, at that time, were much more. I obtained directions to the farm, and one Sunday afternoon, piled the family into our car and off we went. After a few wrong turns I found the farm. And for years we went there for our Christmas tree and experienced the true meaning of Christmas.

The tree farm was south of Phenixville Pennsylvania. I learned from the owner that the property was once the site of a small airport having a hanger in which he could store his powder blue tail-dragger single engine high wing plane. After many years the hanger was falling apart, and much to his amazement, he was able to fire up the engine and taxi the plane out. But I doubt that the plane will ever fly again.

Now back to the trees.

The tree farm was made up of groves of jack-pine trees, and he spent the off season trimming the trees for sale for Christmas. He was in his late seventies or early eighties, and you could tell, for now, it was his life’s work.

Now a jack-pine is an evergreen with branches, far apart, along its trunk. They were scraggly looking trees, but you could load ornaments along the full length of the branches. As opposed to the usual ‘full’ Christmas trees where only the tips of the branches could be decorated. Once decorated, these jack-pine trees were beautiful.

For tree selection my two daughters brought along multiple scarves to drape on trees which showed promise. Once the ‘perfect tree’ was chosen I cut it down and carried it to the small trailer he kept on the property. He wrapped the tree with twine then went inside with my wife and daughters to sip hot chocolate. While I was left to tie the tree to the car roof coming close to suffering frostbite.

On the wall of the trailer were mounted news articles. Clippings about the farm and his generosity. He donated trees to churches and organizations. I’m he would give trees to those suffering hardship.

Once home, we decorated our scrawny ‘Charlie Brown tree’ and turned it into a thing of beauty.

After a few years of getting our trees at the farm the owner told me he thought he was charging too much so he lowered the price to five dollars. I began bringing him a loaf of homemade cinnamon raisin bread and he told me I could have a tree for free. I assured him that five dollars was what I would pay.

The man through all the years had a collie running free on the property. But the dog wandered somewhere causing someone to complain. A township official arrived and warned the man about his dog. The next time we went to buy a tree he told me that that’s it and he was selling the property. I hope he got a good price and I’m sure some developer filled the land with McMansions sitting cheek to jowl. Houses with no character, only volume.

I will never return to that property because it would spoil my memories of a wonderful Christmas tradition. That fellow was the epitome of the Christmas spirit with the kindness and generosity of the holiday season.    

                                        MERRY CHRISTMAS 

December 25, 2025 at 5:20 am Leave a comment

A TWO-YEAR-OLD DIED TODAY

                                A TWO-YEAR-OLD DIED

                                             12/22/2025

I heard on the news this morning that a two-year-old just died. To make the news the circumstances must be suspect. This news grabbed me and would not let go. I suspect the reason is the season and I associate children with happiness, especially now.

What follows are thoughts trying to be a poem.

A TWO-YEAR-OLD DIED

A two-year-old died today,

Does anyone ask, “Why”?

Or break down and cry.

A two-year-old died today,

Will it happen again?

Just a matter of when.

December 23, 2025 at 3:49 am 2 comments

THE ULTIMATE EXPERIMENT: WHERE SCIENCE MEETS RELIGION

                            An unpublished story

                  THE ULTIMATE EXPERIMENT

George Stewart, age 94, with his mane of white hair and flowing beard, looked the part he had chosen in life, that of a distinguished scientist.  His mind wandered as he waited in his study for Virginia to arrive. He always anticipated her visits.  Twice a week she came.  Finally, the door to his study opened and she entered.

“Virginia, how are you doing?” he said.

Virginia was thirty-five of medium build and quite attractive.  But it was the nurturing she gave her patients that revealed her inner beauty.  She put down her nursing bag and replied, “How are you doing, Dr. Stewart?” although she knew the answer.

Virginia had been an oncology and hospice nurse for four years.  The work was demanding and emotionally draining, but she derived comfort in knowing she helped the people she cared for to make their last days as comfortable as possible.

“I’m maintaining Virginia.  I’m so very glad to see you my dear.”

Virginia smiled as Stewart adjusted his body in his hospital bed.  She enjoyed spending time with Stewart, easily the most famous patient she had ever had.  In 1975, he won the Nobel Prize for Physics.  His breakthrough theories and research led to the proposal of string theory.  At his advanced age, his brain was still nimble.  But his body was riddled with colon cancer and the malignant fingers of death had spread to other organs.

Stewart lived alone in a grand old house.  His wife died some years ago and he still deeply mourned her.  His only child, a son near 70, lived nearby and would visit when he could.  Stewart would have liked to see his two grandchildren more, but they had their own lives and families.  He cherished the rare visits they managed.  A nurse’s aide kept watch over him and tended to his daily needs.

When Virginia began managing Stewart’s care one month ago, he was given three months to live.  “I’ll spend my final days at home,” he told his doctor.

Virginia was assigned Stewart’s case and, during her first visit, she told him, “I’m having a hospital bed delivered today to make you more comfortable.  What bedroom do you want it set up in?”

“Oh my dear,” he answered, “I want to spend my last days with my very close friends.  Set it up in my study.”

He could tell she did not understand his request.  “Wheel me into my study and you shall meet them.” 

She wheeled him up to the sliding double doors of darkly stained wood.  When she opened them her eyes were greeted by floor to ceiling shelves overflowing with books.

“These are my very close friends.  I have spent my life with their thoughts, their ideas, and their dreams.  On these shelves are the works of scientists, philosophers and poets.  I can gaze at their spines and recall the cherished words they hold.  This is where I choose to spend my last days.”  Over the days she cared for him she grew to understand how much these friends meant to him.

Now she saw Stewart as her patient and friend.  As she tended to him, Virginia asked, “Have you received communion yet today?”  She knew that Stewart was a devout Catholic and received the sacrament every morning from a visiting priest or lay member of the church.

“Yes, my dear.  Monsignor visited me early this morning.  I do so love visiting with that man.  We prayed together and talked about my journey into the next life.  I’ve worked hard in this life.  I am satisfied with what I have accomplished.  But I am so very tired.  I look forward to the next life and being united with my dear wife.”

Virginia finished with her patient and left instructions with the nurse’s aide as to what needed to be done until her next visit.  With her work done, Virginia packed her bag and prepared for her next visit.  They said their good-byes, and then Stewart mentioned, “I’m expecting a visitor this afternoon, a former student of mine.  His name is Donald Ball, and he has made quite a name for himself in the field of quantum mechanics and string theory.  I have not seen him for thirty years or more.  I can’t imagine what the purpose of his visit might be.”

“Just don’t overdo it Dr. Stewart.  I’ll see you in two days.”

Whenever Virginia left Stewart, she never knew whether she would see him again.  She knew the end was very close.

                                                 * * *

Donald Ball drove his rental car along the back roads of southeastern Pennsylvania.  He chose this circuitous route to give him time to think, although his mind had been occupied with one subject for some time now.  He wanted to talk about an extremely sensitive and private matter: his old teacher’s imminent death. 

Ball had a collaboration to discuss with his mentor.  That is why he traveled from California to Pennsylvania.  He had in mind the ultimate physics experiment and needed Stewart’s help to prove a theory that, until now, he had not dared share with anyone.

                                                 * * *

Ball arrived at Stewart’s residence and parked on the circular drive.  The nurse’s aide answered the door and led him to the study.  The sliding doors were open.  As he entered, he was immediately astounded at the number of books crammed into the room.  However, he was more astounded and saddened to see the shell of a man that was once George Stewart. 

Stewart smiled as his former student approached the bed.

Ball extended his hand.  “It is a pleasure to see you again Professor.  How are you?”  He immediately gave himself a mental slap for asking a man who was dying how he was doing.

“I meant to say….”

Stewart waved a dismissive hand.  “I understand Donald.  When one is as close to death as I, life’s daily greetings can seem out of place.  I’m glad to see you but I must admit I am puzzled by this visit.  I cannot fathom why you would drop your important work at U C Irvine to come visit your old professor?”

Ball knew this conversation would be extremely difficult.  He had practiced what he would say since he first conceived the idea, when he first heard of Stewart’s condition. 

Motioning for Ball to take a seat, Stewart asked the nurse’s aide to bring some tea.

When they were alone, Ball began to explain his visit.  “Professor Stewart, I have always respected you as an outstanding scientist.  No, respect is the wrong word.  I have always been in awe of your intellect.  And I have always respected you as a man, a person of honesty and integrity.”

Stewart smiled, “I appreciate your comments, he said, “but I’m sure you didn’t travel three thousand miles just to compliment me on the life I have lived.”

Ball hesitated, and then said, “Um, professor, this may seem like an odd question, but are you still a religious man?”

This question took Stewart by surprise.  “Why yes, I am.  I must say I find this conversation most puzzling.”

“Professor, I am here because you have three qualities I am seeking in an individual, someone I need to help me prove a theory of mine.  It is a theory that goes beyond science to the essence our very existence.  You meet my criteria.  You are a highly intelligent physicist, you have led an honorable life and you are dying.”

Stewart said, “This conversation is becoming more and more bizarre.  I presume you can explain your comments.”

Ball nodded, “I will try my best Professor.  “As you know, I am working at the Super-Kamiokande detector used for detection of neutrinos.  I am also conducting a graduate-level course in string theory.  While teaching this course, I formed a theory on a subject that I never put much credence in: the existence of heaven.”

“Now I am truly lost,” replied Stewart.

“You see Professor, I have never been a religious man.  I was not raised in any faith.  But as a scientist, the more I think about life the more I find it difficult to picture our life force, that energy that each of us possesses, coming to a complete end with our death.”

“I can appreciate your observation on life.  But I cannot fathom the connection between string theory and heaven.”

Ball began to explain his theory.

“One of the estimations of string theory, as you well know, is the existence of not four but eleven dimensions.  Presumably, some of these dimensions are too miniscule to be observable.  I began thinking about the existence of alternate universes.  I thought of our own universe with its three physical dimensions and the fourth, time.  I envisioned two alternate universes, each with three dimensions.  I assumed time to be a constant for all three dimensions, ours and the two unknowns.”

Stewart interrupted.  “That theory,” he hesitated, “would explain the presence of ten dimensions.  You are left with one unexplained ….”  The startled expression on Stewart’s face told Ball that he now comprehended the connection between string theory and heaven.

“That is correct, Professor Stewart.  We are left with one dimension, one universe that is infinite, a universe of energy, and a universe where physical reality does not exist.  The one remaining universe is heaven.”

Both men fell silent.  Ball continued, “I have thought about the next aspect of my theory a great deal.  As I said, I am not a religious man.  But I appreciate the good and the evil in the world.  If the one remaining dimension is heaven, then what comprises hell?  Could it be a continuum of the heavenly dimension, or does it not exist?”

Ball paused for emphasis, and then continued, “I propose that hell does not exist.  The reward for an errant life is oblivion.  Your life force is dissipated for some other purpose and your consciousness; your existence is lost.”

Stewart looked at Ball and said, “I must admit your theory interests me.  I now see why you require a man who, some would say, led an honorable life and why you require the help of someone about to die.  But what is your need for a scientist?”

“History is overflowing,” Ball said, “with people who have vowed to communicate with the living after their death.  Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the author of the popular Sherlock Holmes stories, considered those works a minor representation of his entire output.  He was primarily concerned with the afterlife and communication from the beyond.  What happened after he passed?   Nothing.

“Harry Houdini spent a good part of his life trying to contact his departed mother, and in the process debunked quite a few mediums.  He vowed that he would communicate to his wife from the next world – nothing.

“But these people weren’t scientists.  Even if they had been, the level of technology did not exist to allow them to communicate from that singular dimension.  I’m asking you, Professor Stewart, after you pass, to send me a sign.  Something that we will now plan.  Something that will prove my theory.”

Stewart’s eyes twinkled as he said, “I think I know just the event.”

                                                 * * *

A few days after Donald Ball’s visit, Virginia noticed a steady decline in George Stewart’s condition.  Every time she saw him she thought it would be the last.  Each time she approached his bed, Stewart appeared as a corpse, his complexion gray.  Only the occasional rise and fall of his chest signaled that his body still harbored life.

“How are you today, Professor Stewart?” Virginia did not expect an answer but he opened his eyes.

“I don’t think I have long for this world, my dear,” he said with great effort.  “But I am at peace.  I have one request of you before you leave.”

Two hours later, while making another visit, Virginia was paged by the nurse’s aide caring for Stewart.

“The professor passed away.”

Virginia went to pronounce him dead.  She had lost a patient and a friend.  Then she fulfilled Stewart’s last request.

                                                 * * *

Donald Ball was at work when his phone rang.

“Hello, Dr. Ball?”

“Yes, this is Dr. Ball.”  He did not recognize the voice.

“This is Virginia Madison.  I’m a visiting nurse.  I have been taking care of George Stewart.”

Ball knew immediately the purpose of the call.

“George Stewart passed away today.  He told me it was very important that you know when he died.”

“Thank you for calling.  He was a good man and friend.  He will be missed.”

“He was a good man.  Good-bye.”

Donald Ball hung up the phone.  He sat alone in his office for a long time thinking of what might occur.  He felt a chill of anticipation.

                                                 * * *

Two days later John Coolidge, a graduate student working for Dr. Ball, sat at the computer console connected to the Super-Kamiokande detector.  He had seen what the computer images of past neutrino events looked like and detected a few events himself.  He was reading a physics textbook when the alarms began to sound.  As he looked at the monitor he said out loud, “Holy shit, I’m going to be famous.”

                                                 * * *

Ball looked up from his work as his normally reserved graduate student came running into his office.  This usually calm student was in an extreme state of agitation.

“Professor, you’ve got to come quick!  We’ve just recorded a unique event.  Nothing like this … you’ve got to come!”

“Calm down John.  Now tell me what has happened.”

“We’ve detected a new form of neutrino!  It is not any of the three known types – electron, muon or tau!”

Now Ball was getting excited.  “Tell me about its chirality – its orientation.”

“That’s the strangest part, Dr. Ball.  It has none.  It is not left-handed as all neutrinos are.  I’ve got to get back.  Are you coming?  There might be more events.”

“I’ll be right there, son.”

After the graduate student left Donald Ball sat for a moment alone.  He was simultaneously excited and numb.  He cried, and then he laughed.  He also felt calmness he had never experienced before.  He knew this was a unique event. Because it seemed inexplicable, the event would probably be deemed the result of faulty sensors.   But Ball knew better.  The new neutrino was the type of particle Stewart had agreed to generate from beyond the grave.

                                              THE END

December 22, 2025 at 8:15 am Leave a comment

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