Boy Scientist’s Dud Logic Bomb

             Boy Scientist’s Dud Logic Bomb

 

         A long time ago, when I was a young lad, I had a strange encounter with logic. I got a Fisher-Price Science kit for my tenth birthday; it had batteries and wires and lights and toggles and keys and magnetic relays. The instructions showed how to make AND gates, and OR gates, and NOT gates; I made them all. With the AND gate the light went on only if both keys were pressed; with the OR gate the light went on when either key was pressed; and if you wire the magnetic relay in reverse, the light goes on only if you don’t press the key.

          Seventeen days before my tenth birthday, I had seen a Star Trek show. In it, Captain Kirk defeated an evil robot by feeding it a logic paradox. Kirk called Harvey Mudd a liar, and Harvey Mudd agreed. Harvey Mudd told the robot, “I am lying”. The robot fell into a yes-but-no wobble, then shorted out in a cloud of smoke.

I remembered that show and thought, “Cool! Can I do the same thing?” It seemed easy enough; wire a magnetic relay to turn on when it’s off, and off when it’s on. A loop of wire, with a twist; what could be easier? I wired in a battery, and a light, and – just to be safe – a key, so the whole circuit was activated only when the key’s pressed down.

          For that burnt-out robot worried me. How would the relay react to being forced to be in two places at once? Would it break? Would it short out in a cloud of smoke? Would it explode?

          I vowed to leap away if something went wrong; but there were worse possibilities. Maybe the confused relay would tear a hole in the space-time continuum, one that monsters could get through. Maybe a single paradox would destroy the Universe… for I had read those science-fiction stories, too!

I hesitated over my doomsday device… then I figured that other kids must have tried the same experiment before; so it must be safe.

I pressed the key… and the relay buzzed!

I let go of the key; the buzzing stopped. I leaned in close and pressed the key. The relay buzzed; the armature was a blur; a blue-white spark strobed at the contact; the light was half-lit.

Ah, Science! All these effects were new to me, unexpected, yet obvious in retrospect. I have based much of my paradox-logic research upon this experimental observation. The buzz, the blur, the strobing, the half-lighting… and above all the fact that it didn’t explode.

For as you can see, I took a big risk for Science! And I did so without consulting anyone! I didn’t know that a paradox-circuit wouldn’t destroy the Universe; I just figured that it probably wouldn’t. So I went ahead anyhow; but it all turned out OK, because here we are.

          How reckless of me! In my defense I plead the folly of youth. So there you have it: as a boy I thought I invented a Doomsday Device, but instead it was just a Buzzer!

Plucking the Pigeon

            Plucking the Pigeon

 

            Once upon a time Working Joe was outdoors, hammering nails, though the air was freezing cold. Big Boss was driving by in his stretch limo just then; he ordered the driver to stop, and rolled down a window.

            Big Boss said, “Isn’t seven more than five?”

            Working Joe said, “Isn’t thirty-two more than twelve?”

            Big Boss said, “Have you ever had a fire in your house?”

            Working Joe said, “Not yet, but she’ll set one in five years and he’ll set one in ten.”

            Big Boss said, “Can you pluck a pigeon?”

            Working Joe said, “Send me one and you’ll see.”

            Big Boss rolled up his window and ordered the driver to go. He then turned to Suxel, who was sitting next to him, and he said, “Did you understand any of that?”

            Suxel said, “How could I? You spoke in riddles.”

            Big Boss said, “And you call yourself a super-lawyer! You, supposedly the cleverest man in town, but this working man understood me and you didn’t! I give you three days to figure out what we said. If you don’t, then you’re fired!”

            Suxel was stunned. He hurried to his office, and called an emergency meeting of all his subordinates, but none could figure out the riddles. Suxel then summoned Working Joe, and he asked Working Joe what that conversation meant.

            Working Joe said, “I’ll tell you if you pay me five hundred thousand dollars.”

            Suxel said, “How dare you! Five hundred thousand dollars for some wretched riddles?”

            Working Joe retorted, “If it’s not worth the money then don’t pay,” and he left.

            On the third day Suxel knocked on Working Joe’s door. He said, “All right, I’ll pay!”

            Working Joe said, “The price has gone up to a million.”

            Suxel said, “All right, all right! Here’s a check!”

            Working Joe said, “Thank you. I’ll be back shortly.” He walked outside, and with one mighty leap jumped straight to the Bank. He walked in, deposited the check, walked out, and with another mighty leap jumped back to Suxel, who had been standing there, sweating.

            Suxel said, “Now tell me, quickly!”

            Working Joe said, “When Big Boss saw me working in the cold he asked if seven isn’t more than five. He meant to ask whether I did not earn enough in the seven warm months to make unnecessary my work in the five cold months. I answered that thirty-two is more than twelve. I meant that with my thirty-two teeth I could eat up more than I could earn in all twelve months.

            “Big Boss then asked if I have had a fire in the house. By this he meant to ask if I have sent any children off to college, for that costs as much as a fire in the house. I replied that my daughter will go in five years and my son in ten.

            “Big Boss then asked me if I could pluck a pigeon. I replied, send me one and you’ll see. As you can see, he sent me you. So now go back to Big Boss and tell him if I have done so or not.”

 

            Moral: If you can’t tell who’s the pigeon, then you’re it.

 

Super-Democracy

Super-Democracy

 

Once upon a time, Working Joe conspired with Dr. Diablo to overthrow the reign of the superheroes. They worked together for different reasons; Dr. Diablo because he was a supervillain, Working Joe because he was neither hero nor villain, just super.

          Working Joe gave Dr. Diablo cheek swabs, blood samples and stool samples, and was scanned by ultrasound, X-rays, neutrinos and eloptic radiation. Between Dr. Diablo’s theorizing and Working Joe’s experience, they figured out the nature of superpower. It turned out to be a simple matter of electron psychology, replicable by adeledicnandar technology. With a morphogenetic transmogrifier, anybody could achieve, or even surpass, the powers of the superheroes.

          Dr. Diablo and Working Joe met with Big Boss to ask for a loan, to develop, test, and mass-produce cheap consumer transmogrifier. Big Boss seized upon this opportunity for super-profit.

          The superheroes and the other supervillains got wind of this, and interrupted their endless destructive fighting, to oppose such crass commercialism. Only they, the genetic elite, should wield superpowers, not the common folk.

They joined forces to destroy the Transmogrifier Corporation; but in the end they were defeated by Big Boss’s super-money, Working Joe’s super-productivity, and Dr. Diablo’s super-cunning.

          Nowadays everybody in Metroville is super, so nobody is.

 

Moral: Power to the People!

 

Wonderful

          Wonderful

 

          Once upon a time, Working Joe was walking down the street, minding his own business, when suddenly –

          ZOT!

– there was a bolt from the blue, and Working Joe was face-to-face with a Superhero.

The Superhero said, “Hi there! I’m Captain Wonderful!”

Working Joe said, “How are you, Captain?”

“Wonderful!” said the Superhero. He flexed his biceps. “I love my job, my life and myself!”

Working Joe asked Captain Wonderful, “What is your job?”

Captain Wonderful said, “I go around the world, giving people a diabolically subtle test to determine which ones are good, and which ones are ee-vil!”

“And when people are good?”

“I say they pass!”

“And when people are evil?”

“I pummel them with my fists!”

“Why, that’s terrible!”

“You pass!”

ZOT!

And Captain Wonderful was gone.

 

 

Moral: This moral is false.

 

The Price

            The Price

 

            Once upon a time, Big Boss frowned. Hands on hips, he glared upwards at the inert bulk of Turboencabulator #7. He sucked on his stogie. He blew out a cloud of smoke. He grumbled, “I’ve got no choice. Call Working Joe!”

            Big Boss’s minion Lackey texted Working Joe, and Working Joe flew right over. When he landed, Big Boss said, “Turboencabulator #7 broke in the super-fight last Tuesday. Can you fix it?”

            Working Joe inspected Turboencabulator #7. He used his vision, his X-ray vision, and his sonar. He scratched his head. Then he opened a flap on his utility belt and took out a hammer no bigger than his thumb. He got onto his knees, he crawled to the lower left rear corner of the huge machine, and he tapped it once with the tiny hammer.

            Instantly Turboencabulator #7 roared back into full operation. Working Joe crawled out, stood up, put away the hammer and said, “It’ll work fine now.”

            “Thank you, Working Joe. How can I ever repay you?”

            Working Joe said, “Easily,” and he handed over a bill.

            Big Boss read the bill and his face turned red. “A hundred thousand and one dollars?” he bellowed. “But you just tapped it once with a tiny hammer! A hundred thousand dollars for that?!”

            Working Joe said, “No. Only one dollar for tapping it with a tiny hammer. A hundred thousand dollars for knowing where to tap it.”

            Moral: Knowledge is the best merchandise.

Supply and Demand

             Supply and Demand

 

Big Boss and Working Joe were touring a car factory, to inspect a new line of welding robots. 

Big Boss joked, “You wondering how you’re going to get them to join the union?” 

Working Joe replied, “No, I’m wondering how you’re going to get them to buy cars.” 
 

          Moral: Give to get.

 

 

 

Super-Retort

             Super-Retort

 

            Once upon a time, Captain Blue was flying towards Big Boss’s mansion, to attend a big dinner-party. He looked down and he saw Working Joe, standing in a muddy ditch, using his heat-vision to weld a sewer line; for Working Joe needed the money.

             Captain Blue called down from the sky, “Poor Working Joe! If only he knew how to flatter Big Boss, then he wouldn’t have to weld sewer lines!”

             Working Joe replied to the sky, “Poor Captain Blue! If only he knew how to weld sewer lines, then he wouldn’t have to flatter Big Boss!”

 

          Moral:  Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you.