Science that's more art than science! How today's tall tales are told with Rick and Morty! by C Lue t's fun to think Rick's interdimensional career kicked off about the same time as Reed Richards did as a fictional character in 1961. If Rick's 80 and 54 years have passed, then a breakthrough like the prototypical portal gun by the time he's 26 sounds credible. Super geniuses, particularly in more abstract mathematical fields, physics, etc, that is to say, IQ's over 180 that manifest in anything but the self-destruction of the person in question, tend to have their signature breakthroughs fairly early in life. Many of our most accomplished minds complete their most difficult concentration to a breakthrough of sorts before 35. For skills where supply overwhelms and washes away one's contribution until the right attachment arises, like writing, it's all bullshit, anyway; objectively speaking, critical reflections of your work are possible, an...

Remus Sharptooth attempts his escape in a Gnomlin-built craft---it lifts vertically for take-off, as the Defenders attempt to strike it from the air. The creature Anomaly watches from behind a smoking data base; standing at the precipice, Corpse Flower wonders if Sharptooth’s decision is influenced by the Viking Captain, Ray Awen, who still makes up his subconscious mind. Hulk’s skips, powered by his mighty legs, give him velocity to match the launching craft. The fleeing sorcerer-wolf turns to hurl bolts of blood-red lightning at the clutching emerald behemoth, whose bulk is nearly half that of the escape craft! As all the heroes pursue Remus Sharptooth, abruptly, they observe what he has forgotten about all crafts built by Gnomlins: in the end, they stop and they explode!!! Just before this explosion, the Wolf Oversoul appears to Remus Sharptooth. He promises the sorcerer another existence to come, an incarnation in the world of Semeicardia. Thus he achieves a strange peace as...

Break through: a moment in time must be seized. Holt gazes down upon the face of the warrior women who saved him---who he’s seen fighting for the world in shadows somewhere free of the fallen world. HOLT I guess I understand this as much as I ever will. BLANCLEY: You know...if everyone were ready to perceive one another’s inner lives... HOLT: Yep. That’s exactly why there’s privacy: ‘cause we ain’t there. But it’s true we are what we are. Maybe they’re meant to be cosmically aware, but they just don’t---or refuse to believe they can—they don’t do it on Earth. We just lose the ability to be face to face more each day. The rough going is the anger and anxiety mixed into the sharing...and people miserably just long to leave this planet. BLANCLEY: And if it weren’t for our imaginations--! We could never bear to be trapped in this life together, when our spirits say we should live free. HOLT: Because maybe love is all you need..but we’re stuck with so much more...that makes us so much...

MACHINE MAN: I think of what these explosions must sound like to regular guys like those soldiers I bumped into in the woods, before finding that weird hutch. I wonder what their world will be like, as the colossal disturbances of these superbeings fill the air with the promise of forces beyond their control? What clue will reflect this mission: the human adventurer Hellcat, and the cybernetic Machine Man, confronting the living conduit of enormous trigger energies: what this supercomputer identifies as Sharptooth, guarded by his partner the she wolf Corpse Flower, beside the extraordinary devices used to focus the M’Krann energies. Extraordinary: the after effects of an event beyond even my ability to see, to the Milky Way’s edge! And what of the origin of this source, tapped by Sharptooth; these machines, I’d estimate, reflect the engineering genius at least 5,000 very optimistic years of human existence. Is that where Sharptooth and company came from? Somehow, it seems the sour...

The Script, first half of the scene: Day 4: Hellcat :. Part of the 12 Days of Defenders As we sneak into the mountain together, I’m suddenly feeling very lucky. Imagine, we follow some kind of gnomlin creature through the woods* (See “Calinferno”) and meet the ultimate computer whiz who’s made of machine head to toe. Steel skinned brother gives me the thumbs up, and just cuts gravity to float into the device somewhere three or more stories off the ground, built right here in the cave floor! While the Living Robot gets digital with Super Computer from the Future, you have your work cut out for you, Patsy Walker! Disturbances in the passages of the timeline prevent Doctor Strange and Clea from returning to the present, yet through the Crystal of Agamotto they aid and observe Valkyrie and her ghostly partners. For now, I’ve got to let all this slip my mind. If this sorcerer reads minds, why open the whole playbook? One thing is no secret, though: I’m headed straight to the corporeal ...

Day 3 of 12: Prince Namor, the Submariner A whale watching boat full of passengers passes a submarine, surprisingly close to the surface in San Diego Bay. We over hear them randomly: The news feed just mentioned a wilderness fire, but it’s somewhere north of here. The whole loo shook, pitched right off the bowl! Expected as much: I come on deck, the weather’s become very violent. I would separate your attraction from people from your decision to talk to anyone, especially when you have designs on what that person should be to you... It did happen unexpectedly, but they expect to dock in time We’re only some three miles out on the pennisula. Tell me the one in the pink windbreaker’s not underaged! I mean, separate your attraction from your reaction. Also, you don’t want to make the mistake of just talking to a girl because she’s pretty. At least we got to see loads of whales! That was Taft. That volunteer? Nah, she’s an undergrad, from what I--- Bad news for the whales, though---...

Within all things lies the information---other forms, willing generously into Intention, every necessity for realization! I feel like standing, trembling with control, extremities poised to the generation of powers, welling up inside my nature. What I knew as blood is called magma, roiling in patterns deeply, surging to declare the changes to the surface world. To think is to shudder. Stability now in waves, while tremors in our darkness declare: we do indeed, grow. Prince Nicola, Dragonvayne, flows as a consciousness on the fifth dimension, coalescing into a form, an embodiment of the metaphor of his present existence, which seems ghost-like from our remove. Emergence’s sea, drift in antipathy, the low end vibes, surrendering my good vessel to the urgencies at the shadowed heart of intentions, those seeming to fail misguided, interrupted---frustrated! Where in this lost land wait the creations of foreboding, haunting our tribes with fallen states? Mark! Where stands th...