“‘Alternate Reality Gaming”–In Spades’ (2019)

It’s not politically correct to say so, but it is true and so I’m going to say it:

There is no “alternate reality.”

There is only “reality,” period, which each and every one of us is stuck with whether we like it or not.

And Ong’s Hat, New Jersey, is not a “portal” into another universe.

‘Alternate Reality Gaming’–in Spades

No top-secret lab, no starship base, no “Beam me up, Scott!” Just a wide spot in the road. And not even wide enough to notice. Trust me, I’ve been there.

The whole business was the product of a computer game. Someone made it up. When loonies who thought it was real started creeping up to his house and peering through his windows, the inventor discontinued the game.

But as long as we’ve got our nooze media, we’ll never run out of “alternate reality.”

‘Make Mine Frothy’ (‘Oy, Rodney’)

a gripping page-turner headed for the top of the NY Times bestseller list | Romance novels, Funny romance, Book parody

It is my sad duty to report that Violet Crepuscular, the Queen of Suspense and author of the epic romance novel, Oy, Rodney, was punished this past week with 15 minutes in the ducking stool–for allowing a freakin’ commercial [For Frothee Creme… “Now you can always get a head!”] in the middle of Chapter DXXXI. This archaic punishment has been outlawed everywhere in the world except for Ongs Hat, New Jersey. She had the misfortune to be passing through there on Wednesday, and the local beadle recognized her from a dream and swiftly arrested her. Trial and sentence were carried out immediately after: they don’t putter around in Ongs Hat.

Woman on a Ducking Stool - English School as art print or hand painted oil.

(The famous “sturgeon’s photograph” of the Ongs Hat ducking stool in action

All of which gets us, somehow, to Chapter DXXXIV. The Frothing Dragon of Scurveyshire is frothing all over Scurveyshire and damaging potentially valuable real estate.

“Dadburn it!” expostulates the American adventurer, Willis Twombley. “If I shot that critter once, I shot him 20 times! And all I got to show for it is, up to my knees in froth!”

Here Ms. Crepuscular takes a break to talk about her ducking.

“You could drown, y’know–you really could! Do you know they left me underwater for the whole 15 minutes–while they went over to the diner for hot dogs? I have a good mind to sue them!”

So… What happens in Chapter DXXXIV? To say nothing of Chapters DXXXII and DXXXIII. Anyone can write blank chapters!

Maybe they didn’t dunk her long enough.

‘Alternate Reality Gaming’–in Spades

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As you read this, remind yourself that our country boasts the biggest, costliest public education system ever devised by human beings.

Here is some of what we get for it.

A dot on a map of New Jersey called “Ong’s Hat,” in the heart of the Pine Barrens, has fascinated people for years. What kind of town would have a name like that? Patty and I went there once, just to see it for ourselves. But there was nothing to see: just a lot of trees and a little-traveled road.

And then one Joseph Matheny in the 1990s invented an Internet game called “Ong’s Hat,” billed as “the secret to interdimensional travel.” And it took off.

“Alternate reality gaming” fans flocked to Ong’s Hat–which, remember, is nothing in particular–looking for a secret laboratory where rogue scientists discovered a way to visit parallel universes: not to mention the parallel universe now inhabited by some of these gamers. The most popular local legend had it that the place got its name from a man named Mr. Ong who, exasperated by a fight with his girlfriend, threw his hat into the air and lost it when it got caught in a tree. But now it was seen to be the nexus of a lot of far-out, conspiratorial goings-on. Gamers even went to Matheny’s house in California to peer through his windows, trying to spy out clues to the secret.

Finally, having decided that enough was enough already, Matheny discontinued the game in 2001. But a lot of people didn’t believe him when he said it was only a game that he’d made up. Sort of like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle refusing to believe Houdini’s admission that he had no genuine magical powers. “Yeah, right!” said Doyle.

Just this morning my editor, Susan, and I were talking about people who can’t seem to understand that science fiction isn’t real; and then Patty read me this article about the Ong’s Hat game which, for some, mutated into a full-blown delusion.

There is no interdimensional travel. There are no starships capable of faster-than-light “warp speed.” No time travel, no evidence that anything like a parallel universe exists, no Slender Man–and there was no secret science project headquartered in the nowhere that is Ong’s Hat.

And they say we’re credulous for believing the Bible.

Maybe we should’ve spent more time in college.

Jackalope Population Explosion!

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This candid photo of a mother jackalope fiercely defending her young was taken by an amateur washing machine repairman in Ongs Hat, New Jersey. He had a narrow escape.

We are getting jackalope reports from all over the country now, a strong indication that the jackalope population has increased dramatically. Scientists believe it’s because of Climate Change and transphobia. What the jackalopes themselves believe is a secret.

They look cute and cuddly, but don’t get too close! A pack of hungry jackalopes can skeletonize a grown man in less than 60 seconds. I have always wanted to use the word “skeletonize” in a sentence, and now I’ve done so.

Where ‘The Jersey Devil Lurks’

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I wish I could have found a full-color image of this painting. Unfortunately, the original was lost years ago, and this black-and-white is all I could get. In the original, the prevailing color scheme is a rather sinister yellow. I saw a color photo of it many, many years ago in Life Magazine, and never forgot it. I think I must have been ten years old or less.

If you’ve never passed through the Jersey Devil’s home territory, the New Jersey Pine Barrens, I can tell you there’s no other place quite like it. Technological progress left it behind early in the 19th century, the local economy shriveled up, most of the people moved away, and their towns, homes, and factories fell into ruin. The region is known for its odd place names–Ongs Hat, Double Trouble, Speedwell–and its sandy tracks that may or may not accommodate your car and may or may not lead somewhere, or nowhere. A part of it features large vistas of stunted pines that plays tricks on your eyes. You’d swear, from your vantage point on the road, that the pines were full-size. And then a child comes walking through them, and you startle because you think you’re seeing a giant little girl.

All in all, it’s just the kind of country the Jersey Devil would choose to live in, if it lives at all. No one knows. There’s only belief or disbelief.

But when you find yourself alone on one of those deserted, feeble imitations of a road, disbelief is a little harder to come by.