|
||||||||||||
|
|
||||||||||||
|
Chessville
Chess
Place Your Ad Advertise to Single insert:
|
JAX
Chess News G-d Bless America The editor Bradley Zang would like you to know that some of these stories are so unbelievable even he doesn't believe them. Strange Chess News The Jacksonville, Florida (USA) area has a very active chess club, and publish an interesting and informative newsletter, called the JAX Chess News, edited and written by Bradley Zang (Editor's note: I've never actually met Brad, nor seen his ID, so I can not vouch that this is his real name. It could be an alias used by anyone - even Bobby Fischer!) With Brad's (or whomever's) kind permission, we bring you the Strange Chess News section from their awesome newsletter. Enjoy! [Archived Issues - Part 1: Who Doesn't Want You To See These Reports?] Hamoukar Disgruntled Player Syndrome Reported Straphanger Memory Altering Reported
Spontaneous Changing
Road and
Hamoukar Disgruntled Player
Syndrome Reported What is it about Syrian desert that awakens such great ideas? We've all heard about Jonah, Paul and Mohammed getting inspirational revelations there, but did you know that Philip Stamma came out from a Syrian desert walk to become the father of modern chess, or that Gene Roddenberry a promoter of chess through Star Trek, got his creative inspiration for it, when his plane crashed in the Syrian desert. It is said Pythagoras (of Geometric fame) while traveling the Syrian wasteland came up with one of his lesser known but perhaps greatest theorems. It states that all things within the universe emit a tone. Perhaps its just a coincidence. Pythagoras a student of animals and insects might have just noticed that even inanimate types of Larvae vibrate. ( Triceratops beetle is a good example.) Perhaps we should look to the Roman scribe Titus Lucretius Carus (50 BCE) for our first clue to the answer. He wrote about a mysteries place, " In Syria also- as men say- a spot Is to be seen, where also four-foot kinds, As soon as ever they've set their steps within, Collapse, o'ercome by its essential power". Today when we look back at that arcane desert spot mentioned by Lecretus our advanced technological knowledge makes the mysterious just a minor curiosity. For example: We now know sound waves inaudible to humans of frequencies of 40000 hertz can disorient (even make the animal fall down) ie: dogs, horses, cattle. But, can infra or ultra sound affect people? Scientists like Ciarán O'Keeffe now at Liverpool Hope University's Psychology department has conducted tests to answer this question. http://news.dmusic.com/print/6142 Among some of the results so far are inaudible sounds cause anger and the feeling that ghosts are nearby. Chess also seems to invoke anger in some people. Wars have been started over games and Chess History is riddled with quotes from angry disgruntled players. Even the fairest minded of men show signs of this. In the early part of the 18th century Scottish Judge Lord Kames (Henry Homes) upon sentencing an old chess companion to death once said " And that Thomas is checkmate" With this background let Anwar Aleppo tell his story. Thank you for hearing my story. We Syrians hope some day to have a free press like America. Maybe it's just bad luck but unhappily, almost all of our public Free Press proponents are also criminals, so they get sent to jail and never get elected. My wife Waha and I are wandering Bedouins. My camels have taken us to many cities in Syria. Let me also assure you I do not believe The Great Prophet (Mohammed) meant chess makes you angry when he said "He who played chess is like one who dyed his hand with the flesh and blood of swine ." This may have been an ancient cure for arthritis. Who really knows? Waha and I play chess all the time. Friendly loving games. One day last January while traveling near Iraq's boarder, my Camels and Donkey started crying out, staggering and collapsed. They were unwilling to go further. I then saw why, a great sandstorm was approaching. My wife and I went looking for cover. Like a miracle I saw what looked like a great eye open in the sand. It led to an underground bunker. My flashlight wouldn't work inside but fortunately our torches did. Looking around I thought this must be a military bomb shelter but like none I had ever seen before. The stone was smooth like glass. My wife and I had very few supplies but she is a great cook. At first I though I should go outside and butcher the animals. I don't know why but when my wife found a small puddle of underground honey I was disappointed that I didn't have to kill my camel. The honey was sweet and since the storm wouldn't let up, we ended up playing many chess games. Each time Waha won, I thought it would be so easy to find another wife. I could say she wondered off in the desert. When I won, I always liked to laugh but stopped because my wife had this glaring look in her eyes. The second day my Waha quickly took back a move. I was enraged we almost came to blows. All the time I felt the hairs on the back of my neck twitching as though someone was watching me. I even saw an ethereal hand pointing out the move I should make. I began hearing whispers about new opening moves. I must say some of my games were amazing it was like some kind of inspiration came over both of us. Playing creative game. It was like voices in my head were telling me " Be dynamic here. Play a more creative endgame." I never even thought you could be creative in the endgame. The third morning I won all the games. I jokingly told my wife, " if I had three more like her, maybe they could keep my interest." I then bent down to get some water from the canteen and my wife tried to tackle me pounding me with her little fists. We crashed into a wall that just cracked like glass and gallons of honey came pouring out. What I saw sitting their covered with glass and honey shocked me. It was hundred of combs of Bug larvae, some of the larvae the size of basket balls. I tried to gain my composure but my wife kept hitting me. Suddenly from behind the wall of semi solidified honey comb came a man. At least I though it was a man. He had giant eyes and no ears. I yelled at him, "Who are you? What are you?". He didn't respond. Well scared and enraged, I attacked him. I would have gotten him too, if my wife would have stopped hitting and choking me. He then started making a shrill sound. All the combs seem to oscillate to his sound. The whole cavern lit up and I soon lost consciousness. Three days later my wife and I woke up in Mosul Iraq. Our animals had dragged us their in make shift litter. Some towns folk then told me a legend the most ancient city in the world Tell Hamoukat. Tell Hamoukar, was ruled by the earless ones ( Hamoukar means earless ones in Pashtun). The Hamoukar with great eyes led their people through a golden era of technological wonder and prosperity. One day for no reason, the humans were enraged, rioted fought amongst themselves and destroyed the town. Could this have been the Hamoukar. Please investigate!! It could not have been a dream. My wife and I have the same story. If my wife and I can reconstruct some of those games you will think either we are grandmasters or something is up. Our editor Brad Zang refused to form an investigation committee. He said, "What is this "if"? Send us some games and we will consider your request. This is a Chess News Letter not some whatever. "
Straphanger Memory Altering Reported A soon to be President, Martin Van Buren once forewarned , "'Railroad carriages are pulled at the enormous speed of 15 miles per hour by 'engines' which, in addition to endangering life and limb of passengers, roar and snort their way through the countryside, setting fire to crops, scaring the livestock and frightening women and children. The Almighty certainly never intended that people should travel at such breakneck speed." Also, it been proposed by the Carneades School of Mnemonics that an encryption code or natural password guards the memory in our minds (an encephalitic key if you may}. If found, someone or something could alter our memories, dreams, aspirations and our very personalities. There are many ancient schools of Memory or Mnemonics. Most schools accept that memory is an abstract process but the Carneades are true skeptics and believe memory is a tangible structure. To help us understand this Strange Chess News we managed to get an interview with an expert at Carneades Mnemonics, who wishes to remain anonymous. We Shall call him M.
Elliotte: How could one find this key? When I got home I found out that I lost my job at the Kagoshima Space Center. Fortunately, I soon found a better job working for International Superconductivity Technology Center in Morioka. So I would ride the Shinkansen (Bullet Train) from Tokyo to Morioka every day to get to work. About four months ago I noticed the same small boy I met on the Mag Lev. He would always sit next to me playing chess by himself . We began playing each other regularly on my way to work. After about two months, others on that train were playing chess. I didn't think much of it until I noticed that other cars on the train had chess players. At first I assumed it was a coincidence that those who played white, wore all white that day and others wore black. I would sometimes try and talk to the other player but when they looked up it was as if they didn't understand what I said. They kept asking me to repeat myself over and over. I started bringing family and friends on the train ride to see my games. Last months, for about two weeks, I was hospitalized for depression. When the Prozac that they prescribed finally took effect, I was released. I went back to work and didn't care about chess. I was just happy to sit there on the train. What I found most curious was the children. Many, many children under five years old would ride the train playing chess and get off at Sendia, a stop before mine. One day, I was early for work and got off in Sendia with the children. I followed them to the Sendia Observatory. They would sit in the planetarium area and use it as a day care center. I expected to see children playing chess or darumaotoshi (blocks). What I saw was a bunch of children writing higher mathematical equation in crayon. The two adult supervisors, one wearing white, the other black just staring into a chess board. One child was working on schematics for building a machine. I grabbed it from him. He just looked at me. Then all the children started to stare at me. I decided to leave with the schematic. I went back to the train stop and decided to go back to Tokyo. I am an electrical engineer and I readily recognized some of the designs using ultra cold sodium gas2 to stop light for data transmission in the schematic for transfer to a Mag lev system. It looked like the one planned for China. This seemed to be cutting edge science written by a two year old. I planned to take the schematic to our Boeicho Jieitai ( Military) the next day. When I got home my wife was still asleep so I crawled in to bed. My wife awoke, screamed and called the police. She acted as if she didn't know me and had me arrested. When I got out on bail, I went to my job. No one there knew me. They had me thrown out. They don't even recognize me at my old space center job or any where. My parents said they have a son but it is not me. I live on the street now. Please investigate."
Our Editor Brad Zang refused to form an investigation committee. He noted
"It is not our policy to investigate anything to do with men in black.
Further M and those Carneades Mnemonics proponents are just a bunch of
fanatical computer programmers turned social Darwinist. Oh! some people
mistakenly believe that Prozac is the cure for everything. It will even
protect us from Aliens attempting to control our mind.
The Hirpi of Chess I think we've all met these people before. Whether they're teachers, technicians or opponents for some reason when you know you've done poorly, they invariably add these words to their evaluation, "I've never seen anyone do this so poorly before." or, "No one has ever failed before." or " I've never fired anyone for this before." Interestingly when you check with other people they say the same things have been said to them by the same person, about the same exam, game or job. It's almost as if these words are programmed to embarrass you to a point that you don't check the results. Most people don't know they are signature tag lines used by Transformation Ritual Abuse Cult members (TRAC). Some TRAC members may be great chess players. Why? Reports have reached us of a study at Lucerne Institute of Psychological Research. Their theory is that punishment results in endorphins used to minimize pain and this combined with the adrenaline effectively open up previously underutilized neural pathways. The Lucerne study involved spankings and showed an increase in average IQ by 38% overall.
http://www.spankoz.net/spankings_make_you_smarter.htm
It should be noted some children have written to claim the reports of the study are an internet hoax perpetrated by parents run amuck. Still, no pain, no gain is not a new idea.) One of the most dangerous ways of self inflicting pain is by barefoot walking across burning wood but piercing, branding, scarification and tattooing are also common amongst TRAC counter cultures. With this background, let Anthony Petrafessor tell his story. "I grew up in Naples, Italy but liked to go camping all around our beautiful country. Last month while tenting near Monte Sorrate (North of Rome), it got very cold and my wife and I built a large campfire. We like to play chess outside our tent under the stars at night. One night a barefoot backpacker walked up to our camp and watched our game. He kept staring and so I invited him over to play. He calmly walked through the campfire, sat down and started playing. I wondered why is he still alive. I thought my game was going well when the stranger said, " If you resign now we can play another game." Well I eventually lost. Instead of being gracious he said, "I've never played such a weak player." I felt the anxiety of humiliation and started to sweat. He suddenly got up and walked through the fire again. This time he cast even a bigger shadow. He looked 30 centimeters taller ( about a foot) . It was as if he was growing and getting stronger from my bad feelings. We played again and this time he won in 25 moves. Then he said, "Some people aren't smart enough for chess. Maybe you should take up tic tac toe." I started to notice all the disgusting metal piercing on his face. I then noticed he had tattoos instead of hair on his head. What really bothered me was his jaw seemed larger and his build stronger then earlier, but I smiled because I didn't want to let him know he hurt my feelings or that he was making me dizzy and sweaty. My wife asked him not to walk on the campfire because it was frightening her, but to please partake of some dinner. He sat down and ate with us for about an hour. After the meal we played again and as the game went on, all I could think of was how bad his feet smelled. Well, the next game I won by going to an early endgame. I thought, "You've just got beaten by the worst player you ever met", but I held that thought, smiled and said I was lucky. I won the next game. He stared into my eyes and I said, "I was very lucky". He knocked the pieces over and said this is no way to improve; pain and humiliation makes one improve. He looked smaller then before. I mentioned he looked cold and weak and could I offer him some socks. I bragged how the love of my life gave me a set of expensive and very warm cashmere socks. My wife gave me one of those looks like you want that odor on your socks. Since in Italy we are gracious hosts, I went inside to get my socks and made sure to spray the inner side with, a strong foot deodorant Desenex. He put them on thanked me and told me he was a Hiripi. For 3 millennium his people would fire walk and ritually abuse themselves. It was done to attain greater powers and intelligence. We played again, he won and said, "Your game is pathetic take back your socks". He got up and walked through the camp fire. He screamed from pain and jumped out of the fire. We took him to the hospital. I haven't seen him since but do you have any idea how I can contact this group to learn their technique. Did my smile or friendliness make him lose some of his powers?. Our editor Brad Zang did allow a minor investigation. Here are some of our conclusions. Some have theorized that certain genetic mutations handed down from family members produce sweaty smelly feet called skunk feet. It was probably developed to ward off animals. Anyway skunk feet may generate an insulating layer of water vapor called Leidenfrost, preventing burning. 1) The Hiripi are mentioned in the Roman Record as fire walkers, priests and ritual abusers in Falisci (Roman Province near Rome). They were actually exempt from military service by the Roman Senate. Either because they were believed to have special powers or they smelled so bad that other Roman legionnaires didn't want to sleep near them. 2) We have heard stories about Hiripi of Chess operating out of Tattoo Parlors. Some of these TRAC cults even try and get church tax status for their Tattoo Parlors. 3) We can't believe people get taller or special powers from disciplines that involve humiliation and pain. Or power from the people they humiliate. 4) We did discover that the Desenex you used in the socks also has strong antiperspirant salts that absorb water. It probably got on his feet causing them to stop sweating eliminating the insulating water vapor barrier protecting his feet. So he burned his feet. Your kindness gave him a hot foot, but keep smiling anyway.
Spontaneous Changing Road In August, of 1227, upon the death of perhaps the most ruthless bloodthirsty chessplayer in history, known to many as the Universal Ruler, the Scourge of Islam, Ghengis Khan, secrecy was the demon most worshiped. Legend has it that thousands of mourners at the funeral were massacred. The warriors that slaughtered the mourners were then slain by an imperial priesthood called the Mongke Dao (The eternals of the way). That priesthood worshipped The Kahn as an almighty deity. The Mongke Dao may still exist today, guarding his remains. For the preists believe if his corpse is disturbed his soul will be destroyed as well as the powers it conveys. Also buried there may be the greatest treasure the world has ever known, but more importantly his most valued chess set, known to the world by its name the Suren of Chess. One warning though, what they call a Burilgi-Icah Cahoring or destroyer curse was put upon the grave site for those who disturb it. History records the name of this site as Buddha's crown, somewhere in Mongolia. Oh, Ghengis the Kahn of Kahns had many names’ and one was the shaman of the road because he seemed able to bring his hoard of 100,000 men on horseback 2000 miles across the Asiatic Steppe in days. With this background let Kamar Amin tell his story. First let me thank you for hearing my story. I was born in Balkh (Afghanistan) but I now live and work in Kabul (Capitol of Afghanistan). I am an accountant by profession. Now that the Taliban stopped speading thier self righteous sheep dung, better they should have used it as deodorant. Chess is back! They banned it you know. We had to play in secret for fear of arrest. Many tournaments are still conducted in secret. We possess some wonderful players here but I by far am the finest. I haven't met a man I couldn't beat until now. This because I am the follower of a secret ancient chess inculcation. I follow the ancient teachings of the Balku Sufi mystic Jalal ad-Din who once said, "To wit, to play chess with them by thyself. When Thou shalt become one entity with us and you." I don't expect you to understand these words at first. It requires great method and study.
By the way I was intrigued by your last Strange News because I too travel
looking for chess companions. But I am not rich enough yet to jet around.
Last month when, I attended a tournament in Mazar-I-Sharief I expected an
uneventful drive back to Kabul on the Salang Highway. I followed all road
signs but seemed to get lost. After a while I drove by a encampment of
tents, so I stopped to ask for directions. I called out and a man with a
badly scared face came out to greet me. He pointed out where we were on my
map and invited me in. I knew not to offend people so I came in for a drink.
He had the most beautiful ornate chess set I had ever seen placed like a
centerpiece for his tent. I couldn't take my eyes off it. So he asked if I
wanted to play. I played him a few games and let us just say I almost beat
him in four moves. It was a joke. So I decided to go on my way. He begged me
to play him again but I left. I continued on the road following every detail
of the map but was still lost. I tell you the road signs seemed to keep
changing all by themselves. I even changed directions a few times driving on
the same road three or four times. Each time the road signs at intersections
had different names on them. I kept thinking Da-sama-lara-na-da (No
translation ?? It may be a Pashtoon trans-literation of a common phrase for
road confusion first attributed to George S. Patton "I would rather have a
German division in front of me than a French one behind me."). After about
two hours I noticed another tent encampment and decided to ask questions.
Well you guessed it the same man came out this time, with 10 other men, all
with badly scared faces. I asked him to point out where we were on the map.
He did and invited me in. This time I declined and went on my way. Well you
guessed it, the same thing happened. I tell you one minute a sign would say
one thing but if I went back to it. It said something else. I was so tired
after another two hours when I reached the tent encampment again; I asked if
I could spend the night. Well hospitality abounds here in Afghanistan. I got
a bed and my own tent, as well as a great feast. I woke up that afternoon,
walked around the camp only to find my host sitting by his chess set. Since
I was grateful I played him a few more games, always crushing him. I asked
how he and his friends were injured. He said that it was the work of
Muhammad Khwarizm. I thought nothing of it, there are so many warlords here.
Well I decided to take off again. Before I left, he asked me to tell him my
secret for winning. I said, "no secret", I left on the road again. I
eventually ran out of gas. A passerby decided to stop and lend me a couple
of gallons. Well I ran out of gas again, right in front of the tent
encampment. This time they fixed me up with a beautiful belly dancer, but, I
needed to leave. I needed gas but no one in the encampment had any. Anyway
after two weeks of playing chess and being fixed up with a different belly
dancer every night I was willing to trade my secret for a way home. Before I
could, Sheik Burns (as I called him) came in with an offer to trade my
secret for his. See, he and his men were ambassadors from the great Ghengis
Kahn. He was the Kahn’s friend and chess companion. Sheik Burns went on,"I
had played on the great Suren of Chess. Of coarse the rules were different
then for example no castling made it easier for my adversaries. The Kahn
trusted me because all his other chess opponents ran away and I always lost
to him. Entrusted to head a mission of peace for the great Mongol empire, I
was sent to Khwarazmian (the Persian empire encompassing todays Afghanistan,
Pakistan and Iran) to demand satisfaction for theft of goods and
mistreatment of Mongol traders. Instead of reparations the Shah Muhammad
Khwarizm set out a joyous feast and then had us restrained and set our
beards on fire. Laughing he then sent us home in humiliation. This was not a
great idea because my friend the Kahn had anger management problems. In
response the Kahn wiped out the Khwarazmiam Persian empire but also punished
his embassadors. He did not accept failure cursing us to guard the way of
the roads forever. One of these mystic roads leads to his remains, treasure
and the most valued great chess set The Suren of Chess. Mine is only a cheap
copy of his. The Kahn's is filled with Shaman magic and with it you could
become the greatest chess player in the world." Our editor Brad Zang refused to form an investigation committee, he said, "This guy's going to remember a map? He can't read a map. But good luck with your upcoming trip. I mean what could go wrong?"
|
The Chessville
The
|
||||||||||
|
||||||||||||
