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Transmission: 50-23-1-9-14—subfreq42

That was odd. I saw the sun peak over the horizon for just a moment and then the power went out.

So where was I?

Right… Standing in front of green orb… man at my shoulder… parents, little sister and my dog; Sally.

Oh, I loved that dog. On the day I was drafted I held that little dog for hours and wondered if I would ever see her again. My parents and my sister knew where I was going, but my little dog had no idea. She curled up on my lap and closed her eyes as I scratched her head and combed the fur on her back. She had no idea.

I miss my parents and I miss my sister but, most of all, I miss my dog.


I was standing in front the orb and I could not move. One of the guys in the blue jump suits went to my bunk and got some of my things… not there was much. I had a coat, a few extra socks, underwear, two Indian pads for writing and a box of pencils. There was a small tin box with pictures of my family and a pack of spearmint gum. That was it. My life was stuffed into a sack in a few minutes.

Someone helped my put on my coat. I couldn’t really see who it was because my eyes were frozen forward gazing into the green orb. The pack containing the rest of my life’s possession were thrown over my shoulder. I was able to reach up and keep it secure.

“Good luck, Private,” the deep voice said behind me. I noticed a hint of concern. Maybe sadness.

“Where I am going?” I asked as my body began to rise from the concrete floor. “What is happening to me?”

“You’re going on a trip, Private.”

“How? Where?”

“Looking back at that moment now, I’m sure someone said the moon but all I heard was, “moooooooooooooo…”

And in a slow blink of an eye I was trying to catch my breath. I was standing on a blue tiled floor in the middle of a dimly lit round room. Steam crawled around my and wrapped around my face. My vision was blurred.

“Where am I?” I said in a raspy voice. My throat was so dry. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

That’s when the computer snapped on for the first time. “Welcome home,” it said and then began beeping. I swear it was trying to make music for me.

“Who are you?”

“I am me. You are the Private.”

“You are…Me? That is going to be confusing.” I was talking to a computer. I had never seen a real computer, just the ones in the Saturday morning serials. They always had blinking lights, large dials, and wild electric bolts of lightning moving from one metal rod to another. This talking machine had none of that.

Let me describe Sally to you. (Not my dog. The computer. Yes, I did name her after my dog.);

She is basically a long white table full of buttons and meters, none of which I understand how to read or operate. But she does have a typewriter-like set of buttons made of hard white plastic that she refers to as a keyboard. It is here that I type you this electronic communication. I am watching the words appear on a screen in front of me instead of being smacked out on paper. I am still amazed. There is a microphone hidden somewhere in the machine. I have yet to find it, but Sally can here me through it. She responds to my voice through two round, black speakers on either side of the screen.

“How did I get here?” I asked.

“You were transferred via the portal.”

“What is a portal?”

“A way to get from one place to another.”

“Why was I… transported here?”

“That question is not relevant.”

With Sally’s guidance, I was able to manufacture food using a contraption that combined powder and various liquids into any meal I wanted. Macaroni and cheese is a favorite.

Sally told me that I was on Moon-Base 3-V. I asked if there were others.

“There were,” she answered cryptically.

I learned how to request books, movies and news reports from Sally. She has an amazing library inside her computer brain. I am always asking her questions. She doesn’t answer all of them but she answers most.

What can I do while I am here? I exercise, eat, sleep, read, watch movies and ask Sally questions.

I soon discovered that the base was created in the future. Yes… the future.

“Who built this place?” I asked Sally.

“I do not know the name or names, but I do know that my maker would have left an imprint on the back plate of my central unit.”

I didn’t know what a central unit was or where I could find it. The central unit could have been outside the station. I hoped not. I did not like the idea of having to go out there.

Sally did not know where her central unit was either. I spent many days unscrewing plates, lifting out complex looking gadgets from her white table while being careful not to accidentally unhook any wires… I looked behind and under everything I could get to. Moon dust and a few crumbs is what I found.

One day, I found the name plate. I was spinning a coin top of Sally’s desk and it fell between the screen and the speakers. I unscrewed the panel and fished around for the coin for an hour. It was something to do…. Then I found it. The nameplate was on the back of the panel. It was covered in a white silt, probably oxide mixed with moon dust, and was difficult to read. I rubbed it with some alcohol using a swab of tissue. The name appeared;

Brightbuckle Engineering.



Transmission: 50-23-1-8-14—subfreq42

No matter how I say this, no matter the proof I provide, I feel you won’t believe what I am about to reveal.

Ahhhh… this is not easy… but here it goes;

I’m a cartoonist, I live on a moon-base and the year is 1942.

There. I said it.

‘Thought I would feel much better getting it out in the open but I really don’t. Instead, I feel embarrassed…

You’ve been so very good about keeping in touch with me. I look forward to your messages and it’s been difficult keeping this truth from you. After what you shared with me last night, I realize that my silence was not right. You deserve the truth.

So, I’m sure, you are going to ask me for proof… that is, if you haven’t deleted my COMM address along with this most recent transmission. Who wouldn’t? So, what follows, is how I became a cartoonist. As already stated, it’s an unbelievable story but every bit of it is true.

As a youngster, I would scribble in my workbooks instead of mapping out the calculations my homework demanded. While other kids were taking notes, I was drawing boxes and filling them with funny faces.

The world was brimming with war from one corner of the world to the other but I found humor everywhere I turned. Funny hats, banana peels, colorful faces and the sound of comedy drifting from my radio. I listened to faceless people who told wonderful jokes to an audience I never could see. I needed to give these voices faces.

My drawings became more detailed with each passing year.

Then, like my other friends, I was drafted into service.

One day, while on the training base, I made a wrong turn and ended up inside a brightly lit hangar instead of the barracks. I had been busy scribbling in my pocket drawing tablet instead of looking where I was going. Inside the hangar was a massive… what was it? A machine? I really can’t give it a good enough description… It was a structure that, to this very day, has never been equaled in my eyes. I stood, frozen by the sight of Large metal arms scooping up and around each other, each covered by fantastic lights. It hummed and shimmered. The arms framed a magnificent green orb that was floating a few feet above the concrete floor. Men in white lab jackets walked around the orb while scribbling notes onto forms attached to their clip-boards. Other men, in dark blue jump-suits worked around a metal frame with tools and torches.

I put my drawing book into my back pocket and approached the orb, silently. Nobody seemed to notice me. I was face to face with the green light and I felt something inside it hum. I noticed the vibration gently reaching a place deep inside my head. It didn’t hurt but it felt like nothing I had ever felt before and this scared me. I tried to step back but something kept me in place.

“It’s got you,” said voice behind me. “Stand perfectly still, Private… what is your name, Private?”

I mumbled my name.

“Private… you are going on a journey. Not one you planned, but there is no turning back now. Is there anyone at home that you need us to contact?”

“Parents… little sister… my dog, Sally.”


What a wonderful Thanksgiving in the Brightbuckle home.
He turned that timer and it began.
I enjoyed seeing the look on his face when he knew there was no escaping the next few seconds. Despite knowing he was already caught, he tried to back away from the timer anyway.
He have me one last, resigned look before he vanished.
Now…. He’s back on an island somewhere in the past, somewhere in another dimension, somewhere so far from here that I should never have to see him again.
Well… Maybe.
A big maybe considering he was on that island once before and, apparently found his way off.
Anyway, the turkey was magnificent, the pies were wonderful, the afternoon was filled with laughter and everyone seemed to have forgotten about him. It was as if he was never there at all.
…Because he wasn’t.
Just one more mad scientist to deal with.
There are so many.


Hey, Kids!
I’m told, by that author person who follows me around, that the Holiday Edition is out today.

In this little tale, I have vanished and it’s up to Molly, George and Speegeltog to rescue me. GREAT FUN!
They follow my Kryptoplasmic Trail to a snow-covered world and a warehouse run by a jolly old man with a white beard and a red suit, whose name is “not Santa.” (Sure…)
Join Me on another adventure through time and space as Molly and her friends do their very best to bring their old Uncle Buster home before Christmas.

Brightbuckle Hoiliday WordPress

He made himself a fixture in the house. Somehow, this madman was able to go back in time, change events and make it so he was thought to be one of the family.

I locked myself in the lab day after day. Surfacing only to grab something to eat. I showered and changed in the lab bathroom. Molly would come down to visit. She knew what was happening and she knew that, sooner or later, I would find out what he was up to and how to reverse what he had done.

Then Thanksgiving day arrived.

Mary yelled at me for being unsociable. She said he was the nice brother in the house.

Brother? How did that happen?

I continued to not acknowledge him whenever possible. He laughed. He made me out to be an old fool. Even Skip said he was disappointed in me. His words really hurt. I tried to explain to him that this man was not our brother. He shook his head and told me that, if I continued to talk like this, he would have to call Doctor Martino.

Martino? That guy is a quack if there ever was one!

Thanksgiving morning was a nightmare. I awakened early in the afternoon to the sounds of that rotten monster cooking in Mary’s kitchen. Mary encouraged me to help. She was trying to patch things up between me and my brother. I continued to explain that he was not my brother and they had all been placed under a spell but they just didn’t realize it.

I was carrying my voice-to-text-converter in my pocket and transmitting every bit of dialog to the lab so I could read it later. I was thinking he might drop some hint of how he had accomplished this setup and I could trip him up. Maybe…

He had a cooking timer in his hand. He twisted the dial and announced that he was putting the pumpkin bread in the oven for exactly 35 minutes. Oh… My fake brother to chef! I advised that he should probably set his timer a little earlier because the oven tended to be hotter than the meter displayed. He grinned and twisted the meter to exactly 35 minutes and rested it on the counter.

That’s when I realized what I had to do.

I ran down to the lab and powered up the doors. I set the time for 11-12-13 and jumped through the door.

So here I am in the lab. It’s 11-12-13. That madman is sleeping on my sofa upstairs. I’ve wired a mini-remote super-plasma-conducting-transfer-coil to the inside of the timer. When the dial is twisted to 35, whoever is holding the unit will be pulled through the nearest door and sent back through time and space to the dimension of my choice. It’s going to take a little over two weeks for me to re-wire the door for the big event.

Ho Ho! I can’t wait to see what happens when he finally twists that dial.

I am going to send that maniacal fat-head back where he belongs!

Oh… ‘Have to go. I hear me coming down the stairs. I can’t let my other self know what I’m doing just yet.


Finally, everything is in synch, I thought to myself. The rings had worked and I was home.

When I opened the door, there was a burst of light and the expected ejection of mist that always crawls across the floor as it dissipates.

After my eyes adjusted, I could see that the lab was mostly dark with the exception of a small desk lamp casting shadows here and there.

Darwin was sitting in the front of the door waiting for a cookie. I retrieved one from my pocket. It was the kind shaped like a roll of nickels. I sniffed it… stale… and held it out for him as I gazed around the room.

He’s here, I thought. In the shadows? Under the stairs? Is that him behind the desk? No… just my coat.

I stood still and listened for any sounds. Darwin tugged the oversized cookie from my hand and scurried away with it protectively.

“Don’t worry, Darwin. I’m not going to take it away from you, boy.” Upon hearing his name, he glanced back and stared at me for a moment before hiding under the mahogany desk.

I heard a thump from the floor above. Someone is up there… My brother? Sister-in-law? Molly? or was it him?

Another thump and Darwin’s head popped out from under the desk. He had the stale cookie between his teeth. He looked like an old man chomping on a fat cigar. He growled.

“What is it, boy?” I asked. He growled again and then grunted. Then he crawled back under the desk, curled up and farted.

Another thump.

I tip-toed up the stairs and carefully opened the door. I peered into the dining room. I could see one half of the dining table. Molly was seated at the end and she was doing her homework with George in the chair next to her. Someone else was in the room but I couldn’t see who. It was more then one person. Soft voices… glasses tinkling… ice cubes… plates and pots…. kitchen sounds.

I walked into the room and cleared my throat. Molly turned and saw me standing there. She jumped from her chair and ran to me screaming my name. “Uncle Buster!” I held her close as George rushed to greet me as well. I held up my hand for a High-Five and he slapped my palm hard.

“Ouch,” I said and laughed. Maybe everything was okay after all.

“Mom! Dad! Look who made it, just in time, to eat!” She tugged me into the dining area as my brother, Chip and sister-in-law, Mary, rushed to greet me.

The room was decorated for Halloween. A fat pumpkin grinned at me from the nearby living-room. The candle played light tricks against the walls and floor. I love carving pumpkins and felt sad that I wasn’t around the carve this one with Molly. Sadder that they had done a pretty decent job without me.

“Where have you been, Buster?” Chip asked as he slapped me on the shoulder.

“Buster, Buster, Buster,” Mary said shaking her head and smiling. It was always difficult to tell if she was mad at me or just found me funny.

My brother waited for an answer.

“Later, Chip” I said. He shook his head understanding.

“Just in time for dinner,” he said lifting the mood in the room immediately. He turned to his wife. “Mary? We have enough in that pot for this hungry man?” he asked.

I turned to see her standing behind the stove in the kitchen. She was shaking her head and laughing. “Enough to feed an army,” she said.

Behind her… he was there. Nonchalant… sipping the brew from a spoon… leaning against the wall.

He looked at me.

I glared at him.

A smile formed on his lips. He showed me his brilliant yellow teeth. Then he looked at my sister-in-law. “It tastes wonderful,” he said.

I stepped closer. Molly was still tucked under my arm hugging me as I moved. I looked around the room for something I could use as a weapon. Something I could hit him over the head with. Something I could grab quickly before he was aware…

He looked at me and smiled again. To everyone in the room, he appeared so friendly. But I knew that what I was looking at was pure evil.

“What are you doing here?” I asked. My throat was dry and shaky.

“Waiting for you,” he said.

Everyone could sense the tension in the room it became very quiet with the exception of the bubbling from the stew pot.

Molly looked at me from her comfortable position under my arm. “Is this when I’m supposed to say uh-oh?” she asked.



Brightbuckle… Brightbuckle…

Will you ever learn?

You spend so much of your energy skipping through time that you ignore the details.

In our world, there is no present.

Whenever you are, there you’ll be… Breathing the air of the present.

But you and I choose which present to rest our tired feet. And… we do have restless feet, don’t we, dear Brightbuckle? Neither of us can stay put for very long.

You just happen to be stuck back there… and I happen to be right here in your lab with my feet up on your beat up old mahogany desk.

What to do? What to do?

Your dog looks hungry… I wonder when was the last time this mutt had anything to eat? His tag has his name… Darwin? Very clever. You always give me a good laugh, Mister B.

Ah-hah… The big door on the right is humming to life. Someone’s coming! I wonder who that could be knocking on time’s door?

Heh he heh. Hehe…

See you soon…



Lucy on the ledge dressed as Superman.

Such a treat to watch this episode on the old set again.

Remember I showed you this episode, Molly? Your Mom and Dad gave me the Lucy DVD box set for my birthday a few years back.

But, seeing it here in the living room, on the old set, stretched out on the old sofa and drinking my coffee out of my favorite mug…. Bliss.

Static, bloated black and white image, all the sound coming from a tiny three inch speaker.
Loving this little forced vacat1111110N

Wait…. The s0000unddd is. 333 off.

There i2222 s someth1Ng goin258 on… The imag €^*><###~~~||||| frozen on the Tube.

The voice to tex7 is 4ot workkkkkkkk 1ng correctly …

The birds outside have stopped chirping. The coffee pot is not bubbling.


This can indicate only one thiiiiiiiii77777nnng.

Cracks are appearing in my Roy Roger mug. This is way before I actually broke it but the cracks are forming in exactly the same places.

Time is overlapping… At least I think so.

Oh, my… It’s him. He’s hacked into the system again. How is he doing this?

Molly, switch to frequency 5.0097 on the back-up communicator. I’ll send you an encrypted instruction. You can decode using our secret keyword.

I just found something in the pocket of my Dad’s old robe. This can’t be!

How c0uLd 7his be here? It’s the Plasma-tr4;:://)$&8/6623; ….>>>>. R

D222mn. What?

I have a feeling he knew all along what was go11111111 ng 0000nnn

%*+{[[370000 p ooooooo ()~~>< kkkk

Fffffffffffffff ppp



Brightbuckle… Brightbuckle…

Honestly. That was the easiest password to figure out. Here I am… Feet up on your desk… Waiting for you to transmit your silly messages to little Molly.

Guess what?


When she saw my black boots coming down the stairs she jumped through the nearest door with that brat-boy-friend of hers and… What’s his name? George?

If I am reading the scopes correctly, she should be running through a jungle right now. A jungle very far away… And very long ago. My… The creatures that roamed the earth back then. Huge!

I’m betting she’s the only human.

Hah! Maybe she’s the one who did all of those fancy cave paintings! Wouldn’t that be a funny twist?

Oh, look…. You’ve sent her a message. How sweet…

Do you really think this relay-to-blog system of communicating is a good idea?

Well… Now that I know where you are…. Stuck between doors with a pocket full of mysterious candy… it would be very cruel of me to leave you stranded there. Especial since it smells so terrible. It’s probably hot and the air is running out… Am I correct?

I know…

I’ll send you someplace fun.

I hope you enjoy your time away.

When you get back… Rather, if you get back… I wonder if you like how I’ve redecorated your place.

Please feel free to blog about it.

Heh heh…

Your friend,



I can only hope that the repairs I made to the old Transonic-Ultra-Link converter worked and you are reading this message. If all goes well, the transmission will have hit the relay in my lab and posted itself to that funny blog you convinced me to start writing in. (Honestly, I still don’t get the point… Why did you have me do that again? I can’t imagine anyone but you actually reading it.)

If you are c#^+=+* ing the blog you’ll eventually see this post. I need you to readjust the first module, the #<£¥+*^28 … Hki. This is not wr{|++^g correctly. Too much inter43re5ce::;;77555….


At least I got o relax and watch some fantastic old TV shows. (I really do love Lucy! Hah. So funny.) And… Guess what candy bar I found? That’s right. Why did they ever stop making these. It’s whole pocket full for you.

Tccccccc ff f gig 1299996-34(668)0 sppppppppp

M l. Y



only have another minute to type. This thing is going to fry in a moment.

I am stuck between doors. I can’t push past this last one.
Ohm kit ghyred
power level not right.
Set to 4507ht-13

I’ll keep pushing on this last door. Scan for me on he second scope off the main board. I should appear as a 45b signal. You know the year.

Oh… I hope not to get stuck here. It smells like burned popcorn and gasoline!

Don’t let me down, Molly!

Your Uncle Buster loves you!!!

Wow… It stinks in h3333rrr

Oh.. and tell George I fnd h yo59’hgfc467