A Lot to Unpack Here. Let’s Get Started.

How did I not see this? Standing right in front of me. Speaking words of wisdom. Let it Be. 

I’m always amazed when a paradigm-shattering event of monumental significance detonates in our midst, and then is promptly scrubbed from memory once the next day’s news cycle begins. I’m referring, of course, to the recent discovery of an interdimensional portal to a parallel universe. How is it that such a colossal spiritual windfall seems to have gone almost unnoticed? Thankfully both the dust and the amnesia associated with this monumental explosion has begun to vanish and it’s forcing people to reassess deeply held beliefs in fields ranging from the nature of God to the sport of competitive eating. So whether your interests lie in self-awareness or in self-engorgement, this revelatory portal has something to offer everyone.   

The very first portal to these parallel universes was accidentally excavated by little Timmy Cratchit when the eager lad was digging at the bottom of a box of Froot Loops in hopes of grasping its buried prize – a miniature Batmobile. Instead of the Batmobile he found something that was well beyond his grasp. Well beyond anybody’s grasp for that matter. Neither Timmy nor his soon-to-be concerned parents expected the 6 year-old to stumble upon the Holy Grail of entryways: a welcoming portal to unspeakable profundity.

Maybe I Should Just Stop

I’m reluctant to continue this “portal to parallel universes” allegory because descriptions of this interdimensional experience are truly unEnglishable, i.e., mere words fail to encompass its awesome majesty and may even serve to trivialize it. Sometimes our all-to-clever, but limited minds look to assign familiar and easy comparisons to an experience that is well beyond words. But since I’m in the word business, and this tale contains so many of them, I’ll attempt to cast a verbal net over the experience of crossing over into these portals and provide the reader with a sense of its’ audacious splendor. Below are a sampling (3) of descriptions I’ve formulated to tease out the contours and the significance of this naturally occurring portal. Process it all with your mind if you must, but invoke a different processor, if you can.

How Do I Explain Thee? Let Me Count the Ways (3)

In the first instance, this portal is an easily negotiated aperture into a realm of intensified awareness that provides the traveler with an immediately apprehended resolution of age-old vexations.

In the second description, you enter the portal a tremulous adventurer, and you return a rapturously grinning guru.

In the third perspective, entering this portal erases all doubt about the meaning and purpose of existence, and supplants it with a simple yet inexpressible understanding bathed in transcendent clarity.

To restate my original point; these portals defy description. It seems our imperfect minds simply cannot encompass them. It would be like trying to explain molecular biology to a chipmunk. Oh sure, they’d look like they were listening, but all they’re really thinking about are the nuts in your hand.    

Back to the Breakfast Table

And to think, this holiest of ingresses was to be found in an ordinary box of Froot Loops. Who knew the Messiah would return in the form of a toucan? To paraphrase Forest Gump: “Life is like a box of Froot Loops – you never know what you’re gonna get.”

Speculation on the existence of portals to parallel universes has always been an aspirational endeavor and is pursued by visionaries who seek other epic achievements like Cold Fusion, Self-driving golf clubs or a cure for stupid people. But unlike those cul de sacs, this door has an actual outlet. And it was first observed at the Cratchit family breakfast table on May 8^th 2019 in New London, CT. Timmy’s dad Bob Cratchit described the scene:

Like a prairie dog after drinking too much Red Bull, our little Timmy was digging furiously into a box of Froot Loops. He was determined to get that Batmobile at the bottom. Mrs. Cratchit and I were laughing at the spray of Froot Loops Timmy was launching all over our color-coordinated avocado-green kitchen. Then suddenly *poof*, our boy just disappeared into thin air – or more specifically, he disappeared into that box of Froot Loops. We weren’t laughing anymore. The thin air became thick with tension. The missus and I were beside ourselves. Actually we were beside each other, but that’s beside the point in expressing just how concerned we were by Timmy’s sudden disappearance.

I can understand how a flux in the space-time continuum might populate in an area located near one of those New Age cereals made from ancient grains like amaranth or quinoa. Those grains are imbued with divine Gaia power, capable of germinating on-demand ethereal splendor. So, from our perspective associating supernatural flux anomalies with ancient grains makes total sense. Mrs. Cratchit and I get that.

But for a portal to another dimension to generate inside an over-the-counter box of empty-calorie Froot Loops makes no sense at all. Froot Loops shouldn’t possess this kind of mojo. Kellogg’s simply doesn’t have the capacity to produce that level of cereal chemistry. How could these highly processed loops of faux froot, laden with high fructose corn-syrup spawn any kind of aperture in the mesh of space-time? A sugar rush maybe, but an interdimensional portal to a parallel universe – No way. Then we realized – it was Froot Loops, so maybe there was some kind of loop-hole. Anyway, that’s how our Timmy was absorbed by a flux anomaly in the space-time continuum.

We called 9-1-1 immediately. Here’s a transcript of the event:

Dispatcher:         If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 9-1-1.

Mr. Cratchit:        What? This is an emergency. That’s why I dialed 9-1-1.

Dispatcher:         Right. Sorry. I also work at an afterhours dental office and sometimes I get my scripts mixed-up. Please go ahead.

Mr. Cratchit:        Come quickly. It’s our 6 year-old son Timmy. He’s vanished into a box of Froot Loops.

Dispatcher:         OK. Calm down and let me ask you a question.

Mr. Cratchit:        Alright, but hurry.

Dispatcher:         At the time of the disappearance was he looking for the Batmobile?

Mr. Cratchit:        (Dumbfounded) Yeah, but how did you know that?

Dispatcher:         I also have a 6 year-old. And I thought he was going to disappear right into the box too when he was digging for the Batmobile. He looked just like a little prairie dog before he surfaced with the toy.   

Mr. Cratchit:        Yes. Yes. He wanted the Batmobile too, but now he’s gone. Please send help.

Dispatcher:         Let’s give it a few minutes. If he doesn’t show up I’ll call someone for you.

Mr. Cratchit:        Who you gonna call?

Dispatcher:         Ghostbusters.

After 5 frantic WTF minutes, little Timmy rematerialized, looking like Woody Allen did after he exited the orgasmatron in the movie Sleeper. Timmy was rapturously grinning and claimed to have learned his life lesson.

“What lesson was that son,” Mr. Cratchit asked the dazed boy?

Timmy vowed to treat his father with greater generosity and consideration. In fact he vowed to treat all his employees at the Counting House with greater care.

When Mr. Cratchit reminded the boy that, “No one works for you son. There is no Counting House. You’re 6,” tiny Tim merely waved him off and requested that, in the future, he’d prefer to be called Ebenezer. Clearly something strange and wonderful was happening amongst those sugary ellipsoids.  

Copycat Discoveries? – Not Exactly

Officials (officials of what, is not clear) are at a loss to explain the subsequent discovery of other portals to parallel universes. They’ve been found in such disparate places as the Log Ride at Dollywood, a janitor’s closet at Pipe Fitters Local 350 in Reno, and most surprisingly at that Nigerian Prince’s compound in Lagos – y’know the Prince that’s always scamming for a temporary loan so he can send you money.

The discovery of these portals is the greatest thing to happen on Earth ever – more useful than cup holders and better than pumpkin spice anything. It is widely known that Pumpkin Spice does not exist in Space-Time, but it does exist in Spice-Thyme. Space-Time however is where these easily accessible portals allow any entity with a consciousness more advanced than a telemarketer to pass through and become illuminated. It’s like a shower, but for your soul.

There’s also an App for achieving this level of illumination, but it works in a very confusing and roundabout way. Users complain that sometimes it freezes up, just when you need it most. The App is called Religion and usually rates about 1½ stars.

God Is a Pre-Existing Condition and Yes, You’re Covered

These portals are so popular that Disney Corporation is building a parallel theme park to these parallel universes called Portals of the Caribbean. They admit it’s only a substitute for the real thing. So instead of having a very deep experience, Portals of the Caribbean provides a very Depp experience.

Can’t Explain It and Loathe to Admit It But…

Although the potential for merging with the Godhead is possible by entering these portals and suffusing one’s self in abundant awareness, I’m drawn to an aberrant aspect of these portals that is of infinitesimal importance and of needless distraction. For reasons unknown to me, my probation officer or my life coach, I’m fixated on something I’m ashamed to mention – and no, it has nothing to do with binge-watching Hogan’s Heroes. My bete noire or affliction is that I’m unaccountably focused on how board games are altered once they’ve crossed over the membrane of these portals and into the ecstatic universes of unEnglishable expression. So yeah, I can’t explain it and I am loathe to admit it, but how else can I move on except to work through it (at least that’s the advice my life coach gave me). 

I mean omniscience, transcendent awareness and palpable serenity is great and everything, and I’m grateful to visit the places where God’s breath obliterates the stain of Ego, but what I’m really concerned about is rather mundane and narrow. It’s my board game fixation that keeps me riveted to this plane (of consciousness, not the airborne kind). My discomfiture stems from worry over how board games will be transformed once they’ve passed through these portals? Why I should care how everyday board games will be affected by passing through transcendent paradigm-shattering portals and into heavenly galaxies is beyond me, but until this trivial concern is allayed, I’m stuck here in a trivial pursuit.

My Concerns More Specifically

Now that these newly discovered portals will render entering the Kingdom of Heaven easier than ordering an Uber Eats GrandSlam Breakfast from Denny’s, I wonder if it will still be fun playing Trivial Pursuit in the new, more easily accessed dimensions. Or will Trivial Pursuit now become fussily self-important when played in the empyrean vault of the Almighty. More specifically, will Trivial Pursuit now become Consequential Pursuit? If this is the cost of self-awareness, then count me out. If these portals are the ruination of board games then we don’t need any on-demand passageways to parallel universes. What we need is the ability to purchase Star Wars Monopoly, Soprano’s Trivial Pursuit and Hi-Q in their original, unadulterated form. 

Those traditional games provide the kind of experiential outlet that moves my spiritual needle far greater than some unEnglishable deeper reality whose immutable splendor is capable of dissolving all quandaries as it blossoms exquisite flowers whose godly perfume you can not only smell, but can taste, see and feel.

So what. I admit it freely. I like to keep a little primitive board game action for myself, right here in the little hamlet we call Earth. A place located just off the Andromeda Galaxy in an opaque little quadrant we call the Milky Way. Do not snicker at the Milky Way for this Candy Land is our home – at least for now:

The following is sung to the tune of “This Land is Your Land”

♫ Candy Land is your land

Candy Land is my land

From the Rings of Saturn, to the Constellations

From Halley’s Comet, to the Little Di-ip-per

Candy Land was made for you and me. ♫   

So as I continue to think small in a big multiverse, I’d like to share with you the research I’ve already done in cataloguing the differences in board games as they slither into the higher realms and begin to lose their trademark egos while merging with God – perhaps not merging so much as at least remembering that they were never separated from God in the first place even though they may have confused their shrink-wrapped packaging as some kind of barrier to eternal magnificence.

And as my interests are local and my research interstellar, you’ll find posted below what has become of some of our favorite board games as they now reside in the bosom of our Lord where they manifest a different kind of cool excitement. I hope you find this list a worthy guideline as we all walk each other back home from whence we came. I’ve listed first the new name of the board game as it operates in the newly accessible multiverse and then a description of its progenitor or source code as we’re familiar with it here on Earth.

Board Games of a Greater God?

What hath Milton Bradley wrought?

New Name of Board Game – Original Name of Board Game

1. PahJong – It’s a hillbilly version of Mahjong
2. Squeegee Board – A squeaky clean version of a Ouija Board
3. I’m Knocked Up! – It’s what can happen if you play “Kerplunk” without condoms
4. Frontgammon – Compared to Backgammon, you won’t know whether you’re coming or going.
5. Bacon to Bacon – The carnivore’s answer to “Apples to Apples”
6. The Completely Stuffed Rhino – A gluttonous take on Hungry, Hungry Hippos
7. Angry Turds – This is what happens when Angry Birds eat from a Taco Bell dumpster
8. Hell No! You Pick’em Up – It’s what became of “Pick Up Sticks” when it crossed over
9. Cylinder of Gibbons – Barrel of Monkeys on this side of the divide
10. Funyuns and Flagons – A gastronomic take on Dungeons and Dragons
11. Tina Fey is Available – Not a board game. Probably not even true. I bet she’s booked. Life can be so random and yet it all fits together.
12. Bradley Milton meets Milton Bradley – Oddly enough, this Milton Bradley game is manufactured by Hasbro.
13. Keebler Elves in a Lipstick Lesbian Habitat – Yeah, you wish. This ain’t no board game, but I’ve seen video of it and it’s very confusing. At least the website gives out free cookies.
14. And the Horse You Came in On – A more hostile reworking of “Sorry!”
15. Please Redistribute My Income – It’s what happens to Monopoly as you move towards God. Who knew he was a Socialist
16. The Game of Death – Not what you think. Who needs the Game of Life when you’re no longer living in time? Features Overlords, Undertakers and plenty of midwives.
17. Braille Pictionary – Who doesn’t like fondling hastily drawn pictures
18. Dinghies with SuperSoakers – The pacifists answer to Battleship
19. Twister – It remains Twister in the Parallel Universe. It’s twisted enough
20. I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter – Not a board game. I just like saying, “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter.”
21. I Know We’re Going About This the Wrong Way, But… – From the Makers of “Make America Great Again”
22. Please Secure the Legumes – If you like “Don’t Spill the Beans”, You’ll now love this more grammatically correct version
23. Scat Illogical – From the makers of Scattergories, it is advised you bring your own stool and plug your nose
24. I Can Finally Afford My Operation – A truthful look at “Operation.” Due to a kink in the space-time continuum, it now features both pre-existing and post-existing conditions
25. Dinghy – a poor man’s version of Yachtzee (and yes I know it’s spelled Yahtzee). But I ain’t gonna let one letter get in the way of a perfectly good joke.
26. Damn, I’ve Got Diabetes – If you play Candy Land too long this is your fate
27. Reward – Why would anyone play Risk when they can play Reward

Where the Author Pretends to Come to a Conclusion to Satisfy the Human Need for Closure

Until this board game situation is straightened out, I’m in straitened circumstances. Until they’re reconciled, I’m a wreck inside. Until they’re clarified and renewed, I’m terrified and am nude. So although God beckons with this newfound and elegant entryway to enchantment (or Stairways to Heaven as Zeppelin fans call them), I’m waiting it out till my board game affliction is resolved.

Maybe I’ll never resolve my neurotic reactions. Maybe I’ll just surrender them back to the universe in the same way they came to me. After all, I don’t own them. They choose to hang around me and I merely provide a hospitable environment.

That’s why I like these portals so much. Because I’m completed there. I’m a part of everything and even though I can’t ever express the pervasively exquisite atmosphere in this realm (it is truly unEnglishable), those who’ve visited understand what I’m pointing too. Meanwhile, returning to this world is such a bitch. When I do come back, I slowly revert to the usual ego-drenched me again – wondering why I feel alienated or caught up in some grievance. These easily accessible portals solve all that and naturally obliterate what I thought was me. If you’re not getting this, don’t worry about it. I only channel it occasionally or when I’m in the portal. These descriptions are just the Englishable side of things – mere words indicative of transcendence, but paling in comparison to the actual experience.

That’s why I encourage you to visit these portals so you can stifle your querulous mind and tune into your elusive essence. It ain’t easy and yet it is. This is not a paradigm shift. It’s a paradigm obliteration and it’s replaced with an indescribably fertile envelopment from which all concepts are born… ish. You will be overawed and caught in a loop of wonderment for a while until you (or what’s left of what you think you are) say, “Oh yeah, I forgot about this. Well, no biggie.”  

Remember, you’re not getting anything you don’t already have. Spiritual “progress” is not a reward for good behavior. It just is, there…for the assumption. Again, these direct experience portals allow any consciousness, greater than that of a telemarketer, a simple, non-dogmatic and irreligious pathway directly to God. You heard it right folks. A direct portal to the Godhead whenever you choose. I mean, as long as you haven’t neglected your student loans and your attachment to all this earthly stuff is, if not surrendered, at least in storage. Our most sunny hopes are affirmed in ways we never imagined.

This is not some bored game we play with great reluctance. It’s a board game we play with gusto and verve. And if Gusto and Verve aren’t available, try the Terwilligers down the street. They’re usually up for a game. So sit back, relax and enjoy playing The Game of Life. It’s all house money anyway. What have you got to lose.

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