The odd life of Doctor Strange

Doctor Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist

FORWARD
and Acknowledgments

As Dr. Strange's long-standing assistant and aid, I have had the dubious honor of transcribing, typing, editing, spreadsheeting, photoshopping and Richter scaling the Good Doctor's life and career thus far.

He has bestowed an additional dubious honor upon me, as he insists I introduce myself first.

"You're only as good as the the help you hire, damnit!" ~Dr. Strange

I was born in Woodstock New York in 1969. I had a confusing childhood. I remember little. In spite of the many obstacles before me, I was accepted and attended Georgetown University.

It was there, after I was warned by numerous attractive young co-eds to avoid him, I met and began my career as Dr. Strange's only "sane" link to Society at large.

Ms. Constance Paine
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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part I

Hello my fellow weirdlings.

I have decided to tell all of my twisted, demented and wonderful friends out there, who have asked to know a little bit about the man (or, The Doctor) behind your bizarre questions, queries, uncertainties, doubts and problems. I'll start by introducing myself and give you all some background on, well . . . ME!!!

I was born in a stocking factory in 1923. My mother, maiden name Polly Esther Panz, bless her soul, worked right through pregnancy and popped me out in the employee lounge, while eating biscuits and chain-smoking Cuban cigars. My father Harri Strange was an accomplished rodeo star. I still remember the first time I saw him ride that ostrich. I never realized just how mean they can get. It was in the 10th Annual World Champion Ostrich Rodeo in Perth, Australia that my father got hurt. There were three favorites and my father was one. The long money was on him, because the ostrich he picked to ride was a known man-eater. The vicious beast left him trampled almost to death. It was the end of his rodeo career. Mother and father decided on mission work. It was then, I found myself in the deepest darkest part of Africa.

While there, we were kidnapped by a cannibalistic tribe called the Lectorumbas who lived in the northern Congo. They took us to their village and right in front of my eyes, the Lectorumbas ceremonially boiled mother and father alive. It was the most delicious meal I’ve ever eaten. I still have their shrunken heads on my mantel. After the feast, the Lectorumbas took me in as if one of their own. I learned much about the jungle and the predators that come out at night. I should take this opportunity to warn you to never...I repeat, NEVER try to kiss a blind cobra. If it wasn't for the quick work of Takunu the village witchdoctor, I might have not survived. Unfortunately, Takunu was not as lucky...sucking poison from a cobra bite is apparently lethal when you have chapped lips.

It was also very apparent that I had some adverse reactions to the fruits of the jungle. Due to my over zealous flatulence, one night I was sleeping too close to the fire under my straw hut. The entire village went up in flames. It was then, at age 10, I was sent away to live with my aunt Rita.

My aunt Rita was mother’s sister and married General William Book II. We lived on a large farm estate outside of Westminster, England. The general was a cold man with no time for a young boy looking for a father figure. I was instructed to speak only when spoken to. The general was an unusual fellow...maybe even a bit odd. He had his morning ritual of jogging naked around the entire property. The General had an impressive stable of female thoroughbred horses; his favorite was a brown chestnut named Lilly. Late at night I would creep down to the stables and watch the General and Lilly in the throws of passion. Lilly gave birth to a colt a year later, but no one knows what happened to the poor thing.

After a few years, the General was off to the war on September 2nd 1939. On September 6th 1939 we received word the general was killed in combat. It was not until just 5 years ago I discovered the general was caught sleeping with a US colonel’s wife. The colonel, apparently insane with jealousy, placed an armed hand grenade in the General’s rectum. Needless to say, the grenade went off and so did the General.

In December 1939, I was sent to live with my grandfather Harri Strange Senior in Washington D.C. I was 16 years old. My grandfather was a kindhearted man and one of the most ingenious people you could have ever met. My grandfather quickly took me under his wing and before I knew it I was working right along side of him. Grandfather had his PhD in general science from Harvard, with two honorary doctorates from Yale (Chemistry) and Oxford (Medicine with a speciality in Proctology). Being a great inventor/scientist in his own right, my grandfather worked from home, in his own laboratory, on top-secret projects for the US Military. Since then, many of these projects have been declassified.

For the next two years, my grandfather was constantly called to the War Room of the Pentagon up the street from where we lived. It was a really bad neighborhood. For the first month or two, I tried public schools. I got beat up on the way to school, after second period, during lunch, and after school. I complained to the Principal. I didn’t feel it was right that it was only the girls at school that were beating me, since they fight dirty. She chose to ignore my pleas for help. My grandfather had to remove me for “obscene vandalism” performed in the Principal’s office by your’s truly. (Let me know if you’re weird enough to ask me what I did to her...)

In spite of these burdens and many others on his time, my grandfather took immediately to home schooling me. Everyday, three hours were spent in lecture or lab and the rest of the 21 hours for study. He was tough, I had to do a lot of catnapping! Even when I waxed his car, he had me studying. That time I painted the house is when I grasped the concept of relativity. In no time, I was studying medicine, engineering and chemistry at the graduate level. By the time I’d landscaped the garden, built a bomb shelter and a new lab for my grandfather, he sent me to Georgetown University where I took and passed my doctorate exams.

I received special student interest accommodation in physical forensic science, of course. I decided to take one exam each in medicine, biology, chemistry, quantum physics and fine arts (with an emphasis on 19th century Russian Ballet). I did nothing but sleep for the next seven months.

Then the unthinkable happened: December 7, 1941.

I will continue in the next few days, please post any questions you have.

Your friend Dr. Strange

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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part Deux


Hello My Twisted Dementees, I'm back. Read on about Me! Dr. Strange, it only gets stranger!

Now, where was I? Oh yes, 1941 the Japanese attacked our blessed shores.

One mission that’s been declassified since then, I will share with my fellow Weirdlings. My grandfather was assigned to Roswell, New Mexico, two days after Pearl Harbor was bombed. There was a top-secret scientific research station now run by the military in the middle the desert. I accompanied my grandfather at his request. The place was enormous and scary. Sleeping there at night was near impossible. Weird green lights and things (or were they very small people?) were constantly in and out of my bedroom windows. I developed an alarming outburst of hemorrhoids while there. I digress, back to the mission.

The word from the top brass was that Japan was indeed planning another attack. This time on the entire West Coast of the United States, from Seattle Washington to Tijuana Mexico. I took my grandfather aside and proposed a plan. Pleased with my proposal, my grandfather spoke to the local high command. It didn’t go over very well. Then, a General close to the President, and grandfather’s old standing friend, General Quentin Rozzbury, mentioned our mission to the President. The next thing we knew, my grandfather and I were ordered to carry out the plan. I was ready, my Weirdlings, I was pissed-off and I played dirty!

We knew they were planning to strike at night. If they decided to change their minds and fly by day, our plan of defense would fail completely, since we had no backup. I kept my fingers crossed. First, we designed the huge projectors in the lab. Then, we set about placing hundreds of the projectors up the coast from North to South. Once in place, the images we chose (I'll tell you about those in a second) had to be of a certain transparent film. A Japanese translator in the White House was trusted to relay the deadly message which would appear beneath the images. We did as many test runs as time would allow and everything looked a-okay.

We returned to the military operation center in Roswell. It was April 9, 1942, and at 19 hundred, thirty hours, radio reports from the front said that they could hear the engines of enemy fighter planes. The hundreds of troops stationed at the projectors were standing ready. We're still not sure of the final count, but we believed approximately 25 flyers were headed towards us. From land, within range of each flyer, the projectors were engaged. Twenty-five images of individual naked Japanese women, performing unspeakable sexual acts were shown, with the subtitle, “US Intelligence has identified this person as your mother.”

We were pleased and startled by the results. At first the flyers seemed confused, steering off course and almost hitting one another. Then reports came in that the Japanese fighter planes nosed-dived into the water, deliberately crashed into each other and one plane crashed outside a rural town of Tijuana. Reportedly, the pilot survived the crash. He leaped out of the plane with swords in hand. He slowly and ceremoniously disemboweled himself in front of a small group of Mexican orange pickers who had gathered at the crash site.

Dr. Strange and Dr. Strange returned to Washington as heroes. I was eighteen and I felt it was time that I was on my own. My grandfather grudgingly agreed, and I went to work as lead weapons specialist for the entire US Military and advisor to President Roosevelt. I even met Sir Winston Churchill once. He was a great man, but privately he had the annoying habit of picking inside his nose. Well, more like digging. I noticed everyone around ignored his behavior, so did I.

In no time, I found a room with a full bath to let in the back of a supper club for gentlemen. I Iiked living there except for the constant grunting and continual banging against the far wall of my room. My lab was located nearby the Pentagon, off a small street and down an old alleyway. This was a clever way of protecting scientists and certain military personnel from surprise attack.

Although I spent much of my time in my new lab, working on more exciting weapons to develop and really nasty ways of warding off the enemy, I found myself lonely most of the time. You must realize; I was still a virgin. But not for long . . .

'Til Next Time my little Twistees, Yours, Dr. Strange
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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part III

Dr. Strange Continues in his Quest to Save America!

Hello, my fellow Wierdlings. I’m pleased to be back with some of my favorite, perhaps more twisted and demented missions during wartime.

By late 1942, things were really heating up over in Europe. The US needed a plan to obliterate the Nazi U-Boats off American shores. Since I was so successful foiling the Japanese attack last year, the Military put me on the case. The Germans were infiltrating us by getting close enough to land, under the cover of night, they’d pop out and swim ashore. Once here they’d pose as average Americans. They’d gather information, return to their boats and then relay their sensitive information to the German High Command.

Military Intelligence had information that there were German U-Boats in the Atlantic. German spies were landing in and out of obscure places, such as Ocracoke Island. There, 16 miles of deserted, undeveloped beaches, was accessible only by ferry, private boat or plane. German U-Boats found it very convenient. Located at the southern most tip of North Carolina, it attracted nearly all the U-Boat fleet at one time or another.

Those Nazi U-Boat boys couldn’t get enough of the place. While Nazi spies where out in the field the rest of the boys partied on the island. Even by this time, there were half-German toddlers romping around. The entire population of Ocracoke, a total of 200 people, can trace its beginnings to one set of parents, a brother and sister. The island, left virtually deserted for generations, boasts the most deformed individuals per capita of any population known. Well, there is Hamm, located in southern England, which is down the road from the hamlet of Cheese. Over there they are so interbred that they all have pointed heads. But on the island, deformities usually take the form of a tiny head (the size of a baseball) and huge, tall muscular bodies. Very weird and very lovely to see.

Sorry, back to Ocracoke and the Nazis. Yes. I had to formulate a nasty and deadly plan and then locate the spies so that I could carry out my revenge. I sought out two British scientists, Howard Florey and Norman Heatley. They brought penicillin to the US. I figured if they had the cure, I’d ask them if they would be so kind as to loan me their fungal cultures. They asked why. I explained that they didn’t have high enough clearance for that information. I had an affair with Norman’s wife, she told me that she had a way of whipping Norman into shape and that I shouldn’t worry if I need him to assist me.

Norman and I worked together formulating a defense against the Nazi U-Boat’s spies infesting the shores of this glorious country. I had to think fast and work faster. I used Norman’s contaminated cultures to integrate into a highly contagious serum that can be injected almost anywhere on the body. Once a carrier is injected and comes into contact with a healthy male person, the airborne virus then locates and mercilessly attacks the male genitals. Since the German U-Boats were literally “manned,” it was an ingenious plan of attack.

I used countless rats, hamsters, rabbits and other species in my attempt. I used Norman’s cultures and known male hormones in my mix. I added a highly contagious genital rash sample I happened to have frozen. The results were astonishing. Once injected, the male animals would enter the cage and in no time their entire penises fell off. Their testicles swelled to double their body weight. The females were unaffected.

We worked around the clock, except when Norman’s wife would call me back to the bedroom. It made my job doubly hard and doubly dangerous. I got a call from the War Room and Intelligence had just confirmed 20 U-Boats dangerously close to Ocracoke Island. It was time to move.

I left Norman and his wife back in Washington, so that he could produce more serum, if necessary and record results. I arrived with two Marines on Ocracoke Island on Tuesday, November 14, 1942. Because of the presence of German spies, the three of us posed as female nurses. Since we had to unload medical supplies, we decided this was the best cover. We set up a medical tent in the middle of the largest village there. Soon, the locals, curious about the sizes of our heads, the color of our lipstick and our nylons, began to get less shy.

Then a couple of men came into the medical tent. They weren’t from the island because their heads where pointed. I knew immediately, their intelligence was faulty -- they were Germans. They began flirting with us. They asked us who we were. We told them we were Canadian Medical Mounted Calvary on a mission of mercy. They bought it. We told them we did our research and warned them against, “Island Crud”, Malaria, and the possibly deadly “Ocracoke Fish Rash.” My whole plan worked like a charm. Both Nazis anxiously extended their arms for my “inoculation.” Over the next few days after word of the deadly Fish Rash got around, we believe every Nazi on the island was infected. That was enough to infestate and put a screeching halt to the Germans in the Atlantic and on our beloved shores.

More next post my Freaky Friends. My work calls
I will post again soon. I’m watching all of you anyway . . .

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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part IV

Hello my Twisted Friends!
I’m back to tell you all about myself, my twisted crusades, bizarre experiments and my scientific revelations in Africa.

By 1944, the Defense Department wanted me 24 hours a day, seven days a week. I must admit I was proud of how I was able to defend our shores against the Japanese bombers. I chose to foil them honorably. As far as the Germans landing on our shores (see CV of a Mad Scientist, Part 3 for details) well, I did use a “biological weapon,” but we needed to stop these maniacs. At least that’s what they kept telling me. I eventually had my first psychotic episode.

I knew what I had to do. I packed my bags and headed back to the Congo. I found the Lectorumba’s village. If you recall, I suffered terrible flatulence due the fruits in the area and burned the village one night sleeping too close to my fire. I sought out the Medicine Man and begged his forgiveness for my faux pas. He knew who I was, but he was confused. He told me that since I’d left, I had been publicly declared “The Fire Lord.” I walked into the village and saw why. Apparently, the government gave the tribe emergency funds after the devastation I left. The funds that the Congolese government gave the Lectorumbas were supposed to be for a new resort nearby. The resort mistakenly received $300.00 instead. The entire Lectorumba village resembled a Club Med. Thankfully, the government had also placed restrictions on the Tribe’s human consumption. I, of course, would not know what goes on in private.

The Medicine Man, Kurok, found me to be quite mad. I was welcomed with great ceremony and then put in a small, but well-run hospital. Kurok instructed me to drink a small tube of serum every four hours. Kurok’s mixture was pure Lysergic Acid Diethylamide, Mescaline and an Arylcyclohexylamine (PCP) and, of course, a touch of Psilocybin. I was there for three months. The treatment was highly effective. I kept my own notes, but I can’t decipher them now.

We wandered the jungles and lingered at the shores, all the while Kurok lectured me. He showed me that there is more than one reality at a time. I was highly dosed and I couldn’t have agreed more. I saw and experienced things that I cannot describe in words. I traveled, out of my body, every night. Kurok also told me that in many Congolese languages, the name of the Creator God derives from the word father or maker. Some groups regard the creator being “all around,” whilst others believe the god lives in the sky. Even the laws of quantum physics dictates that for every person and event, there are endless numbers of parallel realities occurring simultaneously through the space/time continuum. The connection was complete.

The thought that there may be millions of “versions” of myself in alternative realities, everywhere in the universe at the same moment, captured my imagination and set me on a path of great exploration and discovery.

At that moment, I realized my quest: The investigation and eventual proof of parallel universes.

Thread in next time for my incredible journey. 'Til then, yours, Dr. Strange

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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part V


Exploration of Parallel Universes (Part One)

Keep in mind, my Twisted Ones, that is the First Chapter of my research in parallel universes, and everything you're about to read here seems impossible and insane, beyond science fiction. Yet, it's all true.

I returned to Washington after my recuperation in the Congo. Grandfather was in a frail state. It was touch and go there for a while until I hired a young, blond and busty nurse, Bunny Van Corsett, RN to tend to his needs. Within weeks, we began to see improvement. Grandfather lived another ten plus years. I was ready to investigate and find parallel universes. The lab downstairs hadn’t been used in ages. I found it in perfect condition.

The mathematical equation I used was only an approximation and depended on certain conditions. The risk is extremely high to the researcher. One small slip of the wrist and one could end up as a marsupial in the Mesazoic Era. I considered two important factors in the search for parallel universes. First, the study of altered states of awareness, such as schizophrenia, and lucid dreaming. These states are considered indications of the closeness of parallel worlds to our own. Second, gravity is just a weak signal leaking out of another universe into ours. I made a few modifications to Grandfather’s lab, which included huge canisters in which gravity could be altered. I worked with basic circuits and tubes in those days, primitive, really, but I was able to emit huge graviton particles in an effort to break through and into the other realities. I was ready.

I dosed myself with Kurok’s mixture that I brought back from the Congo. Then I entered the cramped canister and set the gravity pressure to maximum. I waited. And waited. I fell asleep.

Once I awoke, I was in bed. But I wasn’t in Washington anymore. I was at my Uncle’s estate in England, it was my old bedroom there. The only difference was, there was two extremely young gorgeous women in bed with me. I woke them and asked what was going on. They were offended. I told them I must have become heavily intoxicated the night before and asked them to refresh my memory. Apparently, in this timeline, I had inherited my Uncle’s estate and I was extremely wealthy. The two women, Ulga and Pinsy where “friends” of mine. I had no idea alternate universes could be so amazing. Just as the girls began to pleasure me, I heard my name being called from a distant place. I ignored it. Then, I looked up, and the far wall of the bedroom gave way to a huge crack through which brilliant white light poured in. I felt a huge sensation of powerful suction, unfortunately, it was not one of my bedmates.

I found myself on the floor of Grandfather’s lab. Bunny was frantically resusitating me. Apparently, she believed I'd gone missing and she searched the house and then went down to the lab. She found the cannister and slowly decompressed it. I wanted to get angry with her, but she was only concerned for my well-being. My first thought, was how to get back. Now. Bunny put me to bed, however as I was completely exhausted.

I had done it. Complete success. I documented my findings and published my paper. The entire scientific world dismissed my findings, those bastards. I took my findings to the one man I knew would have faith in me, my Grandfather. With his clout, Grandfather assisted me by setting up the Institute for Parallel Universe Research (IPU), in a wing of Georgetown University.

My new lab looked like a space center, once the University was through with my specs. My dinky gravity canisters were soon replaced with huge vacuum rooms that went from zero G to very high gravity frequencies in seconds. Back in 1950, that was something to see. Working with that type of pressure, makes preventing bends paramount. The bends, or decompression sickness (DCS) can occur whenever the external pressure drops too quickly, causing the nitrogen normally absorbed in the blood to literally bubble out. I was lucky with my first experiment. We wanted to keep everything a bit more neat, and I had a crew of talented graduate physics students. They were young, and they were eager to please.

I had the eyes of the scientific world watching my every move. The pressure was incredible. Kurok flew from the Congo to be at my side. He also very much liked the ladies in America. Of course, they loved him. I let Kurok party, because I knew he was the model of discipline. He was with me for every experiment. He possessed keen observation skills and an unworldly ability to solve problems by literally suspending scientific and mathematical laws. With his help, the impossible became possible.

The Institute of Parallel Universes (IPU) was going to succeed. We began setting up for final run on May 2, 1950. I was ready to go back to England and pick up where I'd left off with Ulga and Pinsy.

The next months and years proved to be pivotal in scientific and human history.

Visit for my next post and follow my adventures.
Sorry, I believe it is time for my dinner. Yours twistedly, Dr. Strange
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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part VI


EXPLORATION OF PARALLEL UNIVERSES, PART TWO
Greetings to my bizarre friends. I'm back with more adventures of mine! It's been a while so . . . ah yes, I was telling all of you about the beginnings of IPU in the early 1950's. Read on, I'm sure you'll agree they are anything if not strange. My new lab was located in a building off the Mathematics Chemistry and Physics Wing at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. The actual structure was small, the building was originally meant to store all the school’s athletic equipment. It was more like a large, heavy aluminum structure. As it turned out, we didn’t need much space. The Grav Bed, as we came to call it, or POD (Point of Divergence), was a coffin-shaped hull, in which the experimenter lies and conducts observations. Placed in the far corner of the interior, it took up little space.

Since my Grandfather gave the university a ridiculous amount of money, my laboratory was so well equipped, that many of the “high-tech” research tools confounded both Grandfather and me. As a result, we didn't use them. The assistance was not so forthcoming. I waited two months until the Physics Department finally granted me two graduate students as credited members of IPU. My assistants were brilliant graduate students of Physics, but overlooked by the scientific community. What did they know? The University’s loss was my miraculous gain. Martin Sudsbury-Chamberlain, a British student was brilliant at 23 years-old; he was already known as a child prodigy. Due to his severe affliction of Turrets Syndrome, however his own fellow classmates voted him off the campus and undergo his studies in private quarters. Jackson Jackson, was on full scholarship, unusual those days for “colored people,” and he suffered the prejudices of the time. Originally, from the Bronx, he was brought up in foster homes and had seen his fill of trouble. Nonetheless, he was a uniquely keen scientist, at times – almost scary. Einstein and his crew wanted Jackson for their project over at Princeton. Jackson stayed with me, even though the IPU lab smelled, at times, like the fermentation of a century’s long storage of men’s athletic private wear.

UPI was located on a remote area of the campus. It was probably for the best. Kurok often arrived at the lab in full headdress and tribal face paint. That and Martin’s shrill obscenities made us an odd lot. On May 2, 1950, IPU conducted our first documented research and location of possible parallel universes. After months of preparation, myself, Martin, Jackson and Kurok were ready. I entered the Grav Bed, dosed with Kurok’s serum. Since hyperspace and dark matter led us to realize that the three dimensions we thought described the Universe simply weren't enough. We came to the conclusion that here are actually 11 dimensions. By the time we had finished, we discovered that our Universe is just one bubble among an infinite number of membranous bubbles, which ripple as they wobble through the eleven dimensions.

Now imagine what might happen if two such bubble universes touched. The result? A very big bang indeed and a new universe would be born - our Universe. The idea shocked the scientific community; it turned the then-newly discovered Big Bang theory on its head. It may well be that the Big Bang wasn't really the beginning of everything after all. Time and space all existed before it. In fact, Big Bangs may happen all the time

I held fast to that theory and I had no apprehension upon traveling. Kurok explained to me he had often seen the membranous bubbles, when he engaged in lucid dreaming. He told me that I would always be bound to our Universe by the fact that it is the “bubble” we travel in when journeying the 11 dimensions. As long as no collision occurs, all remains constant and the researcher remains inside his universe, at the same time experiencing the countless others. Kurok warned me that some journeys carried great risk, but my career, my purpose had to be fulfilled. Once the boys sealed me in that morning, I felt uncomfortable. I fluffed it off as the jitters. I could feel the cabin fill with gravity, making my legs heavy, my head heavier.

I had to fight to open my eyes, when I did; I was inside a filthy and stinky jungle prison. I was fully awake. I looked around terrified, I asked a fellow next to me where I was. He looked at me and mumbled something. He told me we were in a Japanese prison camp. He rolled his eyes. Then, he explained we were fed gruel, treated like pigs and used for sexual scientific research. He asked me why I couldn’t remember, since I’d been asking for years. But, naturally, how could I remember? The hysterical laughter of some of our captors caught my attention. A group of Japanese soldiers passed by one of our transparencies of a naked Japanese woman with a dildo on a horse’s saddle. Apparently, in this timeline, my idea of foiling the bomber pilots had failed. Miserably. These guys were sincerely hooting it up.

I seemed to lose consciousness for a time. When I was grabbed by two of my captors, I was startled and alarmed. They took me to a local hospital; I was blindfolded for the short jeep drive there. I entered and was put into a brightly lit room. In the middle sat a large medical examination table and in two walls opposite to one another were huge observation windows. Behind each of them there appeared to be dozens of scientists. I looked down and I was stripped naked. Two men appeared, led me to the table and strapped me down. One of the scientists spoke English through an intercom. Dr. Takakura, who apparently "knew" me, very calmly explained that it was time for my medical examination to determine what made me different from Asian physiology. They were especially interested in my penis. I was poked and prodded.

The scientists released my restraints and then left the room. They had injected me with a drug that caused me a massive erection. They placed a lamb in the room and watched me. I asked what they were doing. Dr. Takakura then had the lamb taken away and brought in a naked young man. I screamed bloody murder at them. Then an exquisite young and very beautiful girl was presented to me. The drugs they gave me kicked in. I threw her on the medical table and just as I was going to give Takakura what he wanted, everything went black. I mean to say, black as in some sort of abyss. I was falling and all around me was an endless black void. Then I saw the POD, bright white light; I was on my way back.

When I opened my eyes, the team had the Grav Bed open and pleased looks and praise was there to welcome me back. Not unlike my former journey, this one had ended at a most inconvient time. Martin and Jackson couldn’t wait for my formal findings. The lads were so happy I hadn’t the heart to say a word. I had to face the fact that when traveling one has little or no control. It is when a POD opens that the researcher must enter or exit. As for me, my Asian-girl fetish lasted for many years to come.

As always, all are welcome to thread-in next time for more! Truly and Unusually yours, Dr. Strange.

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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part VII

Greetings all, from me, Dr. Strange. I would like to take this opportunity to point out the fact that I wasn’t always a dirty old man. After the death of the beloved Albert Einstein, I continued to work tirelessly in my IPU lab. Now, more than ever. Dr. Einstein left this world without truly completing his work regarding the concept of Relatively. I believed I could find answers in the exploration of alternate universes.

I was lecturing out of a small college in Miami, Florida when I met my wife to be, Mia Culpa Eccentrico. She held a degree in Astrophysics from Oxford University and her father was a prominent doctor in Milan Italy. Back in the day, Sofia Loren had nothing on my Mia. The year was 1956. The Central Intelligence Agency, however, had other plans for scientists even like myself. Paranoia was everywhere; the Soviet Union had an arsenal of nuclear weapons, and we were braced for the worst. I was paid extremely large sums of money to do little work. President Dwight D. Eisenhower built the CIA Headquarters Building and put himself in charge. He took to me right away, noting my efforts in the Second World War.

Mia introduced herself to me after my lecture and she and I began a whirlwind romance. Ultimately, Mia was fascinated with the POD experiments. I forbid her to travel. I myself traveled less and less, always leaving all timelines sexually frustrated. When I asked her to marry me, she asked her only favor of me, she wanted to travel one time. How could I refuse such a lovely creature.

My lab had grown enormously by that time, and Dr. Jackson Jackson was primarily responsible for the entire operation of IPU. Jackson had traveled more than any of us. Among his findings were many encounters with alien species. Experiences too bizarre and unbelievable to make up. I brought Mia to the lab and explained to Jack that she wouldn’t require large doses of the hallucinogenic drugs or excessive gravity.

I placed Mia in the Grav Bed and sat with her. I instructed Jack to limit the travel time to five minutes, our time. The body never moves in the POD in our universe. The only way we can track a traveler’s path is through monitoring heart pulse. A device in the POD monitors the inhabitant. Mia began to beat the glass window of the Grav Bed with her fists. I was frantic. Her heart rate skyrocketed. I looked at Jack, who, if he could of, would have gone pale. I ordered him to terminate the run and resuscitate her.

When she awoke, she was dazed and confused. I calmed her down. Mia told me she saw her marriage to me. In time, she explained we became part of a wondering tribe of dirty people who smoked funny cigarettes and listened to ear-splitting music. I assured her that was impossible. She said that there was some sort of invasion of insects. I asked her why, and she told me that all everyone talked about was beetles. We were married that afternoon.

She became Mia Culpa Eccentrico-Strange. We had many wonderful years together and I never will feel that way again. List her as dead . . . no, wait – missing.

I will leave you for now. It seems I must "break in" a new assistant. Until next time my beloved Twisted Ones, I am truly yours, Dr. Strange.

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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part VIII

A New Hope: Welcome to the Present

My Twisted Ones, I have decided to share my some of my CURRENT ADVENTURES with you. I know you are eager to know all about my Illustrious Past and ME. I may be a “fruitcake,” but I love my Country and I protected the Blessed Shores of this Promised Land – more than once.

I promise to pick up where I left off, but I’m too excited about showing all of you my new POD. Got it six months ago. Most of the parts used for this device were confiscated from known terrorist cells. Great stuff, man. I’m having a blast.

I will LOVE to tell you all about the presidents I advised and partied with, my time with NASA, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in California and Cape Canaveral in Florida. The CIA, ATF, DEA and the FBI were forever sticking their noses into our work. Scotland Yard and Interpol, also. Ditching these guys was no easy task, but I had to shake ‘em, or else nothing would have gotten done. So many nasty wars after WWII, and I was the prominent Nasty Scientist working at the time. I made many friends, however. Vladimir, from Russia, Nigel in Britain, Dr. Diaperdaddie from New Delhi – all brilliant in their fields. Shunned by the conventional scientific community, I understood their frustrations.

Friends. Yes! Recently, I spent time in China. I was invited by the Chinese Government to join a medical symposium in Beijing. A surprising invite, since that particular Government has always given me the cold shoulder. My trip there began pleasantly enough; I spoke, of course, on my research of parallel universes. However, I met up with Dr. Ho, a long-time friend, physician and surgeon. I honored him in my speech and I hoped I pissed off those really uptight government fellows.

A graduate with honors from Oxford University, Dr. Ho’s approach to medicine is unusual, I will admit. Ho’s research focuses mainly on reanimation of tissue, living or dead. He was popular for a time in Taiwan, performing “alternate regenerative constructive cosmetic surgery.” He possesses a 5,000 year-old Himalayan mixture that undergoes incantations by Buddhist monks before the good doctor administers it. What I do know about it is, he uses herbs, roots, bulbs and ground deer penis. After a patient is injected with Ho’s mix, he then places them in a reanimation chamber. When I saw his chambers, years ago, they were simply oxygen-rich, tanning beds. His results are real, yet unexplainable. He has been banned from practicing medicine in China for years. Dr. Ho agreed to step down in order to save face. Nevertheless, he had a plan.

The youngest of 17 children, he claims to be 427 years old. I’ve never argued the point with him. Dr. Ho has only lost two patients. One due to an errant blood clot; the other patient’s breast implants exploded unexpectedly while she was in the reanimation chamber. Doctor Ho has brought so much joy to so many patients. Not only has he brought youth, beauty and strength to his patients, he has reanimated thousands of formerly dead pets, regardless their species.

I was invited to his home for dinner, a comfortable house just outside of Beijing. It was then that I learned Dr. Ho’s financing was coming from some questionable sources. To name a few, “The Triads,” “The Chinese Secret Society” and the Japanese criminal group, “Yakusa.” After dinner, Dr. Ho showed me his lab. Remarkable in both innovation and technology, Dr. Ho admitted he owed millions of dollars to his “sponsors.”

It was at that moment, as we stood talking in his pimped-out laboratory that I heard crashing glass. The black presence of death was everywhere, and it informed me that my life was in imminent danger. It was smothering me. I felt a jolt to the back of my neck and everything went fuzzy, fading to black.

When I awoke, I was lying on my side with a rubber ball in mouth, held there with silk ninja rope. I gaped for breath. My ankles were crossed and bound by the same rope. When I tried to move, the rope cut deep into the upper derma layers. Straining against the deadly rope caused deep lacerations and bleeding to death was the punishment for attempting escape. My elbows were tied behind my back. A tightly pulled blindfold blocked all vision. I could hear. And what I was hearing was quite remarkable.

Dr. Ho made no sounds, except each time he would assault an assailant, he’d grunt. I heard crash after crash. Each concussion was followed by screams and some type of Japanese death curse. I feared for my friend’s life, I was no help to Dr. Ho. As soon as it happened it was over. Dr. Ho took off my blindfold and I looked at his face. I suppose my expression amused him, because he burst into an uncontrollable laughing fit. I looked around the lab. Much of Ho’s equipment was damaged, but only because, a ninja collided with it.

They were everywhere. Must have been five or six. Ho walked to a body and bent to pick up its arm. He lifted the sleeve and showed me a tattoo of a tiger. He told me the Triad would be next. I told him this was unacceptable. How can he carry out his research with this kind of nonsense going on? I looked around. They came into the lab from everywhere. I know -- they were on me like lightening. From the look of them, they were highly trained and very deadly individuals. Several had broken necks and the others massive internal injuries.

Guess Ho wasn’t kidding about his money problems. So, I wrote him a check. Tax deductible. I told him I absolutely would not come back and see him if he didn’t pay for the stuff and make new friends. He agreed.

I begged Ho to explain how he wiped out six ninjas. He remained silent. He was busy dragging a ninja corpse toward one of the last working reanimation chambers. Then he told me that if I wish to learn how to take out six or sixteen ninjas, I was free to study with him for a time. I declined. He injected the corpse and threw it into the chamber. He went to work and a half hour later, a living, screaming ninja was in the lab. Ho told him to go and tell everybody they’re paid, but the Ninja declined and choose seppuku instead. The other reanimated Yakusas did the same.

Dr. Ho was so grateful to me for my financial assistance that he has pledged to safeguard my life, even if it means his own death. I was happy to help him out, but I was relieved when my flight lifted off the runway and I was headed back home. As always, I am, Dementedly Yours, Dr. Strange

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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part IX
EXPLORATION OF PARALLEL UNIVERSES, PART THREE

The year was 1955. My wife Mia and I lived in a comfortable house outside of Washington, D.C. in Arlington, Virginia. Life then was abundant and prosperous for many Americans. As a result, people had lots and lots of babies. We were proud parents of twins, Sigmund and Alexander. And they showed extraordinary promise early. At 18 months, the twins were taking apart Mia's washing machine and putting it back together. She was frantic they'd electrocute themselves.

Ridiculous, I'd watched them hundreds of times, not only dismantling the washing machine: Anything mechanical. I'd expect nothing less. I had to let a car from the University, since by age 3, the boys were obsessed with disassembling my Chrysler; its engine, electrical, exhaust systems and all the rest.

We call these kids "baby boomers," now. Complain, complain; it's all they do. None of those kids would have wanted to be born back in the Twenties like me. No sir. They had suburbia; woody station wagons and "Howdy Doody." We were lucky if we got some cold rice and a little rat meat. It began slowly, however, but in a few short years, the Cold War was on. That's what made it so creepy. We were infiltrated by our enemies and one crazy Russian had his finger on the button. My lab was still located at Georgetown University, with Jackson and Martin in permanent residence and Kurok, of course, was on call. He'd bought himself a private plane instead of a new Cadillac.

Average Americans were extremely afraid of the very real threat that at any possible moment -- atomic bombs could hit anywhere in the US. We possessed a labyrinth of underground bomb shelters and a virtual city under the Lab. Heck, the wanting depiction of me in the James Bond movies as a character called "Q" was insulting. Albeit, technologically very accurate; I was the leading Nasty Scientist of my day. IPU tirelessly "invented" nasty technology for cars, people, briefcases, pens and even contact lenses. All devices served as data gathering and many were weapons, as well.

Desperate, the government asked me if I might use my parallel universe studies in an effort to assist them. Imagine that? After years of dismissing my theories and labeling IPU a hoax and me an "8-ball," they changed their tune. Secret agents were everywhere. Spying was the foremost weapon in our war against the evil axis of the USSR, China and Cuba; all were training their arsenals of atomic weapons on our Glorious Country. The US Military furnished me with top secret, classified information -- and it was scary. With a country and family to protect I was already paranoid, however, I only became more so.

IPU was asked by US Intelligence and other Cold War allies if it could assist in "debriefing" former spies. They informed me that the hallucinogenic drugs administered to spies were not working at erasing their memories of their missions as effectively as the military expected. Ha, they needed me now, didn't they? Yes.

However, could I send a spy back in time – to a particular point in his or her life and bring them back clueless of their missions? Entering and exiting universes was still in its infancy and random, to say the least. IPU did have its share of early success with sending subjects, such as Jackson and myself far enough into the future to obtain the very technology brought back and used by us from thirty to forty years in the future. I must admit, over eighty percent of these travels went awry. What they were asking us to do, however, was to go backward in time. I was hesitant.

Our PODs would require intense and precise calibration.

We placed a test subject, in this case, Martin in a POD. Since we'd been creating universes in the lab for the past four years now, that was the easy part. We simply used bursts of gamma rays in an attempt to recreate the amount of energy we believed created the Big Bang. Sure enough, the bursts were powerful enough to open a hole in our bubble Universe, so that our Universe buds into two universes, creating a "baby universe." Since eventually the "baby" universe expands quickly it leaves our Universe and goes on its merry way.

Countless observations, lead us to believe that baby universes slip into any of the 11 dimensions, depending upon which is most appealing to baby. Keeping a subject in the present and at the same time in our universe, while opening another universe, proved extremely tricky.

Martin would literally have to be in two places at once. We monitored Martin in this universe by accessing his unique quantum signature with an early version of an MRI device. This was successful because we could access a POD fluctuation allowing Martin to enter and exit at the precise time we calibrated, according to the data received from the subject's present universe thoughts and memories. The first few test runs went miserably. Martin kept slipping out of the present universe. It was essential that we keep him with us.

It was then Kurok came up with a highly effective plan. We later dubbed it the "Distraction Factor." Kurok brought hot, young female students to the lab. He monitored their brain waves, thought patterns, and hooked up a live, real time feed to Martin's own brain wave patterns. We had the young women view themselves naked in a mirror. Martin, who was receiving this "information," was so completely distracted that he remained in this universe, while simultaneously arriving in the other. We were ready.

My first spy, Margaret, was a real hottie and a British agent working for Interpol. I was confident that while PODs did appear randomly, we ran countless simulations until we were within a 92-percentile rate of success. The military informed us this was acceptable. In Margaret's case, we had to erase a precise time in her life -- the past three months.

We powered up. In a nearby room, we placed Margaret's new husband, Mr. Thatcher in a room and injected him with a drug that induces wild sexual desire. We then connected his brainwaves to Margaret's feed, in order to keep her in this universe, using the Distraction Factor. It worked. Ten minutes later, Margaret emerged from the POD very relaxed and refreshed. Margaret's husband was still wildly masturbating in the adjacent room, but Kurok and Jackson assured me that the drug would wear off in a few hours.

An agent from Scotland Yard questioned her briefly, and seemed quite pleased with our results. She remembered nothing of her mission, only that she had decided to take an extra long honeymoon because, in her own words, her husband simply refused to dislodge himself from her person.

From that point on, IPU became the "debriefing" hub of hundreds of agents worldwide. We had our hands full. Each time we'd erase agents' memories, they'd go back in the field; some would return, many did not...

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Dr. Strange: Curriculum Vitae of a Mad Scientist, Part 10

Good evening, my fellow confidants and friends.

I apologize for the long absence, apparently, I never physically left my home however, I was not present. The lights were off, but someone was home. I’m much better now.

The Cold War had begun and Russia and her allies, our new enemies. A nice young man, John Kennedy became President for a bit, but plans change. It’s a shame, really. At any rate, my team and I still labored debriefing agents for another thirty or so years. Many conspiracy theorists came to IPU asking to be transported to the book depository. Others wanted to go to the grassy knoll at a particular point in time. One lunatic wished to be transported to the moment Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald so he in turn could be shot.

I determined it was time for a break. My wife, Mia and I placed our now 10-year-old sons in an outrageously expensive private school in Switzerland. I do not believe they taught any magic like that stupid Potter movie, and for that money, that is simply ridiculous. That’s the least they could do. Mia and I began to travel, on this planet.

We met many strange and fascinating people all over the world. In 1967, our favorite destination was San Francisco California. I was welcomed by many of the facility of UC Berkeley and Stanford. One professor, Doctor Timothy Leary was most interested in my work, more particularly, in Kurok’s serum.

I contacted Kurok at IPU and told him to get out to California with his recipe. Doctor Leary offered me great sums of money, which Mia begged me to take, so I did. Kurok arrived and met with Leary. I was not present for their initial meeting. I do remember, they were both returned to my residence some ten days later. They were found in the vicinity of Haight and Ashbury Streets living in cardboard boxes.

Relieved that Kurok was safe, I took Dr. Leary into my confidence and my home. Soon Mia and her friends were smoking marijuana on a regular basis, she even took pills. I reminded her she was a wife and a mother. It made little difference. She listened to all sorts of strange rock music. But, constantly to the Beatles and that’s when it hit me. The one time Mia traveled, she arrived at this very place in time.

I rushed to my notes and showed Leary. We arranged to have a POD flown out to California on the University’s dime. Leary always like to operate that way. One evening after the POD had arrived, Dr. Leary and I were tripping really hard. Timothy told Mia that she should be in this time. Kurok got aggravated with the conversation and left the house. But, she argued she was here, in this time. Leary insisted she could not be truly in the moment without traveling to this time in a POD. We laughed at him, but Mia did enter a POD that night.

After I’d passed out, Mia decided to travel to the very moment she already was so that there would be two of her. At least that’s what Leary convinced her. She thought it was a marvelous idea, as she could be with her husband and children at the same time. I was, of course, too late. It seems when Leary did send Mia to the very moment she was already in she simply vanished.

The FBI and I agreed that Mia be listed as missing, since no body existed. It also helped to assure the boys that I would find their mother.

We tried for weeks to get her back. I tried for 35 years. Eventually, my sons urged me to throw out the blow-up doll and find myself a girlfriend with a pulse. Until next time, stay weird.