More Pen Masters Version 9 

Chess by David Nuefeld

I’m playing white and one of my current favorite openings. Known as the King’s Pawn
Opening. I’m met with a Scandinavian Defense, cool, I slither on past, clamping down
on F6.
Breaking one of the opening principles, never move the same piece twice in the
opening. T’was a strategic necessity. What’s more, when tactical opportunities surface,
why not capitalize?
"Rules are like pawns in chess - they're meant to be understood, sometimes sacrificed,
and occasionally used to checkmate!" In this case a lesser evil was committed in effort
to achieve a greater good. After all, I’m out to eat the black king no matter what.
Developing my pieces while taking control of the center, I know my primary objective.
I’m assessing the board in real time. Invariably identifying and updating my strategic
goals.
A dark pony hops to C6, D4 rolls off my wrist. Strategy, I mumble, analyzing the
enemy’s position, establish a robust pawn structure. Align the laser beams, anticipating
black to short castle.
The ponies are now developed, supporting the well established pawn center. Frisky
and full of life, neighing to be rotated around and charge an attack on the king’s side.
Hooha, I rein them in. We must secure the Monarch first then go fight, I tell them.
Meanwhile my foot soldiers are engaged in trench warfare. Control the center, creating
barriers, blocking attacks, and seeking promotion. The rooks are connected and
blasting down the half open files. I’m content with this game. I’m happy.
I set out win like a wannabe GM, (and no, GM does not stand for Grandmother).
Then tables are beginning to turn towards the end of the middle game. And due to a
few inaccuracies the opponent is now encroaching with intent to stifle his opponent.
Who likes to be steamrolled in chess? He pops his pony onto a weakened square,
forking my beloved bishop.
Despite the end results, I try to remain agreeable to the idea that chess can teach you
good things.
They tell us some life lessons that playing this game might teach us include critical
thinking, strategic planning, problem solving, patience and persistence, analyzing
mistakes, risk management, focus and concentration etc.

Also another virtue that you’re technically taught is the one known as “adapting to
change”. Corresponding to the on scene inner emotions.
You chess nerds know all about it, the inner gleeful giddiness from pulling a good one
to the raging reality of just blundering your queen. It’s hard. It’s hard on the system.
Resilience is the key. Not flying pieces.
I Checkmate my choler.

Be Careful what you Feed – It will Grow by Jesse Hoover
In September 2023, a “philanthropist” attempted to do a great work for some poor deluded folks.
She personally delivered several Starlink antennas to a remote tribe in the Amazon rain forest.
Said satellite dishes would connect these underprivileged vagrants to the internet for the first
time in their lives. So sad to think that such impoverished waifs existed in this enlightened age.
At first, everyone was excited. The service allowed them to speak to people outside of their
communities. Some had family members living far away; now they could communicate instantly
with video chats. There were very poisonous snakes in the forest; now they could call for help
quickly. A few lives were saved by this glittering new technology.
Within a few months though, the Serpent behind the dazzle began to rear his ugly head. Work
ethic dropped like a rock among the young generation. Although this tribe is not even close to
modest by our chaste standards, they have very respectful and strict rules for interaction between
genders. However, with pornography readily available and often being shared in group chats;
sexual tension and acts of aggression were commonplace. Being social media illiterate, many
were falling for scams. Something had to be done.
But alas, the nasty Snake had already made a den in their hearts. Instead of giving the technology
back, or restricting the types of use, they simply placed time constraints on its use. This culture
was forever changed. Within 9 months, it has followed a very similar trajectory to that of the rest
of the world over the last 50 years.

Hearts Entangled #1 by Anthony Plett
He was hopelessly in love. She was too. Their relationship had progressed faster than he had
thought it would. He still remembered the first time he had met Rosa at market Wednesday morning.
She was buying a few chayotes for her mom, and he was buying some squash for her older brother’s
wife. Something had flashed between them, and ever since then he had looked for opportunities to
court her. He had been surprised at first to realize that she was also looking for opportunities to court
him.
But now Temo found himself in a predicament. They had to get married. Either that or break up.
They had progressed in their courtship to the point that they couldn’t continue as simply friends. They
both knew that they wanted to get married. They both also knew they were too young. In colonial
Mexico, in the 1950s things were different than now. He briefly thought of eloping, but the ruckus and
scandal it would bring to his brother and Rosa’s mom wasn’t worth it.
Besides he and Rosa had discussed it at length, that they wanted to work towards a better life.
They both desperately wanted a family of their own and a place to belong. He was thankful for a place to
live with his brother. It was a lot better than other arrangements he had lived with. Rosa had a mom that
took care of her, but she longed for a man in her life to lead her. If they got married, they wanted to be a
true family, not shards and pieces of one.
He tossed in his bed. He tried to look at it from all angles. The hours dragged on. Eventually the
realization dawned on him that there was nothing to lose by talking to his authority about it. If they were
too young than they could wait a few years until they were seventeen or eighteen. He was tired of hiding
his courtship. It was time to open up about it. It seemed to be too big of a burden for a fourteen-year-old
orphan to worry about.
But who was his authority? His heart throbbed at the memory of his mom. If only she would be
around. Maybe he should ask his uncle over in Ayapango. He shuddered at the thought. If there ever was
a human snake, it was his uncle. Where was his dad, he wondered. What kind of man would never show
himself to his son? Was he still alive? Oscar, Temo’s older brother, had hinted that their dad was a loser
and maybe even that there were more children than the two of them.
Again and again, his mind turned back to his older brother Oscar. He thought he should probably
talk to him. That was simply scary. Not that Oscar didn’t like him. It seemed that Oscar genuinely cared
about him. But they didn’t know each other. Temo had the feeling that maybe Oscar knew more about
his past than he had ever shared. They didn’t talk about each other’s lives. Neither did they talk about
their mom. Maybe the reason they never could get close was because they were only half-brothers.
He dragged himself back to the decision. In the darkness, he scrunched up his forehead. He
forced himself to think clearly. The plan of action seemed clear enough. The first step was to tell Rosa
that he planned to talk with his older brother about it. If she was fine with it, then he would pluck up his
courage and go through with it. If not than he would try to confront the issue of putting a pause on their
relationship. He grimaced at the thought. He sighed. “It is useless to try to sleep tonight” he thought to
himself. He rolled out of bed and silently left the house to walk the street.

No such thing as silence. by Karlin Bauman
Some people read 100 books a year. Some people plug their ears with music and podcasts all
day. Some people apparently love listening to themselves chatter nonstop twenty-four-seven.
Some people prefer to just sit and listen to all the activity of the world around them.
I met a godly man who is constantly saying that God speaks to him.
God spoke to him when he was in the depths of financial distress and told him what business
he should start to redeem himself. When printing handouts for a message he is going to
preach, God tells him how many he should print.
Thanks the same effect on my as the word “video” has on my bishop. To be clear, I love people
that can hear God, but I need to ask. Did God really tell you this? How did it sound when God
spoke?
You hear what you listen for. I had an 8th grader that could hear a cool truck coming down the
road a mile away while I was giving an interesting class, he was working on his math, having an
earplug in one ear, and the windows were all closed. How in the world did he do it? Humans
hear what they love.
Do you actually believe you will hear God if you listen for him? How much time will I be willing
to spend fine-tuning my ability to hear God? Do you really think you need to be able to hear
God? Most people don’t.
Humans need silence. They need silence so they can listen to God. Silence should not be the
absence of all sounds. It is the absence of all sounds except one. Do you like to experience
silence? What are you listening to in your silent moments? It would tell you what you love.

the unwanted Gift

Bob Gross was a star basketball player in the NBA. In one game, Bob injured
his ankle. However, his team needed another player, so Bob was asked to play
despite the pain he felt in his ankle. The team’s doctor injected Bob’s ankle
with Marcaine, a strong painkiller, in three different places on his foot; Bob
when off merrily to play, his pain gone.
While the game was under way, as Bob battled for a rebound, a distinct snap
was heard in the arena. Bod ran up and down the court two times, then
suddenly crumpled to the ground. He had felt no pain but had in fact broken a
bone in his ankle. “By canceling out pain’s warning system, Gross had laid
himself upon an injury that caused permanent damage and prematurely ended
his basketball career.”
Pain is a voice that carries a message: stop there is a problem! By silencing his
pain, Bob did not end his problem, he ended only his awareness of his
problem. Pain keeps us from injuring ourselves permanently, if we listen to it.
Years ago, the statistical consumption of aspirin in the United states was 30
thousand tons per years. That translates into each person consuming 250 pills
per week, to alleviate the pain they are feeling. Pain is undoubtedly something
the American culture is obsessed about avoiding. But more than just seeking
to avoid pain we actively pursue pleasure. Ironically, while millions are
consuming pain killers, 10-12 million people would regard a sap of pain as
good news. These people have leprosy. By not being able to feel pain leprosy
patience inflict harm on themselves. For thousands of years leprosy was
considered a terrible decease which ate up your flesh. But all leprosy is, is a
sickness that stifles your nerves which warn you of dangers. Leprosy patients
inflict harm on themselves without knowing it because they lack that essential
warning system.
Pain is an amazing system God has given us to cope with dangers. More than
just a physical pain system, God has given us a spiritual pain system: The Holy
Spirit. By silencing the Holy Spirit in our lives, we do not fix our problem, we
close the door to being able to fix our problem. Kendric Bauman
-Kendric Bauman

Shatterday by Rollan Plett

I ran into a massive problem today.
I went to town.
A lot of people think that Saturday is a great day to plug the streets of town. They
don’t barricade the road with concrete barriers or anything. It’s worse than that.
They all show up (several thousand of them) at the same time in their respective
gas hogger vehicles. Apparently, this is also the correct moment to shatter your
windows endlessly with the noise they call music. Also, instead of air conditioning,
the answer to enduring hot weather obviously is inmodesty. Then they think it’s a

great time to buy all kinds of things they don’t need, so they are everywhere plug-
ging the stores too. When town is like this, green lights don’t mean go, drive-thru’s

don’t mean fast food, and checkout counters don’t mean purchasing your items un-
less your perception of the future is crystal clear and phenomenally far-reaching.

It’s not that I hate people. But God nailed it when He said “In returning and rest
shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength: and ye
would not.”
I left town.
I did some humble work around the house.
God’s solutions always work. Try it next Saturday.

Three Problems by Vernon Ulrich
Violet is devastated. Her house and belongings were burnt to the ground by fire, leaving
her with almost nothing but the clothes she wore. Even her false teeth burnt, so she is
gumming and can hardly eat anything that she could before. She’s living in a small stuffy
storage shed, trying to endure the summer heat without ac. A sour stench sweeps through her
property from who knows what. Chickens, ducks, cats, and dogs nestle all over her property
-under her shed, in her shed, under the trailer, and everywhere you can think of.
Violet’s property spells destruction and disaster! But she seems blind to three
surprising, or not so surprising problems.
First, she loves animals to death. She has no time for killing animals. And if someone
else is not taking care of their animals, she tries to take responsibility for them too. My
educated guess is that she spends more money on her animals than on her own needs. She
likely spends 90% of her time tending her animals. She even sleeps with them. They appear to
be her very reason for living!
Also, she has a hard time getting along with people. Her relationship with her son and at
least one of her neighbors has exploded because they don’t view animals like she thinks they
should. When her neighbors attempt to help her, they can’t seem to do anything quite right for
her. It’s hard for anyone to please her.
Lastly, she is unthankful. She has many people and problems to complain about. But I
don’t recall anything she is thankful for. Life as a whole “owes it to her”.
This may seem like an extreme illustration, but many folks suffer tremendously day in
and day out because of these three problems. If Violet would downsize her farm to make it
more affordable, be patient with others who are trying to help her, and express thankfulness,
her life would be transformed tremendously.
You may not be tempted with this view on animals, but hobbies fit into this category as
well. Keep your hobbies in their place. Make Christ your reason for living, and all else
secondary.
Accept and appreciate help from others. Even if you don’t see everything eye to eye,
there is value in appreciating everyone around you. You can learn from people who view life
differently than you.
If I follow my feelings, I want to avoid Violet. But as I look back on my week, this
experience has influenced my perspective on life. I’m trying to be more thankful for everything
God has blessed me with. I want to love and appreciate those around me more -my family, my
neighbors, and my challenging customers.

Writing in the Inverted Pyramid Style May Be
Useful for Communicating to a Wide Audience

In order to appeal to the widest audience
possible with the limited space and the limited
attention span of its readers, newspapers around
the world make extensive use of the Inverted
Pyramid Style in their stories. This method has
proven to be effective in quickly communicating
the main points of a story to almost any kind of
reader.
The Inverted Pyramid Style consist of placing
the broadest, most essential details at the top,
beginning with the headline. Then, paragraph by
paragraph, the writer brings in the more precise
and minor details. In this way, the headline and
each of the paragraphs actually encapsulates the
entire story on its own, first in broad terms and
then in more and more precise terms.

The Inverted Pyramid Style allows almost any
kind of reader to quickly grasp the story,
whether he briefly scans the first few sentences
or carefully reads the whole way to the end.
Since the headline and the paragraphs each
encapsulate the story, this method also allows
the reader to quit reading at any point
throughout the article and still have grasped the
essence of the story. If a reader is only interested
in the main points, he can simply read the
headline or the first few paragraphs. If he is
interested in the nuanced details of the story he
can read the entire piece. It also allows the
reader to quickly get an overview of the day
news by reading the headlines and then diving
into the fewer number of stories that he wants to
know more about.

Alex J. Plett

This Little Chicky Stayed Home by Mark Hege
I have a nice little gray hen that set about to hatch some chicks. Every day she sat on her nest. It was
nice and dark and secluded, just like she wanted it. Well, eventually two of my little gray hen’s eggs
hatched. Clucking protectively, mother hen left the nest. Under her were two very tiny little chicks. She
led them about the farm, teaching them to eat, drink, and observe all things that she commanded
them.
By and by the chicks grew old enough and smart enough to take care of themselves, and so my little
gray hen headed back to the nest to hatch out some more chicks. As she settled herself down on the cozy
little nest she became aware that she was not alone. There, snuggling up to her side, was one of her
half-grown chicks. “Mama,” she said, “Here I am. Right where I belong.”
Every day my little gray hen sat on her nest. Almost every day the half-grown chick snuggled at her side.
Occasionally she would leave her mother and cautiously step out into the sunlight. She would tiptoe
here and there looking for her brother. Some days she found him before something scared her. Some
days something scared her before she found him. Either way she was soon back by her mother’s side,
saying, “Mama, it’s good to be back.”
Well, eventually two of my little gray hen’s eggs hatched. Clucking protectively, mother hen left the
nest. Under her were two very tiny little chicks. Halfway under her was her half-grown chick which was
about as big as she was. She led them around the farm, teaching them to eat, drink, and observe all
things that she commanded them.
But the half-grown chick that was about as big as her mother already knew everything that was being
taught. Occasionally she would leave her mother’s side and cautiously step out on her own. She would
tiptoe here and there looking for her brother. But when she found him she did not know what to do.
Her brother was so busy going here and there and doing this and that. With loud peeps the half-grown
chick would go running, looking for her mother that was no bigger than she was. “Mama,” she would
say as she pushed her head under the little gray hen’s wing, “It’s good to be back.”