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An elderly hermit lived on a mountain only a few miles from a great city. He had lived there all his life, spending his days in a cave where he kept enough to eat and a place to sleep. When the weather was warm, he would sit outside his cave and say hello to the hikers who climbed the difficult paths to the top. He was well-known in the area, and many people gave him food and stopped to talk. They always came away feeling differently about themselves; his mild eyes and his piercing stare were a combination that led many people to change their way of life. Some admired him, but many others feared him, and no one ever challenged him.
Recent discussions on "string theory" prompted me to write this short piece of fiction.
It would seem that as modern-day scientists talk of extra dimensions, they neglect to ponder the idea that there may be reasons why we four-dimensional dwellers can not comprehend these unimaginable folds. Perhaps we would be best off to leave Pandora's box tightly shut. - Clint Wilson
By Drog, Section Short Stories Posted on Tue Jan 20, 2004 at 05:15:19 PM PST
I sit alone, quietly seething in a dark corner of the club.
The slight aura around me is beginning to attract attention. I’m far too messed
up tonight to care about anything, though—even getting caught.
I take a long drag on my joint and slowly exhale, studying
the languorous tendrils of smoke cut by frenzied lasers astray from the distant
dance floor. On a whim, I reshape the smoke into a dragon, twisting and turning
its long serpentine body, darting deftly in and out amid the maelstrom of
lasers, until it suddenly launches itself across the room at an unsuspecting,
well-groomed young man nonchalantly inspecting the lithe and supple bodies on
the dance floor. It screams its terrible challenge into his mind only to
dissipate harmlessly on his wide-eyed face a second later. The man quickly
searches nearby faces for verification but nobody seems perturbed. He questions
his sanity for the first time in his life. I smile. He can’t even begin to
imagine insanity.
DIRECTORATE OF EDUCATION
UNITED STATES OF MARS
ATLANTIS, NEW GEORGIA AFC39
DATE OF APPROVAL: Sagittarius 36, 2204 A.D.
***The following proto-prion brain meme programming is APPROVED for immediate transdermal-patch application***
(NOTE: HYPERSTUDENT IQ 140+ version for direct MRI memory implantation yet to come...)
TARGETS : STUDENTS, LEVEL 9, MODERN EARTH HISTORY, IQ 139 AND UNDER
MEME 1, 21st Century: By 2050 A.D., astronomical and radar surveys had shown that no Near-Earth Asteroid would impact Earth for a period of 14.837 million years. Survey / monitoring efforts were discontinued.<STOP>
MEME 2, 21st Century: By 2099 A.D., following nuclear destruction of Mecca in Gulf War VIII, Arabic / Islamic populations established themselves on Asteroids with Chinese assistance paid for by petrochemical profits.<STOP>
MEME 3, 22nd Century: By 2175 A.D., Arab / Islamic refugee population on Asteroids exceeded surviving Arab / Islamic refugee population on Earth.<STOP>
MEME 4, 22nd Century: On September 11, 2199 A.D., Asteroid "Bin Laden" impacted on North American Aerospace Command Headquarters, Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs, Colorado, USA, Earth. Speed-of-sound superheated shockwave incinerated all human, animal and plant life in USA, Canada and Mexico within six hours. No prior warning of attack. Post-attack analysis of automated astronomical observations, radar records and trajectory calculations show high-speed gravity-assist Jupiter fly-by was used. <STOP>
MEME 5, 23rd Century: Treaty of Olympus Mons, signed Sagittarius 35, 2204 A.D., terminates all Martian humanitarian / nanobot assistance to Earth in return for mutual non-aggression pact with Celestial New Islamic Order.<STOP>
Chris Buchanan, President of the Mutant Enemy production company that is responsible for Joss Whedon's Firefly, is making some very hopeful noises about the possibility of a Firefly movie. "We are getting pretty close on the movie and hopefully we'll have some "official" news soon. It seems that the DVDs are doing really well (e.g. better than Fox anticipated) and that there have been significant re-orders (an unusual thing for this type of program). Of course, we weren't that surprised but what can you do."
"We really appreciate all of the fan efforts on the show's behalf and I am personally helping out on the 'DVDs to soldiers' project [SciScoop editorial aside by rickyjames - I've contributed; won't you, too?]. So just tell everybody and thanks for all their efforts. I read the boards daily and all of the great local input (where the DVDs are sold out, what the reviewers are saying about the set, etc.) is always helpful. Universal seems to be willing to make the movie (crossing fingers, touching wood, lighting candles), but we still have a few (non-creative) hurdles to cross."
Well, that's a cause for celebration in my book!!! So, speaking of Book, it's my privilege to present a work of fanfic reprinted by permission (thanks, Freya!) that tells the story of the Firefly episode Bushwacked from The Shepherd's point of view. Dramatis personae besides preacher Book who are paying passengers aboard the smuggling ship Serenity include "Companion" Inara, fugitive government-neurological-experiment guinea pig River and her doctor brother Simon. Think Stagecoach.
For you, lone sir in the back of the room who hasn't seen the Firefly DVD yet, Bushwacked tells the tale of coming across a colonizing spaceship that has been raided by the Reavers, those humans who have abandoned society and set up their own mysterious enclave in deep space. Reavers play the role of the savage Indians in Firefly's Western-oriented universe, and we will hopefully see (as indistinct evil shadows only) much more of them. Whedon said he could create humans far scarier than any alien in latex makeup. He's right.
Once upon an expedition, while I pondered extradition,
Watching many a quaint and curious patron of our local whore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at the outer door.
"Just Kaylee," I muttered, "tapping through some special chore -
"Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I still fear it, in the black, I still can hear it
And each time I try to clear it, there's its ghost upon the floor
Eagerly I wished to burrow, hide away, complete and thorough
But I could not seem to stir-oh, no! Instead I must explore -
For the poor and broken settlers who had chosen to explore -
Just for them, and nothing more.
One day a boy named Keo, dreamt a very bad dream. In his dream, he dreamt that huge bombs were exploded, as if, different types of rockets falling from the Sky and they were exploding on the Earth. It also appeared that many wars were being fought. He dreamt such type of dreams many a time. One day in the morning, he was thinking about the dream and he was worried of, if at all, if the dream comes true then how to see my Mother, my Father and my Brother and Sister? How to share their affection?...
Like this many questions arised in his small brain and tortured him. These type of the thoughts paved the way to him in such a way that he should do something constructively to the people who suffers a lot at the war period especially to the children who lost their parents. He thought that this effect of war shouldn't be felt by any one. The thoughts which arose in the mind of the boy related to the dream and the improvement in the maturity of his intelligence and the steps that he took to put his thoughts in a practical way to attain his ambition.
Accustomed to the veneer of noise, to the shibboleths of promotion, public relations, and market research, society is suspicious of those who value silence. John Lahr
There are a hundred billion things for sale, and everybody is selling them. There are a hundred million brands to know, and everybody hears them. If you say the right word at the right time, this dying world can be your oyster.
Everything we buy has eyes, because we're all looking out for one another. That's co-operation. Everywhere we go has ears, because whispers and secrets are the holdings of those who would harm us. That's security. No one is alone, and no one is afraid.
And sure, there's always the scoundrels -- the greedy and truthless barter-pirates of the invisible markets, the violent anti-automaton employment activists and their mediaeval dream, the sick privacy perverts who would shroud each life in a cloak of obfuscation and silence if they had their way -- but nobody said this world was perfect.
Myself, I don't complain. I am a free man. I go where I please, and brand for my butter. Earth may not have much in the way of jobs these days, but I don't have much need for a career.
I have never worked a day in my life, and I live like a prince.
By mfarah, Section Short Stories Posted on Thu Sep 18, 2003 at 11:35:08 PM PST
As I awoke in the hospital bed, I could see something was wrong. No more than a few seconds passed, and a doctor came in and said:
"Good morning, Mr. Gunn. I have bad news and good news for you. The bad news is: due a mix-up in the hospital's administration, instead of being sent to surgery for your scheduled appendectomy, you were sent to the cryogenics department. We've finally managed to wake you, three hundred twenty-seven years later."
The Fridge waited for someone to acknowledge the complaint.
"I said, he's left the milk to go off again."
"You think you've got problems," shouted the washing machine. "I've got a week's weight of washing in me that hasn't been done - and he still hasn't cleaned the filter."
There were murmurs around the apartment as others voiced their complaints silently to themselves.
