I always love walking past this place
Imagine the lovely lords and ladies clanking onto the stage, exciting the peasantry by pulling off vambraces, greaves, starting with a sultry kick to send a solid steel sabatons crunching the front row. That would be a real Gentlemen’s club, because you get a much more respectful audience when hurling your clothes can cause serious injury. I’ll never go…
Meatware: Okay, because of the jet lag we’re going full awake.
Mindware: The time shift is the other way. That should put us double-asleep by now.
Meat: Fuck you brain enjoy staring at the ceiling for three hours.
The brain is such an advanced problem-solving system it can decide to make things worse instead. People will spend five minutes agonizing over sandwich toppings and not one second wondering why everyone else in the queue hates them. I used to spend longer working out solutions the X-Men’s social problems than my own, which is why I came up with 5 Nerd Hacks To Make Me Less of a Jerk.
Civilization isn’t so much a computer game as a wonder of the world, and has consumed more person-hours. The latest update adds an array of new victory conditions:
Make Genghis Khan the most bullied person in history by always pre-emptively annihilating him, then get nuked by Mahatma Ghandi.
You Have Work In The Morning Victory
The game detects that it’s 4 am, that you have an alarm…
The ridiculous tension between wanting to write, not wanting to write, and not wanting to not write.
The wild animals didn’t help the Na’vi because Eywa decided she liked the white guy. The wild animals started killing everything because they downloaded a pissed-off gutshot Sigourney Weaver into nature.
You just put Ellen Ripley in an alien body - how happy did you think she was going to be?
The filthy neon light flickered, harsh flashes across stinking trash in the dead-end alley. The panicked figure desperately searched the unforgiving bricks for an impossible exit. The chromed hammer clicked back. One fat bullet tore through a defenseless male chest. Stricken, staggering, scarlet, the slight figure fell, rich red blood pooling around the shuddering, struggling body, then one last…
Someone in Oxford has hybridized ducks with garlic, and then they smoked it, and then I ate it, and now I can’t write because everything is achieved and perfect and how could I ever want more.
Pink clouds screamed past the drop pod. An energetic impurity in the atmosphere flared in the pod’s wake, bisecting the sky in a line of fire. This same impurity had driven the people of this world to construct a vast floating hive, where the resulting wealth had fostered impurities in their souls.
The drop pod punched through the upper tiers of the hive, smashing through layers of penthouse and…