Bissell’s flip-flops stuck to the floor as he walked across the bar. They made a satisfying yet disgusting sound with each step, peeling off the floor over and over. 
His drunk friends sent greetings as he passed.
“Bis-ul!”
“Biss-ellll!”
“Hey, sweetheart.” That one always brought a...

Tris walked briskly past the docks, under the cranes, wondering what it would be like to have a shipping container dropped on his head. Would he feel anything or would it be instadeath?

He could see the East District ahead of him, and when the smell of the food vendors on...

Tris woke on the mat Zhao had supplied him with no concept of time. The warehouse was still lit in the same dim light. He heard Zhao shuffling about inside the caravan. Suddenly the old man appeared at the door and headed straight for Tris. “Time to go,” he said....

In the doorway stood a short, native but light-skinned man in overalls. He had a substantial grey beard on his face and a mag-fed shotgun in his hands. He motioned subtly for Tris to come through the door. Tris needed no further impetus. Without slowing, he pivoted and raced past...

The Horsefolk, The Hooves of Hades, The Horse Gang, The Centaurians, whatever they might be calling themselves these days, were a group of centaur-fetishizing fleshmods. They injected their legs and glutes with synthetics, modded their feet to be more hoove-like, even adding hard but impressively tenacious horseshoes that let them...

The man wandered the streets aimlessly, unaware of where we went or if it would get him in any trouble. He hadn’t been drunk for months, and it was a bad thing. He was too happy, too content, and everyone knew it. He was becoming a failure.
Another block passed...

Tris was a common courier. Sometimes he carried entirely above-board materials--legal documents, collectibles, legal wetware--but usually it was illegal contraband of one form or another. The types of things that, when in need of transportation, should not be trusted to be under the panoptical eye of a big corporation. Usually...

I wrote the song Painful Tired approximately two decades ago and I still have issues with sleep that leave my body physically aching. (This morning I feel physically ill after sleeping terribly last night, following a week of sleep deprivation.) The song describes a correlation between the external pressures of...

The recent-ish news about rational, intelligent, highly-trained people describing their experience of UFOs has me pretty excited. That excitement mostly stems from my technocapitalist-centric optimism that we can progress ourselves out of the problems we've created through our progress. I hold out hope that the aliens can and will save...

Having randomly read "Pessimism Seems Like an Intellectually Serious Position", which I am not even sure I agree with enough, or feel is complete enough, to quote...

I'm most frequently accused of being a pessimist. I'm the one always doing the detailed planning that reveals everything will take longer than you...