Howdy. Here is a listing of all of my published flash fiction stories from 2004 until 2008. (I consider flash fiction to be between 100 and 1000 words.) They are listed with the most recent publications on the top and I have the work’s title, when and where it was published, and a brief blurb or history of the story. Most of these stories are on the web and I have linked to them. I hope you enjoy.
I wanted to do a future Christmas story, but I had some problems. Mainly being short on time. I spent some time trying to update “Twas the Night Before Christmas” for a lunar colony, but I didn’t get too far. “Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the dome / Not a creature was stirring, not even a ….” That was as far as I got. In the end I just wrote this future letter to Santa. If there are any problems with it, that’s because I haven’t written a letter to Santa for over twenty-five years.
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
This story started one cold, rainy, day when I asked myself why I was leaving my nice, dry, warm apartment to slosh through the cold and wet to go to work. Is work that important? Since it pays for my nice, dry, warm apartment, I guess so. But that reminded me of how one hot, blistering summer’s day I left the cool building where I work to go to lunch. It made me think of how smart our distant ancestors had been. On a day such as that, they would have just found a shady spot and stayed put. They wouldn’t have gone rushing around in the heat because of some time card. Sometimes, as I sit in my nice, dry, warm (or cool) apartment eating hot (or cold) food and drinking my cold (or hot) beverages, listening to music or watching TV, I wonder if maybe the simplicity of long ago is a good idea. Then I remember that most of the people my age long ago were dead, and it helps put things in perspective.
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I wrote this story in response to the brouhaha over a sign put up by the Freedom From Religion Foundation in Olympia, Washington.
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This started a couple of weeks ago when some friends and I went to Poe Evermore at the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire. At one point, one of the actresses was talking with the audience and I didn’t hear the beginning, but the subject of pumpkin pies came up. And she talked about pumpkin pies sweating. Her explanation as to the reason they “sweat” is that they know “the in-laws are coming … coming with forks.” I thought that was a great line, so I jotted it down and here I wrote a story for it.
The reason I’m dedicating this to Preston & Steve’s Camp Out for Hunger, well, they’re both silly and deal with food. You want something profound, I just wrote a story about General Turkey.
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I’m not this bad. But I do wonder if I start spending too much time building my online “image” will my real writing suffer? I don’t think my novel will hire a detective to follow me around to see why I’m not writing it, but you never know.
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I am a big supporter of the military. So what did I do this last Veterans Day? I posted a video (that’s no longer up) on my blog. That was it. I feel the men and women in our military deserve better from me, but I don’t know how to do that.
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“The legitimate powers of government extend to such acts only as are injurious to others. But it does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods, or no God. It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.” Thomas Jefferson, Notes on Virginia. I think this quote also works on the issue of gay marriage. It does me no injury for my neighbor to marry a man or a woman. About a year ago I read somebody’s blog who wrote basically that gay marriage would destroy the foundation of the country. I commented that it was insulting for them to think the foundations of the country are so weak that letting a small percentage of the population get married would shatter them. Some may have a moral objection to gay marriage, well, I have a moral objection to torture. And even if the President himself supported torture, it wouldn’t change my beliefs.
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I think this started with the 1992 Presidential Election. I was too young to vote, but I was old enough to be sick and tired of all the political commercials and the non-stop reporting on it. On Election Day I thought, Finally, we can get back to hearing about starving Somalis, since our politics far outweighs such trivial things like famines and wars in other countries. It makes me wonder what we’ll learn has been going on in the world on Wednesday. We’ll have to see.
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Several weeks ago, I was reading this uberconservative’s column where she said that liberals are all whiners who think that if Obama doesn’t win it wouldn’t be because McCain beat him fair and square, but because “the Republicans cheated.” I was tempted to write a letter pointing out that some conservatives will feel that if McCain doesn’t win, it wouldn’t be because Obama was better, but because they didn’t fully support McCain. I think whoever wins, whatever happens, the other side will spin it to try to downplay that success. It feels like our differences are now more important than our similarities. Is “We the People” now just a quaint idea?
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
I think it was about a year ago I was critiquing a piece in one of my writing groups. I can’t remember if I was just skimming through it or if something distracted me, but I came across the phrase, “a litter of puppies” and for whatever reasons, I read it, “a liter of puppies.” I did a double-take, thought how silly it was to have a liter of puppies, and ended up thinking that would be a great title for a book about typos. So for about a year, “a liter of puppies” have been running around in my mind. Hopefully, now that I’ve written a story with that title, I can move on to something else. And maybe you’ll be stuck thinking of a liter of puppies.
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What’s the deal with the flags?
With my mental health vacation and my 30 Stories in 30 Days Challenge I haven’t done a Weekly Story in two months. This week when I was going to start them back up, I wondered should I write one on the economy or the election. Then I decided to write one on a story that was lost in the economic and election news. This week marked the MESSENGER spacecraft’s second flyby of Mercury. For the first flyby back in January, I wrote the story “Impacts” dealing with a base on Mercury to watch for asteroids that might hit Earth. So I decided to write another Mercury story. But what to write? I realized that before there could be a base on Mercury, someone would have to be the first person on Mercury. So I decided to write about that. Then, only a few hours later, I learned about the asteroid 2008 TC3 which would burn up in the atmosphere over Africa. So I guess I should have written this story about the first landing on Mercury back on MESSENGER’s first flyby, and the story about the base watching for asteroids for the second flyby. Oh well, you can’t have everything.
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Several years ago I was looking at all of my unread books and – to try to force myself to read more – vowed that every book I bought would go directly onto my “To Read Pile” which at the time was about a dozen books. Since then the pile has grown – like a tumor – into four piles, each about two feet tall stacked on top of one of my file cabinets. I was looking at “The Pile” and the books on one of my bookshelves one night, and realized for my 30 Stories in 30 Days Challenge I should write a story about a guy who has more books than he could ever read. While I waited for sleep I tried to think of a story, but nothing came.
About 5:30, I was woken by several loud thumps. About ten books had fallen from “The Pile” to the floor, knocking over a garbage can. I don’t believe in poltergeists or anything like that, and since I had been poking around in it, I just assumed I had destabilized one of the piles and gravity took over. But I did think it was a spooky coincidence and would make an interesting back story for whenever I wrote the story about the guy with too many books.
That morning at work, I tried to think of a good story, but still had no luck. Then, my sleep deprived, never-quite-right, brain suggested that perhaps my books hadn’t “fallen” but had been trying to attack me for not reading them. Thus, the pissed off book monster was born. In my defense, I have read Anna Karenina, War and Peace, The Naked and the Dead, the first nine Dresden books, and I forced myself through the first hundred pages or so of Ulysses, so my books shouldn’t be that mad at me. Oh, and I would like to apologize to all the bibliophiles who will now have nightmares.
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This started as a poem I began several years ago for a woman I was dating at the time. I think I wrote two lines and then got stuck. I was thinking about this the other day and wondered if I could get a short story out of it, and voilà.
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These are my feelings about political endorsements. But on a more interesting note, I’ve recently decided to bite the blog bullet, and will be starting up a blog in a month or so. The title I’ve chose for my blog will be, “The Prince of Pithy,” which is something a member of one of my writing groups called me because of my pithy writing style.
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A couple days ago, Preston & Steve aired the audio of the following clip. So this story just … fell out of my head, I guess you could say. I took the title from the Major Tom from “Space Oddity.”
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I was sitting in a coffee shop, burned out, trying to think of six really short stories I could write to finish out my damn 30 Stories in 30 Days Challenge.
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A couple months ago, I had an idea and jotted down the following note, “Ex-astronaut commanding commercial space station for tourists.” I had an idea for this, but I couldn’t remember what it was. And somehow, this is the story that came out.
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A couple of days ago I was talking with this guy at work and he was saying how he had seen on some science show that scientists had given some drug combination to mice and it had doubled their lifespan. If it could be adapted to humans, then people could routinely live to 120 or 130. I said, “Could you imagine working for the same company for a hundred years?” to which he replied, “I’d be raiding X’s lab for the cyanide.” To explain, I work in a chemical laboratory and cyanide is used as a reactant in a test we run, so there is a bottle or two locked in a cabinet in X’s lab. Of course I – like half the people in the building – know where the key is kept. A word of warning to my critics.
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These three stories show an aspect of my writing. Over the past few years, I have read half-a-dozen or so stories about societies that are ninety-nine or one hundred percent female. In the same period I can’t remember reading any stories where the opposite was true. So I thought that was an interesting idea, but as often happens with me, the one idea could be taken in different directions. Hence, I have three stories that came from one idea.
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Every time I hear some schmuck say we shouldn’t do something because it “wasn’t the intent of the Founding Fathers,” I want to ask if the Founding Fathers had a crystal ball with which they could foresee all the problems the country would face, and thus write the solutions into the Constitution. Don’t get me wrong, the Founding Fathers were some of the brightest minds of the Eighteenth Century. Of course, we live in the Twenty-First.
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This all began with VenomFangX – a YouTube drama queen – and his “situation” with Thunderf00t. (For an explanation, see Thunderf00t’s video “Game over man, game over...) VenomFangX made a video response (which is no longer up) in which he starts by saying he’s offered a hand of friendship to Thunderf00t so there’s no reason to make a legal case out of this. But then, a few minutes later in the same video, he paranoically states that since Thunderf00t has his personal information, he’s afraid that he and his family will get whacked. I’m not a doctor so I don’t know if this fits the clinical definition, but I think that if you offer the hands of friendship to someone, and then imply that they are a potential murderer, that’s psychotic.
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This is a Felix story.
An ex-girlfriend didn’t care for science fiction and was always telling me I should more down to Earth things. So I’ve had a desire to explain the importance of science fiction, and this is what I came up with.
The image in question can be found here.
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I must have been channeling somebody else, since I am a productive employee as I never have days like this.
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A couple years ago – while I was at work – I googled my homevillage (it’s not big enough to be a town) and found that the third or fourth entry was for a swinger’s site. I wrote down the idea of a guy discovering his parents are swingers in this manner, and then repressed the memory. That is, until I went through my notebooks looking for ideas for my 30 Stories in 30 Days Challenge. I googled it again, but most of the results this time dealt with the Amish school. I’m not entirely sure what that says about my homevillage.
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This started with a dream I was having. Somehow I had gotten this chair and I was carrying it on my back. I was in this crowded mall – which was also a university – but I slipped out a side door and was heading for my car when this giant, outdoor amphitheater got in my way. My alarm went off, I reset it to give me fifteen more minutes, then I laid back down. In my half-awake state it seemed to me more honorable to stay there and carry a chair then to go to work.
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Yesterday I was at a party and the story of the house with the Velvet Jesus and Elvis above the bed came up. I thought that was too good to pass up for a story. Now if I could only come up with something involving plastic chickens.
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Last weekend I went home, and I spent a evening sitting by a fire.
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This follows other stories of mine – “One Against Many” and “Enslavement” – where I ask, “How do you get people to think for themselves?” You can’t just go out and tell them, you need to be subtle.
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Several months ago I was at a friend’s house waiting for other friends to show up. They were debating where to order food from, and since they had so many fliers they decided to sort them. I watched them for a few minutes and the phrase “The Honeymoon’s Over” came to mind.
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This started with the movie Hancock which begins with a superhero who has a hard time dealing with being a one of a kind and tries to drown his sorrows. I found this very interesting because most superheroes are inhuman with their clean cut nature. I mean, I can’t really see Clark Kent or Peter Parker sitting in a grimy bar. So the idea of an alcoholic superhero drifted around in the dark corners of my mind. Along the way it ran into something I had read years ago. I can’t remember where it was, but I read an interview with this woman who was a manager at some company. She didn’t micromanage, but she had to know what everyone was doing or if they had any problems and such. It was her nature to be in control at the office, but the only way she could relax was to give up that control and be submissive at home. Her husband or boyfriend would tie her to the bed and flog her, that was how she relaxed. So I was thinking that if you have an alcoholic superhero, it isn’t much of a stretch to have masochistic superhero. Now I am not equating alcoholism and masochism, I know there is a difference, so I don’t want any angry emails from alcoholics or masochist saying I’ve besmirched their characters.
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With the advances in health care, it is possible that you could work for a company for forty years and then enjoy forty years of retirement. You could be around to see your grandkids retire. It’s a good thing Social Security is on a solid foundation to weather the oncoming grey masses.
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I always hate when people say that space exploration is a waste of money. I always want to ask how many billions are spent each year on cosmetics. Is looking and smelling good so much more important than exploration? I would say that I don’t think so, but that would just open me up to all kinds of jokes. And in case you’re wondering, I used to work at a convenient store, and yes, all the customers were schmucks.
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This is a Joe Story.
In the past few weeks I’ve seen and heard several people – Democrat and Republican – say that they might stay home this November because they really don’t like their party’s candidate. I agree that you should be able to vote your conscience, but staying home? I mean, in 2000 I voted for Ralph Nader, not because I thought he was the best choice, but as a protest against Gush and Bore. So you don’t like Obama or McCain, fine. But disliking a politician is all it takes to keep you home?
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What’s the deal with the flags?
This is a story born in symmetry. I have numerous stories set in my Human Republic universe, and if you check out my Human Republic page you’ll see most of them listed. If I had all of them finished, I could probably fill two or three books. So I started working on the stories I would need to use as a primer to my universe. They would make up the first volume, and the other stories (which give a greater depth to my universe) would be in the second and so on. Then I started thinking about linking the beginning and ending stories in each book. Thus the first volume starts with “In the Blink of an Eye” which is where my universe breaks off from “reality,” and features Sandra Lewis who – in the years following the story – becomes the George Washington/Thomas Jefferson/James Madison of the Human Republic. It then continues with “Tough Questions,” “The Kingdom of Beer,” “The Fruits of Piracy,” other shorter stories, and ends with “Duty, or Honor.” This last is the first appearance of Lieutenant Carolyn Curtis – Sandra’s great-great-great-granddaughter – who in the years following the story becomes Captain in my Never Surrender series. The second volume begins with “Hello” which tells of how the Pentans make First Contact with Humans, picks up other stories, and ends with an as yet untitled story which tells what happened when Humans first met the Whistlers who are the enemy in Never Surrender. I thought it was a great idea, but then I noticed that the first volume would have a few stories involving Humans setting up the Human Republic, and then out of nowhere these alien Pentans would show up since the story of them making First Contact would be in the second volume. So I needed a new story dealing with Contact with the Pentans, and I came up with two. One is the clichéd story full of pomp and ceremony of an alien ship landing before the gathered dignitaries of Earth, and basically the opposite of that, “Freelancers.” So the short version is that “Freelancers” is the solution to a problem that I made myself. Ah, the joys of writing.
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This is a Lisa and Dave story.
This started years ago when an ex-girlfriend and I had an argument over the Electoral College – don’t ask. Anyway, it turns out I was right and she was wrong, but I knew enough not to tell her that. That’s where this story came from.
The original story is no longer online.
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What’s the deal with the flags?
This week is the start of the Beijing Olympics. When I think of the Olympics, I immediately think of a friend of mine who is writing a novel set during the ancient Olympics. Ancient Olympics, Modern Olympics, it was natural for me to think of Future Olympics, and voilà, “From the Past, to the Future” was born.
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I can’t remember what got me writing this, but it can be traced back to the Taliban destroying those Buddhas, people trying to ban Harry Potter, Nazi book burning, etc., etc. There is a long history of groups of people trying to impose their beliefs on others and I thought it only seemed fair that those who try to impose their beliefs on others should have other beliefs imposed on them. Of course, in any conflict – be in militarily or culturally – there are innocent bystanders.
The original story is no longer online. Click here for the revised version.
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I think the title pretty much shows my feelings on the matter.
Here are links to Virgin Galactic, a video on the rollout of “Eve,” and an animation showing what tourists should expect.
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What’s the deal with the flags?
A couple months ago I killed two birds with one stone; I needed a story to take to a writing group I had just started going to and I needed a story to submit to AntipodeanSF. So I sat down and pounded out this quick little story about a kid playing. I took it to the group and after revising it with their critiques, I submitted it and it was accepted. I think this is the shortest period of time (not counting my Weekly Stories) between the writing of a story and its acceptance. I guess the challenge now is to break this record.
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Iran test fired some missiles. “Look out, they might have nukes!”
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This is a Jonathon Davies story.
This started because I wanted to do a Jonathon Davies story, but couldn’t think of something to write about. And I do think people need to be offended more, that way they get used to it and don’t go off the deep end whenever it (eventually) happens.
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Last year we had some “money people” going through where I work, and we were told to “clean things up for them.” It wasn’t as bad as what I wrote in the story, but I still felt dirty.
The original story is no longer online.
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
I wrote this story to mark the death of George Carlin. Instead of me dolling on and on about how great I think he was, I originally had a few clips of him, including the “piano” line I took my title from, but it’s no longer up. But this one of his views on death is still up. He will be greatly missed.
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As my Patriotic Duty was wrapping up and I was returning to my Weekly Stories, what should I write about? I sat down and came up with about ten story ideas, but didn’t know which one to pick. Instead, I ended up writing about how overwhelmed the writing process can be.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published as my May 6, 2007 Weekly Story.
This story is a bit dated, but it is still good. A couple news stories merged to form this story. I freely admit that I stole the title from a two-part Babylon 5 episode. I was debating a couple of other titles but what really clinched it for me was this quote from Part 2: “The war is never completely won. There are always new battles to be fought against the darkness. Only the names change.”
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This is a story I wrote at work. I think it describes my view of work, although I don’t dance.
This is no longer online.
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This story started when I had some computer problems recently. For several days instead of immersing myself in the online world I had to deal with the boring, old, real world. One night while I was watching TV, I looked around and it was like I was seeing my apartment for the first time. It’s become such a constant background that I almost forget it; something you are so used to being there you don’t notice until it’s gone.
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This story was published as part of My Patriotic Duty. When I was gathering stories for this I grabbed this one because I thought it had been published before. Turns out it wasn’t, so, this one’s new.
This is in response to all the people who hate the “other” color of the US, without realizing that a one color nation isn’t all that desirable.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published as my October 22, 2006 Weekly Story.
This started in response to the border wall, and originally was going to be about the world putting up a wall around the US to keep our fast food, and “American culture” from infecting the rest of the world, but then it went on a different path.
Now, some will read this and come away thinking that I hate America. I’ll reply that I’m a student of history. Rome was the greatest power in the world; yet it fell. Why will America be different? I am honest enough to admit that someday America will fade, even fall. But to steal a line, there is no shame in that, no dishonor. It is the natural order of things.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published in September 2006 as part of Silent Steve’s Stories.
I don’t believe this will happen, but I bet something along this line does. It is an extremely depressing thought, but given how little attention is given the matter these days, it is likely.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published in November 2006 as part of Silent Steve’s Stories.
This is just a simple idea that many people will find offensive. Basically, given how large a role Jesus is given in American politics today, what if he was given similar treatment back when he was alive?
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This is based on something that happened one day when I was critiquing a story at my local coffee shop. The only real difference is that I didn’t have a store employee to tell my brilliant line to; I had to write it in my writing notebook.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published as my April 22, 2007 Weekly Story.
This started last year when I read an article about Social Security running out of money in 2041 – the year I turn 65. That got me wondering if the politicians will “get around” to fixing it by then and thus this story was born.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published in July 2006 as part of Silent Steve’s Stories.
This started when I realized that most, if not all, of our elected officials deserve to have the crap beat out of them. That is not an opinion; it’s a statement of fact. Since the stick of, “if-you-don’t-do-a-good-enough-job-We-won’t-vote-for-you-and-you-won’t-be-reelected,” doesn’t seem to be working, maybe we need to start using a real stick.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published in July 2007 as part of Silent Steve’s Stories.
The origin of this story is simple: how do you judge which candidate is worthy of your vote? Do you go by their campaign promises which, as I point out in my story, are little more than hot air? Or do you go by the size of their war chest, which just shows their skills of conning money from people? Or do you take the easy path and vote only for your party? Of all the candidates that are running, how do you choose the one best suited to become President in January 2009? And given the importance of the position, don’t we deserve better than all the Candidates A and B? But does that mean Candidate C deserves our vote just on the basis that they are Candidate C? I know, I know. Why did I have to make choosing the most powerful person in the world seem so complicated?
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This is a true story, but the names have been changed to protect the guilty. Eight or nine years later, I went back and the large splotch of paint (and some smaller ones) were still there. Ah, the memories of youth.
The original story is no longer online.
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This story came about because lately I’ve been counting my novels before I’ve written them. I need to stop that. But this might say a bit too much about me. If the premise of Damocles sounds interesting, good, because I’m planning on that being my second novel (once I finish my first one.) Also, what I wrote about the alternate history moon mission story being an empty stage looking for a plot is true, but as to the vampire in Henry VIII’s court, I just pulled that out of thin air for this story.
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This story was republished as part of My Patriotic Duty. It was first published as my June 17, 2007, Weekly Story.
This was just the best story to start My Patriotic Duty with. It’s a rant about the government, and it has the perfect title.
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This is a Jonathon Davies story.
Instead of just having stories about some guy running for President ranting about how bad politics is, it’s a lot harder to work out his stand on the issues facing the country. Look forward to more of these “stand on the issues.”
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This is a Jonathon Davies story.
Instead of just having stories about some guy running for President ranting about how bad politics is, it’s a lot harder to work out his stand on the issues facing the country. Look forward to more of these “stand on the issues.”
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A little over a year ago I wrote “Parallel Opinions” which dealt with all the conspiracy theories that sprouted after Dick Cheney was assassinated by the Taliban. At the time I thought it was an interesting idea to have a news article from a parallel world, and knew it was something I should keep in mind for a future story. Well, that future story finally arrived.
I was working on another Jonathon Davies story dealing with his thoughts on Iran (which I will probably post next week) and he makes an observation concerning the destruction of USA 193, and it just started me thinking and in less than a minute I had this story to write. (I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse that it takes so little to give me story ideas.)
Just so you know I wasn’t making it up, here’s the link to Wikipedia’s entry on Space Liability Convention.
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
This story started when I was wikified, or Douged, if you will when I started a story in response to the whole “Hussein” issue. But I loved the idea so much (especially the ending) that I knew I needed to use it somehow. That’s when I remembered that I had wanted to do another Tom and Jeremy story, and thus “A Bill by Any Other Name” was born.
One interesting fact, I had been thinking about this story for two or three days before I sat down to write it. About an hour and a half later I was posting it on my website. Now if only I could do stuff like that more often.
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This started from a bizarre conversation at one of the writing groups I go to. I thought about recreating the scene in a story, but wasn’t entirely sure how to work in the ex-carnie with a horse fetish (don’t ask.) But after some “musing” this story developed. And in case you are wondering, I have plans for three of the four ideas I show. If I ever get around to writing them, I’ll let you know.
The original story is no longer online.
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I have waaay too much time on my hands.
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This is a Jonathon Davies story.
Instead of just having stories about some guy running for President ranting about how bad politics is, it’s a lot harder to work out his stand on the issues facing the country. Look forward to more of these “stand on the issues.”
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I am not at liberty to discuss this story.
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This is to mark Darwin Day 2008. It’s meant to convey that evolution will happen, no matter what any school board does.
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This started when some coworkers and I were wondering what our boss would do if we tried some office jousting. The reason we were wondering about this … well we were bored. I think at one point someone said it would be a “fun way to be fired” and I thought, that would be an interesting book. And thus, I wrote this “chapter.”
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Except for bumping into the woman at the end, this happened to me recently and I thought it was rather funny.
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This is a Jonathon Davies story.
I needed a Jonathon Davies story, and I just started with a coworker asking about his bumper sticker.
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What’s the deal with the flags?
While this story commemorates MESSENGER’s first flyby of Mercury, it really started several years ago. One day I had the idea of challenging myself to writing a story set on or in orbit of every planet in the solar system. I did think of some stories, but I don’t think I actually followed through on any of them. But when I was thinking about a story for Mercury I had to ask myself, “Why would anyone go there?” Then I had an interesting idea. From Earth, we can look out away from the sun and detect asteroids and comets that could impact us, but we have trouble looking inwards to detect objects orbiting between the sun and the Earth. For now these objects are called Apohele asteroids. We could detect them with space-based telescopes, or we could build two observatories at Mercury’s poles in permanently shadowed craters. So it was while thinking about Mercury again and the very slight possibility of a meteoroid hitting Mars in a few weeks, that this story developed. And just for fun, I set it in my Human Republic Universe. Originally, it was going to be more obviously set in that universe, but when I went back and rewrote it, those elements were chopped. But I do think it’s a better story now.
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
I am – and I believe I’m in the majority on this one – sick of Election ’08. I knew I should write something about the New Hampshire primary, but I didn’t have it in me to write something positive. I did consider just writing about American Gladiators, and thus the idea of combining the two occurred to me, and this story is the result.
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This is the first Jonathon Davies story.
If I was running for President, this is probably the way I’d start my campaign.
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I think the story pretty much explains itself.
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This was just a story that had been bouncing around in my head for awhile which I didn’t know what to do with. Then I remembered that part of why I started posting stories on MySpace was to use up the stories I didn’t know what to do with. But since I’m starting to run out of those, and “A Start” was a good title for the first story of a new year, it all seemed to fit together.
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This story, of course, deals with The Golden Compass and the Catholic League’s boycott of it, and gives my reasoning as to why we should all work to make the boycott fail.
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Some Christians think they are fighting a war with atheists over Christmas. But I’m sad to tell them, they’ve already lost the war. But it wasn’t atheists they were fighting, but places like Wal-Mart. Christmas no longer has anything to do with Jesus; it’s now a three month orgy of consumerism. It’s not Christ-mas, but Consume-en masse. And is that something worth fighting for?
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Lately, there has been a lot of talk about political endorsements. Personally, I don’t care. Oprah or the Des Moines Register have nothing to do with who I vote for. So if you read the story, I’m Joe.
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
This is my reasoning as to why The Golden Compass wasn’t as big a movie as expected. I don’t know what else to say.
PS. The song Tom and Jeremy couldn’t remember is “Ramble On” by Led Zeppelin.
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Who knew that the mighty Catholic Church, which has been around for centuries, is so fragile it can be destroyed with a paperback book? How is that possible? It must be a combination of being built upon a flimsy foundation and being rotten to the core. At least, that’s the message I get from people getting up in arms over “The Golden Compass.” I mean, Pullman must be a hell of a writer. I read the Narnia books but they didn’t make me a Christian, but apparently any Catholic kid who reads Pullman’s books will automatically become a militant atheist. On one hand I can’t help but laugh over this whole affair, but on the other … the idea that there are people like Bill Donohue in the world is just frightening.
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This story started a couple years ago when I saw an article about this church buying a full page ad informing Christians that they should only do their Christmas shopping at stores displaying “Merry Christmas” signs instead of the vile “Happy Holidays.” There are those who cry that there is a “War on Christmas” going on in this country, but they don’t realize Christians have already lost the war. The winner was Wal-Mart. Nowadays, Christmas has nothing to do with Jesus, it’s all a three month orgy of consumerism. You want proof, reread the first sentence. That church doesn’t care about Jesus, it’s all about the money. Do you really think Jesus would go shopping and if he saw a “Happy Holidays” sign he would throw a tantrum and start smiting people left and right?
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This story started when I realized something that I already knew; coming up with ideas to save the world are easy, actually seeing them through is the hard part. And I began wondering how many good ideas never see the light of day? How many are lost in a dusty journal nobody will ever read, or are never written down in the first place? And how many are destroyed when the Earth is demolished to make way for a hyperspatial express route?
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
The really sad thing about this story is that the I did not make up the two studies. They were done, and those were the results. Something to think about.
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This is my story to mark the first ever Great American God-Out. In no way do I intend this to explain everything about atheists; it’s just to give people something to think about.
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This story began one morning when I was having a dream best described as a combination of Stargate SG-1 and Dice Wars. Trust me, in the dream world, it works! When I woke up, I tried to remember what I thought was an interesting aspect of the dream which I thought would make a good story, but I couldn’t fully grasp it. And I realized that I can’t just enjoy my dreams, I have to take notes.
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This is based on a true story I heard about several years ago. This is my idea of what that poor Good Samaritan went through.
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About ten years ago, I came up with the idea of a guy stealing grains of sand from Father Time’s hourglass. The story dealt with Father Time’s daughter seducing the guy trying to find where he hid all that he had stolen. I like the idea, but I don’t think I ever wrote anything down for it. I was thinking about it the other day, and started to wonder what I would do if I had extra time. I would like to think that I would spend the time writing or catching up on my reading or other productive methods of spending my time. But let’s be honest – I would waste it watching videos and playing computer games. That’s where this story came from.
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
I think it took me longer to come up with the title for this story than to actually write it.
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This is a story I’ve been sending out for awhile, so I’m glad it’s finally been accepted.
I sat for a couple of minutes trying to remember how this story came about, but I can’t remember. All I can come up with is that it is my educated guess as to why the aliens mutilate cows and make crop circles. And I think it’s a believable explanation.
It appears their archive system is messed up, so you can’t find it online right now.
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The reason I made September 14th Lummox Day was because that was the day I came up with the idea for the story. As I left work I realized I didn’t have the compulsion I’ve had for months of getting to my car and the AC. Instead of the usual “hot enough to fry an egg,” the temperature was very comfortable. And I wondered, Does it mean summer’s over when I no longer rush for the AC? That seems a better indicator to the change of seasons than a groundhog seeing his shadow. Once the idea was there, the story pretty much wrote itself.
I borrowed the term Lummox from Ren and Stimpy.
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This story is related to my Tom and Jeremy stories.
I started this story (dealing with people attempting to get Bush impeached) shortly after I wrote “Fliered Up” but something came up so it got pushed to the back of my mind. But I finally dug it up and finished it off. Hope you enjoy.
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This story was my attempt to go back to the wonder of the beginning of the Space Age. Hopefully, it worked.
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Speaking very broadly, the part of America that seems to want war with Iran is also the part that would agree with Ahmadinejad that homosexuality is wrong. But the part of America that advocates gay rights is the part that wants to avoid war at all costs. I think that’s an interesting conundrum, but it is something that all the parts will – of course – conveniently ignore.
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I think this pretty much sums up my feelings about the whole O. J. thing.
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This started shortly after the fifth anniversary of 9-11 when I realized that Osama is probably surprised he’s still alive. Despite being a mental case, some part of his mind should have known that the only really thing the Japanese accomplished at Pearl Harbor was to wake a sleeping giant. Maybe we aren’t fully awake yet.
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This week marks two anniversaries. The first of course is the sixth anniversary of 9-11. The second, more cheerful, is the first anniversary of my Weekly Stories. In the past year I’ve written 48 stories (I missed a couple of weeks) and posted them on my website. To mark both anniversaries, I am reprinting my first Weekly Story, “No Substitute.”
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It was a bit of a shock to walk into the men’s room one morning and come face to face with a Borg Urinal. The first thing that popped into my mind was, It’s been assimilated! (I admit, I’m odd that way.) But I knew I had to write a story about it. This is what I came up with.
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What’s the deal with the flags?
While there is nothing explicit in this to make it a story set in my Human Republic Universe, I’ve written it as such because it deals with issues I hope to raise there.
I think everyone wants a place where they “fit” in. But over the years I’ve come to the realization that there may not be a place “in this world,” where I “fit.” My tastes, beliefs, ideas, experiences, are all too iconoclastic. This led to many arguments with an ex-girlfriend who seemed to feel my stubborn refusal to be “like everyone else,” was a result of a chemical imbalance. She would not accept that I was perfectly normal – it’s all you people that are the weirdoes.
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Judgment Day plus ten was something I had been looking forward to for months, but it wasn’t until the day after that I realized why I should celebrate it. Other than being a dork, of course.
Here’s the link for the opening sequence for Terminator 2: Judgment Day
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I know this isn’t a story – more of a blogging rant – but the original idea for my Weekly Stories was for me to expand my writing styles. Besides, this is something that actually happened and if I hadn’t written this, I would probably have completely forgotten it in a couple of days. So now, this moment of modern insanity will live on.
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This is a Tom and Jeremy story.
This story started about 9:00 AM on August 6th. My desk calendar at work was still open to the previous Friday and I was flipping the pages up to Monday and I realized it was August 6th. Have you ever had days where you know it’s Monday, but you don’t know what the exact date is? Anyway, I was shocked that I had almost forgotten the importance of that day. I also realized that I had my story idea for the week.
Unfortunately, coming up with the idea for the story is far easier than writing it. The first version I started turned out to just be too far-fetched. However, when I reeled it in a bit, I realized that I was no longer doing what I had wanted to do. But then, after a couple days of when I did not know what I would be writing, Tom and Jeremy came to my rescue.
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I read an article about the UN sending 26,000 Peacekeepers into Darfur. A couple things in the article made me shake my head. An example – after four years and 200,000 deaths – an earlier proposal did not go through because it contained, “harsh language.” There were also three or four people verbally patting themselves on the back for reaching this momentous agreement blah, blah, blah.
My reaction to the article was to say, “Yeah, yeah, make all the speeches you want. There’s no hurry.”
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This story started when I got a bulletin like the one in the story. My first thought was to ignore it, but my second thought which came quickly after the first one was, If only it were that easy. I guess the moral of the story is: If you like someone, tell them. Don’t hide behind bulletin posts. That’s good advice, I guess. It hasn’t really worked for me, but it still sounds good.
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My boss wasn’t in Europe (damn!) but the work I was doing involved me working for ten or fifteen minutes setting up a test and then sitting back for ten or fifteen minutes while the test ran. I tried to do some writing during these brief “free” times, but I couldn’t seem to get motivated. So I sat there staring at a blank page knowing I should be writing something. “Blank” is what – eventually – came up.
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This story is related to my Tom and Jeremy stories.
I think the thing that annoys me most about the whole Iraq issue is people wanting to sum it all up in a simple yes-or-no question: Should the troops come home? They say the devil is in the details, but that does not mean they should be ignored.
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This is my story to commemorate Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. This is about the third incarnation of the story, which is a lot to go through in about a week. I have only seen the five movies, and I just started the third book. Any other information I needed for this story came from Wikipedia, so if I’ve made any gargantuan mistakes, it’s their fault.
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The origin of this story is simple: how do you judge which candidate is worthy of your vote? Do you go by their campaign promises which, as I point out in my story, are little more than hot air? Or do you go by the size of their war chest, which just shows their skills of conning money from people? Or do you take the easy path and vote only for your party? Of all the candidates that are running, how do you choose the one best suited to become President in January 2009? And given the importance of the position, don’t we deserve better than all the Candidates A and B? But does that mean Candidate C deserves our vote just on the basis that they are Candidate C? I know, I know. Why did I have to make choosing the most powerful person in the world seem so complicated?
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I recently took a too-short vacation. My experience my first morning back to work was the model for this story. The only thing more depressing then realizing my “price” was knowing that I have worked for less – a lot less.
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A couple of weeks ago I went to the Wizard World Convention in Philadelphia with some friends. At one point during the day my friend James was talking about how years ago – before he started dating his fiancée – he enjoyed seeing girls who went in costume. Because one, the outfits are sexy, and two, they obviously shared an interest and he might actually have a chance with them. Of course my response to him was, “Yeah, until you see they’re standing next to their boyfriend who’s dressed as The Punisher.” As that thought bubbled around, I started thinking of another James and his friend, and this story just came right out.
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I’m not big on recognized holidays. As I see it, they no longer have meaning. The Fourth of July is now an excuse to get drunk and blow something up. Thanksgiving and Christmas are days when we can say, “See, our society isn’t so bad. We made sure the homeless got a hot meal.” So starting in college I started celebrating my own holidays. I only have a few. There’s Writing Day when I focus on my writing (Duh!), Published Day (see “Happy Anniversary”), Blessed Lunatics Day which is complicated and personal, and another personal day I don’t have a name for, but it is really easy for me to remember because it also happens to be Judgement Day, August 29.
While I have my own June 13th, it was only a day to … I didn’t dread it but I didn’t look forward to it. That is, until I was writing this story and realized I should make it a holiday as well, to celebrate the women who have changed my life.
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This is a true story that I wrote a couple of years ago. The reason I’m putting it up now is because – despite Plategate – they are getting married this weekend. And just in case you’re wondering, the dishes in question “disappeared” some time ago.
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This is just a long simmering rant that’s been building up in me for awhile. It was only a few days ago, but I can’t remember what the spark was that started me writing it. I must be getting old. Hmm, forgetting things, and ranting about the government. I must be …
The title comes from a famous saying from a Babylon 5 episode. It just seemed a perfect fit.
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I swore that I would not write a Paris Hilton story. But this one, just came to me and I wrote it out in ten minutes. Why must I be so weak?
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In the summer of 2006, I saw an article where these researchers statistically showed that the last person who everybody on the planet today is descendant from, lived only 2,000 to 5,000 years ago. Okay, an explanation that I hope works. If you looked at everybody’s family tree, you would see that each one is not unique; there is overlapping because there has been only a finite number of people. The further back in time you go, the more overlapping there is, until you get to the point where there is one man or woman who is in everybody’s family tree.
Now, the idea for the story came when I realized that we would all like to think that if this common ancestor was a man, that he was akin to King Arthur; wise, just, and brave. But in all likelihood, he was an illiterate farmer who beat his wife and kids, or worse, as I point out in my story. This is a truth of our past.
I wrote this story within a week or so of reading that article, but other things came up which is why it took a year to be published. And since Father’s Day is coming up, it seemed inappropriately appropriate.
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This is a Lisa and Dave story.
This story was inspired by an argument I had with an ex-girlfriend. I’ve simplified the beginning (because I did not feel like writing a novel) and the real argument only lasted up to when I asked, “How do you want me to answer this?” My girlfriend looked at me, then hugged me, and we never spoke of the matter again. For that reason, I consider it the one argument I actually won. But I knew that wasn’t the best ending for a story, so I invented the rest.
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This story started with next month. I had already started writing my June newsletter story, “Unhappy Anniversary,” when I realized I had forgotten the anniversary of me receiving the letter stating that “What Kind of Bliss is Ignorance?” would be published. Let me rephrase that. I did not forget it, I remembered it 364 days early. Anyway, it was those two events that just naturally led to “Happy Anniversary.”
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What’s the deal with the flags?
I know Memorial Day is supposed to be about honoring the men and women who have died in service to this country. But I think one of the side-effects of my writing science fiction is that I spend more time thinking of the future than of the past or present. As such, I know that there are many men and women – alive and yet to be born – who will be honored in future Memorial Days. My personal feeling is that we should appreciate them now, instead of honoring them when they are gone.
The origin of this story was a couple years ago when I saw a program about the Pearl Harbor attack. Part of it dealt with the salvage operations afterwards. These ranged from removing guns from the sunken ships to re-floating some and returning them to duty. The men who stormed the beaches at Normandy rightfully deserve recognition, but I feel that the contributions to the war effort of these divers fighting in oily water are just as important.
I knew I had to write a story about recovery divers for my universe, but it wasn’t until recently that this simple idea came to me.
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A clip of Bill O’Reilly on the immigration bill was sent to me by one of my MySpace friends. I know it is in bad form not to credit the sender, but I forgot who it was and had to YouTube the clip. So, my apologizes to whoever sent it to me in the first place.
After watching the clip, my first thought was, Wow, proof O’Reilly has lost all touch with reality. But the next day it just pissed me off. The reason being that O’Reilly seems to say that the people should kowtow to the parties – something I feel is deeply un-American.
Let me explain. O’Reilly claims that 20 million new Americans will be the end of the Republican Party. (I suggest he check his math.) My response is if the Republicans do as O’Reilly and write all these people off as “The Enemy” without even making any attempt to win new converts among them, then maybe the Republican Party deserves to be resigned to the dustbin of history.
America is changing. The population is growing older. It is moving from State A to State B. There is more diversity of ethnic, religious, economic and cultural backgrounds than ever before. That’s a fact. My question is, Shouldn’t the political parties be changing as well, to better serve this ever changing population? O’Reilly basically says that poor Hispanics are Democrats. To me that sounds as if poor Hispanics are “not welcomed” in the Republican Party, otherwise, why are they so content to write them off like that? Is the Republican ideology carved into stone so deep that any suggestion of change to reach out to a new group of people is shouted down as blasphemy? I deeply believe that any party that will not serve all the peoples of the United States deserves to lose. Period.
So anyway, I decided to write this little story describing the “real” reason Democrats want more Hispanics in the country. It is meant to be funny, and also to play into O’Reilly’s paranoia. The title comes from a Nazi slogan, “Ein Volk, Ein Reich, Ein Führer,” meaning, “One people, One empire, One leader,” and for some reason it just seemed to fit the story. Enjoy.
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There were a couple of news stories that merged in my mind (Don’t you love when that happens) and this story is the result. I will freely admit that I stole the title from a two-part Babylon 5 episode. I was debating a couple of other titles but what really clinched it for me was this quote from Part 2: “The war is never completely won. There are always new battles to be fought against the darkness. Only the names change.”
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This story started when I read “Comrades in Arms Fight to Preserve Afghan Monument” in the May 2, The Wall Street Journal. The article got me thinking about war memorials and I started wondering what memorial will be put for the Iraq War. I’m not thrilled with this story, if I had a month I could probably polish it up pretty good, but this is Weekly Stories, not Monthly Stories.
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“We have nothing to fear from clones; they will be no more or less human than the rest of us.”
That statement, taken from my story “Our Brothers and Sisters” pretty much sums up my feeling about clones. I mean, why do we fear them so much? Aren’t there enough deranged – uncloned – people out there that we should focus on?
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This story I wrote after being “tagged” by a friend on MySpace. I think it pretty much explains itself.
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After I read an article about Social Security running out of money in 2041, I realized that will be when I turn 65. That got me wondering if the politicians will “get around” to fixing it by then.
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I don’t know what to say about this story.
The American Red Cross assisted the students, families and emergency workers of the shooting at Virginia Tech.
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This story started when Iran announced they were expanding their uranium enriching capabilities. Everybody is so worried about Iran joining the nuclear club that – to me at least – they seem to miss the fact that Iran could hurt us far worse in other ways.
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Something that I’ve often wondered about is, “How do you tell someone to think for themselves? Can someone be said to be ‘thinking for themselves’ if they only do it because somebody else told them to?”
For awhile a couple of years ago, I put up flyers like the one in the story on a college campus I lived near. The whole point of the exercise – and story – was to point out that people pretty much just do what they’re told. Be it from a parent, a teacher, an advisor, a boss, a traffic sign, a flyer. The next night I would go back to the campus and all the flyers would be gone. Except once, when a flyer was crumpled, but then put back up.
A couple months ago, when I wrote this story, I revised my idea for the flyers. They are now 3X5 cards I run through my printer. I keep a few in my car, but it’s kind of hard to find nice bulletin boards any more. I made a trip back to that campus recently and found that one of the boards I had used had been replaced by an electronic bulletin board. I doubt the school would care to have, “Tear This Down!” scrolling around their big, expensive toy.
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This story started when I read the Yahoo article “Dozens killed in revenge attack in Iraq.” It made me ask myself, Did we remove one set of thugs to have them replaced by a new set?
Now, I support the military, and I do think that they did their job. The reason Iraq is such the mess it is now is because the politicians didn’t do their jobs. I know, that is so shocking.
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A friend at work was sick, and I was trying to think of some way to torment him, you know, to take his mind off his misery because that’s the kind of friend I am. And somehow, this story came out. For some reason, the last line just cracks me up. That’s the kind of guy I am.
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The idea for this story came rather quickly after reading the Yahoo article, “Study finds one-third in D.C. illiterate.” I started writing it, but didn’t get that far. The next night I couldn’t sleep, so I got up and figured I would just work on it, but I finished it. I knew I could tinker with it for a few days, but I wasn’t sure how long Yahoo would keep the article up, so I decided to post the story early. So if there is anything wrong with the story, any grammatical issues or things like that, it comes from me writing it basically in one sitting, reading through it a couple of times, and then putting it up. Let me see you do better.
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I wrote this story many years ago, but set it aside because I couldn’t think of anyplace that would publish it. But I’ll publish it.
I can’t remember how this story started, but I think it might have something to do with me wondering what the lamest superhero would be. I think Ahead-Back would be a contender.
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First off, Polireligionatics is a term I came up with describing when religion is crammed into politics. (I added the extra “a” to make it a tad more pronounceable.)
I had this idea of someone trying to get signatures to put an Atheist Party candidate on the ballot sometime last year, but I didn’t do anything with it; figuring I would just save it for the 2008 election. But right now the timing was just perfect for me to write this tale of atheism and politics. Next week, the Secular Coalition for America is going to announce the first openly “non-theist” member of Congress.
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While everyone was talking about the Stock Market on Tuesday, I was wondering about the Taliban’s attempt to kill Dick Cheney. What if it had succeeded? I asked myself. How would it have changed the world? For awhile I tried to remember the process for replacing a Vice President (The Twenty-Fifth Amendment, Section 2) and tried to come up with some story dealing with this. I was thinking how Machiavellian it would be if Bush nominated Condoleezza Rice to steal the thunder from Hillary and Barack in 2008. That almost sounds like a conspiracy, I thought, and “Parallel Opinions” was born.
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A friend of mine was always wondering what was up with George Lucas and the cutting off of limbs. Then one day, I just got this funny little idea and pounded out this story. I’m sure there is market for this type of story, but I haven’t been able to find them, mostly because I haven’t really been searching for them. But I figured my MySpace page was the perfect spot for it.
The original story is no longer online.
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There is something that I’ve known for years, and I think most people already know this: there are people who live in their own little world. As I said, I’ve know this for years, but what really started me on this story was when I read this guy’s MySpace blog where he said basically that before the white man came to North America, there was nothing here. Yes, there were a few savage Indians, but we “civilized them.” I did not know where to begin. At first I wanted to say something about The Iroquois Confederacy, but then I thought of asking, “Isn’t it funny that pretty much everybody in the world thinks that what they do is ‘civilized’ while what others do is ‘savage?’” But, then I realized there was a good change that he would just ignore the inconvenient historical fact, label me a whiny liberal, declare victory, and consider the matter closed.
But thinking about people being in their own little world led me to thinking about what if they were put in their own little world? I predict that they would quickly collapse. So that was what started me on this story.
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Sometimes, it’s good to be American.
This story was hastily written on account of the sentencing of Abdel Kareem Soliman, an Egyptian blogger who has been sentenced to three years in jail for insulting Islam, and one year for insulting President Hosni Mubarak.
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I posted this one early because I had it finished (this pretty much wrote itself over lunch) but also because it was still relevant. The whole Anna Nicole Smith thing isn’t going to go away in a week.
My personal feelings are pretty much summed up by Amanda, as well as Joe. I don’t know what else I need to say.
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I think the real impact of this story is in how difficult it is to write something that is current. I got the idea for this story on the Tuesday after the Super Bowl. I wrote it over the rest of the week. (Why did it take so long to write such a short thing? I had the basic idea, but trying to figure out the structure of the story, and to make it all fit, took some time.) When I put it up on my site Saturday afternoon, nobody probably cared. “What? The Super Bowl and the commercials? That is so six days ago.”
The only really good thing about this story; I can dust it off the week before the next Super Bowl. Then people will be amazed at my skill at writing something so “fresh” and “current.”
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What’s the deal with the flags?
This is a major event for me publication-wise, “How Many” is the first story from the Human Republic Universe to be published. Yeah! Hopefully, it won’t be the last. Check out my Human Republic page to get some more information about this humongous undertaking of mine.
Unlike almost all the stories I’ve written for this Universe, which are set decades or centuries before the series, “How Many?” takes place during Never Surrender. The idea began with the thought that during the second or third episode a crewman is watching the news and a clip from this briefing is played. I liked this idea so much, I decided to write that briefing.
The point I’m trying to make is that peace is a great idea, but unless everyone agrees to the terms, it isn’t practical. I know, what a cheerful thought. Anyway, an interesting point is that I originally had no other plans for Admiral Ng, but I had so much fun writing him in this story, that I’m sure I can make him a recurring minor character, if I can ever get the series going.
Stay tuned.
PS. For those who did not get the reference to “Peace for our time,” check out this Wikipedia article.
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This story is something that pretty much happened to me growing up a short drive from the middle of nowhere. The only real difference is that it was just me. The dialogue of the two brothers and the quoted father, are really just things that I thought.
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Probably the part I remembered most from Martin Luther King’s “I have a dream” speech was the following: “I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.” With all the troubles (what an euphemism) going on in the world today, I wondered what he was say today. So, I took several phrases and sentences from the speech, added some of my things in, and ended up with “Dreams.” I hope he wouldn’t be offended with my using his words.
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This is a Joe Story.
I like to think that I look at things differently than other people. Instead of falling into the trench warfare of most debates (over religion, politics, or war) I try to come at things from unusual angles. As I’ve stated before in my story History Lessons 2, “The simple truth I would like people to realize is that war is not right or wrong, black or white, Cut-and-Run or Stay-and-Die. These are too simplistic. War is a complicated, organized chaos. Anyone who tries to defend their views with such simplistic babblings are idiots at best, and deceivers at worst.”
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This started with the Pope. Every year the Pope makes a speech about hope for the new year. It has the standard hopes billions have had for centuries; the end of war, hatred, and the birth of a world where everyone can live in peace and harmony. I did not listen to the speech, I just heard about it. But it got me thinking, How long have they been doing this? It hasn’t worked yet. Maybe it’s time to try something new.
With these thoughts, I started down the road with several dark and depressing story ideas. (You may see them someday.) But I thought that to start off the new year, I should have a story that’s a little more uplifting. What I eventually came up with, was “Wishes.” It’s not an uplifting story, but I think it is a good story to start the year with.
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Except for the vacation days, beer, foam finger, air horn, and porn; this story pretty much follows my day of December 29, 2006. The more time I spent contemplating mourning one person’s death while awaiting another’s, the less I felt I had any answers. As I wrote the last sentence, it hit me that the feeling of not having any answers is probably the best description for 2006.
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I was kinda stuck writing a story for this week. Originally I was going to do a story bashing the media for their dealing of the climbers on Mount Hood. I am sorry for the families, but I did not need to hear about this every time I turned on my computer or the news. But the reason I didn’t write that was I realized that this would have been more of a rant than a story. I do want to put something in my stories to make you think, but I don’t want to just have rants with a few story elements thrown in. So I struggled for awhile trying to come up with some topic to write about. Then there was an incident (which would take too long to explain) that made me very angry. The way I got over my anger was doing some fun things and telling myself that nothing was being achieved with this anger. And then, out of that, came the idea for H. A.
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There is a British comedy called My Hero, which is kinda like Superman, except it’s British, and a comedy. Anyway, in one episode George (Thermoman) is going to his girlfriend’s (Janet) apartment and he sees people putting up decorations and trees. He thinks it some kind of alien invasion or something, but Janet explains that it’s a holiday to celebrate the birth of Jesus and how the trees are decorated and presents are put under them. So he asks something like:
“So, this Jesus bloke was born under a tree?”
“No.”
“Oh, but he had a thing for evergreens then?”
Janet pauses, “Actually, I don’t know if he ever saw one.”
To which George replies, “Well, that’s an odd way to celebrate the fellow’s birth, decorating trees he never saw.”What makes it so funny, is it’s true.
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With the release of the Iraq Study Group, I decided that I should do a story dealing with my feelings about the war in Iraq. I came up with two stories, which I’ll do over two weeks. I was rather lazy with the titles, just “History Lessons 1” and “History Lessons 2,” but I think they both contain important truths that people need to realize.
Click here to read “History Lessons 1.”
Click here to read “History Lessons 2.”
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I have to thank Walt Trizna, who’s in several book and writing groups with me, for giving me the spark for this story. At the last writing group meeting, somehow we started talking about computing power. Walt said something along the lines of, “We have all this computing power, and what do we do with it? Play games.” I believe it was the very next day, that one of those losers who had been waiting in line for a new PlayStation 3 for a couple days was shot. I’m not advocating the shooting of people just to get story ideas, but the blending of people with no lives (will the people who know me stop sniggering!) entertainment systems and violence lead to “It’s Only a Matter of Time.”
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This is a true story; it actually happened to me at the Wizard World Convention in Philadelphia in 2005. How many of you Star Wars geeks out there can top this?
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Part of the genesis for this story came several years ago when I saw an interview around this time of year with an Indian chief who said that Thanksgiving was a day of mourning for them. It makes me wonder if that is what white people will be saying about Cinco de Mayo in fifty years. My hope for this story was to try to draw some parallels between immigration of today, with the immigration of a few centuries ago. You may wonder what my take on the immigration issue of today is? Well, I guess I’m a cynical observer sitting on the sidelines knowing the issue is complex and that all the oversimplified solutions that are being offered will not work; but being unable to come up with something better. At least I will admit that.
I posted this a couple of days early because a Thanksgiving story should be read before all the leftovers are gone, and also because I’d probably be away from my computer for a couple of days.
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I wrote this back when, once again, the flag burning amendment was being talked about and voted on. I wanted to slap congress. Seriously, with everything that was going on, why was that an issue? I understand that it can be an emotional issue for some people, but there are thousands of more serious problems out there that don’t get as much attention as flag burning. And, if you can’t tell, I strongly believe things should be different.
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I’m breaking my rule of writing a story based on something that happened during the week of the story. I’m doing it because I just had to write something about this. Just two days after the election that felt like it would never end, Tom Vilsack announced his candidacy for the Democratic Party nomination for President of the United States. I felt like screaming, “Make it stop!” But the worst thing, after I wrote the story, I sat down to write this and wanted to make sure I got this guy’s name right. After a few dead ends, I ended up on Wikipedia where I found that he was actually the second Democrat and at least the fourth person overall to file the necessary paperwork.
And they wonder why people are sick of politics. We finally make it through a slug-fest of an election thinking – hoping – that we will get a break from the mudslinging, and the stupid commercials, and the annoying phone calls, but they’ve already started running for the next one. I think there should be a law that you can only run for an office beginning one year before the actual election. That way they would be forced to do some work instead of just run for reelection.
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I can’t remember if this was the first flash fiction story I wrote, or if it was just one of the first. To have it finally be published is just a thrill.
The story involves a risk some people take without actually thinking about it. These risk takers are the people who have themselves cryogenically frozen. The risk they probably don’t think about, is that the people in the future might not want them.
It appears their archive system is messed up, so you can’t find it online right now.
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This started when I read an article about how it is now thought that elephants are self-aware. Apparently, there are only four species that when one of them sees themselves in a mirror know that it is them and not someone else. These four species are humans, chimps, dolphins, and now elephants. On the one hand I support these tests because I think it is important for us to learn to recognize intelligence in all its forms. But on the other hand I just can’t help but think, Are we, as a species, so smart that we can judge others?
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This is just a simple idea that many people will probably find offensive. Given how large a role Jesus is given in American politics today, what if he was given similar treatment when he was alive?
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On October 17, the 300 millionth American was statistically born, or immigrated, or something. This was something everyone knew was coming, but it seemed nothing was planned for it. Back in 1967, Life magazine heralded a boy named Bobby Woo as the “unofficial” 200 millionth American. Something like that didn’t happen this time, because of all the controversy over immigration – at least, that’s what I read somewhere. But anyway, what would happen if this unknown person was made famous just because of when they were born? “By the Numbers,” is the story that came out when I thought of that.
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A couple of years ago I was at the library, and I saw a girl pick up a penny and announce to nobody in particular, that she had one dated 2098. Her mother corrected her, and that was it. It wasn’t until five or ten seconds later, that the phrase, “Those are very rare,” came to mind. Even if I had thought of it in time, I was too far away to have said it. So I wrote this story instead.
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This started in response to the border wall, and originally was going to be about the world putting up a wall around the US to keep our fast food, and “American culture” from infecting the rest of the world, but then it went on a different path.
Now, some will read this and come away thinking that I hate America. I’ll reply that I’m a student of history. Rome was the greatest power in the world; yet it fell. Why will America be different? I am honest enough to admit that someday America will fade, even fall. But to steal a line, there is no shame in that, no dishonor. It is the natural order of things.
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I guess this story really started when a couple of weeks ago I saw a headline along the lines of “Doctor says kids should play more.” I skimmed the story and I guess the point this doctor was trying to make was that forcing kids to stay in the classroom won’t make them learn more. You need to let them run and play and all that. I didn’t really do anything with that because I was thinking Those lousy kids. Sticking adults in a cubicle all day won’t make us work harder. We’re the ones who really need recess.
Anyway, that was in the back of my mind when I read this week that some schools have banned playing tag because they are afraid that a kid might get hurt and their parents will sue the school. True, it’s been a couple decades since I played tag, but I don’t remember it being a full-contact sport. This got me thinking Why don’t we just strap the kids into the desks so they don’t get hurt. This story came from that.
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This started in my high school debate class. One of the debates (in which I played no part) was on allowing gays in the military. I sat in the audience and watched each side make, in my opinion, very weak arguments. I wondered if I could come up with something better. A couple of months later, it hit me that the Holocaust didn’t just start overnight. It built up over years during which more and more oppressive laws against Jews were passed. What does that have to do with gays? We don’t want them in the military. We don’t want them to marry. We don’t want them to adopt kids. We don’t want them in the churches. We don’t want them to … I could go on. I am not saying that those who oppose gays are the equals of the Nazis; it is their right as an American to believe as they wish. I am just asking that they check to make sure their arguments are not just dressed up bigotry.
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With everything going on with North Korea, and Iran, and Iraq, and Afghanistan, and everywhere else, it does seem almost funny that a banker from Bangladesh would win the Nobel Peace Prize. It makes me wonder if those major world events that are in the news every night, really aren’t that important. Anyway, it was thinking about the Nobel Peace Prize, before it was awarded, that led me to write this story. I set the story in 2064 which, unfortunately, is probably way too optimistic. If only…
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This started when North Korea announced they would test a nuke, to ensure the US wouldn’t attack them. I started thinking about this, and I wrote the first third of the story, although the first draft was far more detailed. Then 1001 things came up, and I put this story on the back burner. I came up with some ideas, but I didn’t do any more writing until Saturday evening. (I try to update the stories early Sunday.) So I needed to finish the story, quickly, and sat down and started typing, and I’m not sure where the rest of the story came from. I’m not entirely sure where it was going either, but when I got to the last line, something told me to stop. And the story was finished. Isn’t writing wonderful?
This is a story that I need to go back to some day. I think it is an interesting idea, but it needs more than a week to fully flesh it out, and a better title. But I did warn that these would be my writing at it’s rawest, so I hope you enjoy your stories a little bloody. That doesn’t really sound the way I meant it.
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This started when I was wondering, “What is it about humans that would make the aliens cross interstellar space to come to Earth?” After some thought, I came up with this story, which I think has a little twist from the norm. Now, I’ll admit, after I finished the story, I went back and added on the beginning, so that when you learn what happens to the main character, you just go, “Ah, he deserved it.”
The original story is no longer online.
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The sad thing is, I spent more time trying to think of a title for this story than I actually spent writing it.
This started with a brouhaha over the war in Iraq. I can’t say it was the latest, because there were four or five brouhahas last week. Before I go on, let me tell you where I stand on certain things. I despise politicians; left and right. I feel that they put themselves, their party, and the people who bought their election first. What is best for “We the People,” comes in a distant fourth. It should NOT be that way. And if given the choice between “Cut and run,” or “Stay and die,” I say, “Can’t we find a third option? One that has a better chance of success?” Anyway, this brouhaha got me thinking and reminded me in a roundaboutish way of a realization I had a couple of weeks ago; if Bush came up with this third, better choice, few people would listen to him because of everything that has already happened. Being correct means nothing if you’re not effective.
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This comes out of everything that has happened recently between Israel, Hezbollah, Iran, and everyone else in the middle east. Where will it end? Will it end? What actions by what people will change history, either for the better or the worse?
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This started with Anousheh Ansari, the first female space tourist. Not to dismiss what she is doing (as I write this, she is still at the International Space Station) but she has boldly gone where hundreds have been. Is that still news?
One of the tenets of science fiction, I think, is to take something from the real world, and just invert it. I started thinking what kind of story could you get if hundreds of years from now, a Martian tourist came to Earth. That was where I started this story. I don’t know how it turned into this.
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This story started when I was thinking about the two week media circus leading up to the fifth anniversary of 9-11. I started wondering what would happen on future anniversaries. So I started with a crying woman standing at the memorial on Ground Zero, and a young girl. Somehow, from that, came the story.
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This is a story that, I don’t believe this is what will actually happen, but I think the general idea behind the story will happen. It is an extremely depressing thought, but it is one we may have to deal with.
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There is a saying about how people should live their lives. It is one of those things that sounds really good, until you take a deeper look at it. I think I pointed this out to a friend once, with the example of what I would use in the story. From there it was just a simple matter of adding a few details, and a story was born.
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A couple years ago I had a writing group that included a couple friends of mine. Each month we would come up with some idea or exercise and then write something for the next meeting. One idea, which if I remember correctly was somewhat confusing at the time, was to imagine Person X writes a biography of you, and Person Y writes an Introduction to the biography. The exercise was to write the introduction. The following is a slightly revised version of what I wrote. The biggest revision was adding in the comment about Buffet, which is the title of a collection of short stories I’m working on.
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There was a pretty cool guy I used to work with who was a born again Christian. We had numerous religious conversations, him trying to get me to read the Bible, me, well, me just usually listening and pointing out little observations, and thinking. I believe, as one of the characters in the story says, that “You can’t make someone change their believes by a frontal assault. You need to be sneaky.” When he went to another job, I was working on a way to not attack his believes, but show that some people who share his believes are nuts. The idea was that what he did after that, was his business. My timing isn’t always that great, so it was no surprise that a couple of weeks after he left, I came up with the idea I use in this story.
I have to admit, I reeeallly enjoyed writing the line, “That’s what it means to have a girlfriend.”
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Years ago I read somewhere about this engineering study paid for by some oil company, about ways to cool the Earth if global warming actually happened. One of the proposals was to launch I don’t know how many tons of material, sand I think, and spread it in a shroud around the planet to act as a sun screen. My thought when I read that was, “And how many trillions of dollars will that cost? Fast forward five or six years, and I saw a program about how global warming may actually be worse than we think. We’ve had a little break because all the soot and other pollution in the air has been acting like a small sun screen. But now, after years of regulating what comes out of smokestacks, the levels of soot are decreasing. On one hand that is good, on the other... there goes our accidental sun screen.
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This story started with a simple statement of almost certain fact: eventually, a human will be cloned. Then what? It isn’t something that has made it into the platforms of the major parties, but I support Clone Rights. They will be no more or less human then the rest of us, and the sooner we accept that, the better it will be, for them.
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I truly think that if this show actually aired, the guy would receive a great deal of hate mail and probably a death threat or two. That is not an observation on Christians or Christianity, but an observation on people. In every group of people; Christians, Muslims, Atheists, Republicans, Democrats, one-legged guys named Joe, there will be a few nutcases. The question is, will the rest of the group let these few speak for them?
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Years ago I worked the night shift at a gas station. Some nights it was great, I would go an hour or so without a customer and I was able to catch up on my reading. But other nights.... On one particularly bad night, at one point I said to myself, “Just give me five minutes with a sledgehammer, and I’ll feel a whole hell of a lot better.”
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This was NOT inspired by V for Vendetta. I got the idea about a year before the movie came out, and I never read the comic. It started when I realized that most, if not all, of our elected officials deserve to have the crap beat out of them. That is not an opinion; it’s a statement of fact. Since the stick of, “if-you-don’t-do-a-good-enough-job-We-won’t-vote-for-you-and-you-won’t-be-reelected,” doesn’t seem to be working, maybe we need to start using a real stick.
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In the summer of 2006, a business in Philadelphia did something that was controversial, and for several reasons, idiotic. I debated about whether or not I should explain what the business did, but then that pretty much gives away the punch line. So hopefully you’ll have heard the story, and know what I’m talking about. If not, I’ll just hope you enjoy the story as it is.
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I oppose any attempt to make flag burning illegal, not because I’m a damned hippie or anything, but because there is no real way to enforce it. The idea in the story, not original, is that once this “flag” as been burned and can no longer be entered in as evidence, how can you prove that it was a real flag?
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This started when I wrote what would become the opening quote, “Attributed to Fyal of Arzoy.” The thought behind it was that we, as a species, think we are the pinnacle of achievement. I mean, that’s why all the aliens look like us. But I feel that this false sense of superiority, of being special, will probably be our undoing. I do fear that our future is to just end up being a footnote in an alien textbook.
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This is a revised version of a story I had published about a year earlier.
The idea, of course, comes from the brouhaha over the Ten Commandments monument put up in Alabama by Roy Moore. As I watched the protestors crying over a two-ton block of granite and denouncing the evil secularists, I got to wondering what Jesus would do if he came back at that moment. Would he join the protestors? After thinking about it for a few seconds, I decided, no he wouldn’t. He would probably take a look at them, and then go, “Okay, you people can stay here and argue over a rock, but I’m going to go heal some sick people. See ya.” And somehow, this is the story that came from that.
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This was originally for one of the writing groups I’m in. One of our members was moving away, and as a tribute, everyone in the group wrote a story. The stories were based on a quote, and I got the Marx quote used in the story. The original version of the story was pretty good, but when I started revising it for my Silent Steve’s Stories column, I realized that it was almost all telling with very little showing. I made some small changes, but in the end I pretty much rewrote the whole thing. But I think it was an improvement.
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This story is based on something that happened to me in college. One afternoon I was catching up on an electronics lab with my partner, when this other physics guy came in and asked her out. This may not sound like much, but he didn’t just ask, “What to go out?” He beat around the bush asking her out without asking her out and she beat around the bush of saying yes without saying yes. This may still not sound like much but I was the *&$%#$@ BUSH because I was sitting between them. And it was a situation where I couldn’t just get up and leave. I was an innocent victim in the horrors of dating.
(Since it isn’t online anywhere, I’ve set it up on a page of its own.)
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The idea, of course, comes from the brouhaha over the Ten Commandments monument put up in Alabama by Roy Moore. As I watched the protestors crying over a two-ton block of granite and denouncing the evil secularists, I got to wondering what Jesus would do if he came back at that moment. Would he join the protestors? After thinking about it for a few seconds, I decided, no he wouldn’t. He would probably take a look at them, and then go, “Okay, you people can stay here and argue over a rock, but I’m going to go heal some sick people. See ya.” And somehow, a story that came from that.
The original story is no longer online.
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This is another one of those stories where if I try to explain it, it gives it away. But to give you something, here is the first line, “It’s embarrassing when someone walks in on you masturbating; it’s even worse when it is yourself.” I’ll just leave you trying to wrap your brain around that.
(Since it isn’t online anywhere, I’ve set it up on a page of its own.)