Welp, I missed February, for many reasons, but my favorite reason is because it’s just so short. Perhaps I still missed my ‘deadline’ of the 23rd, but hey, I’m busy. Life gets in the way, life finds a way. A la Jurassic Park.
I saw this hellfire horror on instagram and since I did, you must as well. It’s a company called Clone, and they are creating the most hideous Stephen King-WestWorld mash of fucking freaky I never wanted to think about. Even their website has one of these clone hands holding a syringe. No. Just No. All of it. Fuck No.
So welcome to America 2.0 where Fascism is getting a makeover from Nazi Germany into the 21st century of decay. Imagine the trump administration and Elon using these Clone motherfuckers to ‘engage’ protesters. I have got to stop thinking of things for these sad lifeforms called humans to do to us.
Which brings to me a point of my own writing, idea. Idea itself and how they really can sprout in people. Take Elon Musk for example, his favorite novel is The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress by Robert Heinlein. It’s about a moon colony fighting for their rights like America did-sort of. So they win and become their own country, on the moon, and there’s a girl that wears blackface, and a bunch of libertarian bullshit and completely ignoring healthcare by saying moon people live really long so you don’t need any. So that’s basically what he wants to do with Mars, someday…
Soooo, are we writers just putting these fucked up ideas into people’s heads and they actually make them reality? That idea blends my mind and insides. It makes me think that perhaps all this social commentary via science fiction storylines may actually help make the problems of our world worse, by giving out these ideas to Fascists. Ray Bradbury’s robot dog in Fahrenheit 451 is Boston Dynamics as of the 1980s (now owned by Honda). My very own Brian, Created Intelligence is sadly becoming reality. There are multiple companies harnessing human neurons to act like computer learning systems/‘AI’ without any cause of fear or morality based on the humanness of their study, and the monstrousness of what they are doing by studying. It’s fucking frightening. So do we writers just do that old saying of what cranky old men think they are supposed to do? Keep it deep down inside and never talk about it? I just don’t see how. Art is inspired by life, but life also takes that art and becomes.
Life imitates art, and the reverse.
Art, creativity, is a raw passion of the human spirit. How could we ever tame that? Ever keep it within bounds? How could we ever say no, I will not speak of this atrocity, of this injustice, of this issue we face. Silence is violence. We must speak. Perhaps our world may be getting worse for now, but hopefully in the long run, it gets better. We must act together for that to happen.
For more grim and dark and bloody, I’m reading LordGrimDark himself’s novel, A Little Hatred (Joe Abercrombie), and it is just what I need right now. He is a brilliant novelist, and it’s about a bloody social revolution and revolting against the king and oligarchy. Free Luigi already.
I have not heard shit about my novel Exoputians in the Self Published Science Fiction Contest (SPSFC4) yet, but good news for my friend Jim, his novel (which I shared here previously) The Long Home of the Soul has made it through to the semifinals. Congratulations Jim, you definitely earned it!
Personal review: I am still training for this damn half ironman, and will race in early April. The amount of training is immense (I biked 46 miles yesterday), especially with a baby and wife at home. I just want to hang out with my family, but the personal goals one must have to deal with life nudge you at times, and this is one of those times. Ugh. It will be over soon. And then I will be on my way to editing DreamState finally. My personal life has a lot going on, and push comes to shove, is more important than this thing here. You must either create your boundaries or you will find them as you live on. I’ve done sort of both.
Thank you all for reading this, whatever this is, and I will hope to write to you on March 23 as well. Until then, cheers and maybe call your rep if you live in the freest country on earth—or something like that.
AJ Pagan IV
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