The Snake is a standing wave with chaotic interference making it warble.
We Made Us
At some point in our future we wanted to see once and for all whether or not life was Created or evolved spontaneously. The only suitable way was to make a universe in the laboratory, and see what happened. But then, someone had to _observe_ the results, didn't they?
In the process of observation, the observer changed the state of the newly born cosmos and
There we were. Again.
We Made Us
I want money, and the pursuit of it, and the love of it, and the problems inherent with it to become obsolete. Meaning that it becomes so cumbersome that when the opportunity arises, people will slough it off like dead skin. And hopefully not Goldmember it.
"Knit with Bridges.
Yarn of asphault and steel.
Yarn of wood and moss.
Two hands by Two needles drawing space kneeding time, a pull a tuck a twist the motion--
Some say the work of sure hands can survive being trampled upon.
History is full of judgments to the ________ and/or in support of _________
Others happily dance the threshold."
How soon til we hit the post-scarcity future? What will it take to make money obsolete? Is such a concept really possible with domesticated primates?
Laying on his stomach in a peculiar arrangement that had not been seen at the Larryville Memorial Hospital in recent memory, Joe Bob handled the meaty mounds of flesh that had once comprised his ass. They made a slightly humorous clap-clopping sound as he slapped the separated buttocks together like a pair of fleshy cymbals.
He was distressed at their softness.
It’s a story about parallels, about symmetry, as the name implies.
Jack Loenman develops a working quantum computer, QC. Starts running Deep Simulations. Searching for the exact structure of the various space-time scales. The nature of these investigations have the unknown-to-him-as-yet-capacity for changing reality. He turns a teacup into a gold brick. That sort of thing.
Jack Simmons hits the breaks, narrowly avoiding a pileup with the wayward sports truck that was so anxious about leaving the library parking lot just off of 7th and Vermont.
“So,” said Gordon, over the sound of breaking waves, “You want to tell me what’s going on?” They were out in the middle Lake Michigan now, Gordon having tied a load of scrip to the doors of the motorboat rental office while the sugar cube broke the encryption on one of the speedier models, and were following a course that Invisible Rockmore dictated, making slight course corrections along the way.
“A supposition, Gordon,” said Invisible Rockmore, not needing to shout.
“That’s like a hunch, right?”
Gordon had his afternoon work cut out for him. His cellcomp was dead, it’s battery burned out by the pulse, and so he needed a replacement. That would be remedied soon enough, as it appeared the morning’s events had not effected the ‘L’, he could still hear it roaring past like clockwork several blocks away. Get out of the pulse radius again, hop the L to the nearest communications co-op, then get the window replacement order in.