On Capitalism and its Frankensteins
I've been rather distressed over the past two decades watching our society driving, at increasing speed, towards a brick wall. It started with the climate crisis, but now we can…
Hard Of
I think the phrase “hard of hearing” is rather fascinating. It doesn’t make any intuitive sense. While we can think of it in the sense of something having hardened and…
The tall, dark wizard in the blue robe with white stars—who Evan would come to know as Falstaff—
plucked the slurpee off Evan’s tray with long boney fingers. He peered deep into its sugary murk. “Explain this foul potion. What are its effects?” “It’s called a slurpee,” Evan…
Above-Average post
I've been somewhat obsessed with mental fallacies ever since I read The Undoing Project, Michael Lewis's book on Amos Tversky and Danny Kahneman. (These led me to two other great…
The New, New Thing by Michael Lewis – Book Review
Even as 'startup-culture' and the unending quest for "unicorns" has spread across the globe, The New New Thing somehow still presents a fresh and brutally honest look at the cultures, personalities and economics of the tech upheavals brought upon us by people who can never have enough.
The Accounts
Baby,
you may know about the Devil
who sits upon my shoulder
and the Angel
on my other
But let me tell you about
the Accountant who sits
behind his mahogany desk
perched atop my skull
A Good Day
One daysomething happenedand the Reaper of Darkness calledin sick to workHe swung open the medicine cabinetand spilled all his pills to the floorBlue ones to calm him downGreen ones to…
A SILHOUETTE LOOMED OVER EVAN. FROM SOMEWHERE, A DISTANT, UNPLEASANT VOICE—ONE HE RECOGNIZED—SPOKE:
“Hey kid. Kid. Wake up.”
Evan stirred, the world coming into focus: the dark walls and ceiling of the Attic’s storefront, the towering bookshelves of games, a smacking sound as the figure hovering over him slapped at Evan’s cheeks. Evan’s bones and back groaned. Then Evan groaned at the sight of the City Surveyor’s weasel face.
Hyperion / Fall of Hyperion:
I have a rule about finishing books I’m not enjoying. Don’t. I have another rule about bad reviews, which is that I try to avoid writing them. So I'm breaking…
THE VENT WAS TIGHT AND HOT. LIKE THE AIR-CON WASN’T WORKING… LIKE THIS WASN’T PART OF THE SHOW AND…
…they shouldn’t be in here.
“Hurry up,” Chiroko complained, her scrawny butt slinking ahead through the vent’s din light. Hiroshi was tired of her scrawny, bossy butt and all her what-ifs and her plans. All they needed to do was wait it out in their cell and try to be entertaining. Yet here he was, following her.
Or maybe this was part of the show? Perhaps the months and months of meagreness and monotony had been meant to drive them from their misery, up into the vents towards some sort of thrilling conclusion or escalation or clash!
Hiroshi steeled himself for such an outcome.
But if that was the case, where were all the cameras?
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