Wiretap transcript picks up after The Hammer returns from the diner’s restroom . . .
The Hammer: “So that’s the plan? Let me tell you, it sucks.”
Psycho-K: “No, it doesn’t. It’s gonna work.”
The Hammer: “Yeah, right up until the part where we get nailed at the docks.”
Psycho-K: “That ain’t gonna happen. You weren’t paying attention.”
The Hammer: “Well, I’m sure the rest of it was nice. I kind of focused on the part that was crap.”
Unknown Voice (possibly Gentleman Johnny? Cross-reference with clues below): “Will you two just—“
Psycho-K: “Oh, yeah, I forgot your incredible power of focus.”
The Hammer: Taps table. “Like a f***ing laser, baby.”
Unknown Voice: “Seriously, this constant bickering grows tiresome. I could be pursuing my own goals--”
The Hammer: Snorts. “Give me a break. Like that pays the bills.”
Unknown Voice: “What is that supposed to imply—“
Psycho-K: “Wait, I’m getting a mental impression here. A definite message. ‘I could be knocking off another museum and stealing a bunch of useless old shit nobody can fence.’”
The Hammer: Laughs. “’Oh, but first I have to pick the gayest possible thing to steal. Diamond-studded eggs?”
Psycho-K: “Statues of naked guys with no johnsons?”
Unknown Voice: “You can both pucker up and kiss my ass, you ignorant Neanderthals.”
Psycho-K: “Hey, I’m sorry if we interrupted your art collecting to offer you a chance to make actual money.”
The Hammer: “You mean to offer us a ticket back to prison.”
Jostling of silverware, rustling of clothing.
The Hammer: “What are you doing down there, man?”
Psycho-K: “I’m just looking for your balls, man.”
Unknown Voice: Voice muffled. “Wonderful. Here we go again.”
Psycho-K: “Just sayin’, you seem to be lacking in the cojones department all of a sudden.”
The Hammer: “Pointing out the huge gaping hole in your piece of shit plan is not—“
Psycho-K: Calls to the waitress. “Miss? Have you seen a pair of balls lying around anywhere? Big brass ones? My friend here seems to have lost his.”
The Hammer: “Fine, a**hole. You wanna go? Is that it? You wanna test the invulnerability again? Just say the word.”
Unknown Voice: “With great power comes great stupidity.”
Psycho-K: “Hey, don’t lose it with me because you’re afraid.”
The Hammer: “Afraid? I’ll leave the Gauntlets of Mars in the car, mother-f*****. How about that?”
Psycho-K: “You’re not afraid of getting hurt, amigo. That would be like me being worried about satisfying the ladies. You’re afraid of going back to stir.”
The Hammer: “And you want to go back? Hate to tell you, that doesn’t make me afraid, it makes you stupid.”
Psycho-K: Shakes his head. “Hell, no, I don’t want to go back. But I’m sure as s*** not going to live ducking my head and shuffling my feet hoping that the Man or the capes don’t notice me. Think about who you are, brother. You keep doing this small-time s***, people are going to think you up and died." Pause. "Back me up here, G.”
Unknown Voice: “He’s right about one thing. You can’t hide your light under a bushel.”
The Hammer: “How are you falling for this? You're the one with a college education.”
Unknown Voice: “I’m serious. Either you do these things, live this life we’ve chosen, or you don’t. You go straight. If you can, perhaps that’s the wisest course of action. But I can’t walk the path of the straight and narrow. I've tried. Leave aside the money and the material things I covet. I can’t give up the thrill, the edge, that sweet taste that comes when you get dealt a winning hand and actually beat one of those holier-than-thou spandex bastards. And you, you’ve sipped that nectar so many more times than have I. You can’t hope to replicate that sort of thrill unless you face true challenges to your ability.”
Psycho-K: "Time to step up to the big show again, my brother."
The Hammer: Sighs. "I don't know."
Psycho-K: "C'mon man, you know you want to say it." Pounds table. "It's Hammer Time, baby!"
Unknown Voice: "Could you possibly attract more attention, you amped up . . . ."
Coffee believed to have spilled on the surveillance device. Transcript ends.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Feeling a Bit Better
Got a decent exercise program started, done a few different volunteering things with the kids recently, tried to ease up on the critical self-talk. So I'm feeling a little better.
Facing a tricky decision about my upcoming birthday. I have one of the shorter wish lists that I have ever compiled, which is good. But times are tight, so I have to decide between getting some expensive free weights that will allow me to make increases in very small increments (which I think will be psychologically and physically better for me, making steady progress without overtaxing some of my joints) and getting a graphic novel that completes a series I've collected, a book on language and magic, and a subscription to the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.
I can see the magazine subscription and the book as further explorations of my efforts to write (testing a likely writing market and developing my understanding of some topics relevant to my current writing interests), while the weights would be part of my physical maintenance and development. Honestly, the physical side is easier to see gains in, though it is more expensive.
Whatever I do, I'm trying to stick with a clear budget for the year.
In another sense my recent sense of improvement has come from what I've let go of. I haven't been blogging as much or with as much effort, which has been good. When nobody really reads your blog--and only one person reads mine with any frequency--it becomes essentially a journal. And there shouldn't be pressure to maintain that. I started altering how I wrote the blog to make it more accessible to people and the result was that it was more time consuming and stressful to write and I can't say I got any more hits, even from immediate family and close friends.
I think the blog and the website held the false promise of gaining readers and others interested in my ideas. But honestly, there is just too much noise out there on the web. I don't stand out and few people have ever expressed much interest in what I have to say, in part because I'm not blogging about everyday issues or seeking to become a clearinghouse of information for certain topics. So I can understand people not having the time or inclination to look. I don't read that many blogs written by other people.
I think I'll keep making some updates to my web site over time as the urge takes me. But so far the Internet has been kind of a lonely experience.
Facing a tricky decision about my upcoming birthday. I have one of the shorter wish lists that I have ever compiled, which is good. But times are tight, so I have to decide between getting some expensive free weights that will allow me to make increases in very small increments (which I think will be psychologically and physically better for me, making steady progress without overtaxing some of my joints) and getting a graphic novel that completes a series I've collected, a book on language and magic, and a subscription to the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction.
I can see the magazine subscription and the book as further explorations of my efforts to write (testing a likely writing market and developing my understanding of some topics relevant to my current writing interests), while the weights would be part of my physical maintenance and development. Honestly, the physical side is easier to see gains in, though it is more expensive.
Whatever I do, I'm trying to stick with a clear budget for the year.
In another sense my recent sense of improvement has come from what I've let go of. I haven't been blogging as much or with as much effort, which has been good. When nobody really reads your blog--and only one person reads mine with any frequency--it becomes essentially a journal. And there shouldn't be pressure to maintain that. I started altering how I wrote the blog to make it more accessible to people and the result was that it was more time consuming and stressful to write and I can't say I got any more hits, even from immediate family and close friends.
I think the blog and the website held the false promise of gaining readers and others interested in my ideas. But honestly, there is just too much noise out there on the web. I don't stand out and few people have ever expressed much interest in what I have to say, in part because I'm not blogging about everyday issues or seeking to become a clearinghouse of information for certain topics. So I can understand people not having the time or inclination to look. I don't read that many blogs written by other people.
I think I'll keep making some updates to my web site over time as the urge takes me. But so far the Internet has been kind of a lonely experience.
Friday, February 20, 2009
The Big 4-0
I just wrote a lot of words in a lengthy draft about how I feel with my 40th birthday rapidly approaching. I don't know if I'll post that or not.
Distilled to its essence: I feel like I've lost more than I've gained in the past ten years. Professionally, physically ("loss" here applies in terms of overall health and well-being, not weight), and socially.
The steady state: I continue to have a loving and supportive relationship with my wife. I love my parents and they are a great comfort to me. I'm fortunate to have very wonderful in-laws, which is a blessing many people don't share. I had all these things ten years ago (well, I wasn't married yet, but the relationship was still there and strong) and I would say they have had more ups than downs in the past decade.
The big improvements: The addition of my son and daughter, who are wonderful and interesting people as well as beloved children.
The losses: Friends and family left behind, with no new friends to show for eight years of living here--at least nobody close enough to invite to my birthday party or who would think to send me a card. A freelance career that is wildly unpredictable, provides little professional camaraderie, and pays sporadically in place of a challenging but rewarding career where I had gained the respect of the majority of my peers and bosses. Nagging injuries that assault me everywhere-- shoulder, wrist, ankles, knees, hip, and back--sidelining every workout program I've embarked upon for the past two years. A city, Boise, whose sole advantage over Austin is that the traffic is better here (surprising how far that edge will go to making life more enjoyable, but Boise is just never going to be as cool as Austin). The opportunity to pursue my writing has led to fewer tangible results and more disappointment in my lack of achievement than I expected.
The plan: I'm going to keep searching for workout regimens that my body will tolerate, lowering my sights a bit and trying to include as much stretching as possible. I'm also trying to reconcile myself to a certain amount of aches and pains. I'm going to try to stop beating myself up about the writing, write when I feel like it and read more stuff that I like. I'm going to try to enjoy my time with my kids more. As for friends, I honestly have no idea at this point how to find like-minded folks up here. I think I'd settle for more casual friends. Also I'm going to take a stab at reading some more self-help stuff that I already own and relaxing myself mentally. A lot of it boils down to being more pro-active.
So wish me luck looking on the bright side and enjoying my birthday.
Distilled to its essence: I feel like I've lost more than I've gained in the past ten years. Professionally, physically ("loss" here applies in terms of overall health and well-being, not weight), and socially.
The steady state: I continue to have a loving and supportive relationship with my wife. I love my parents and they are a great comfort to me. I'm fortunate to have very wonderful in-laws, which is a blessing many people don't share. I had all these things ten years ago (well, I wasn't married yet, but the relationship was still there and strong) and I would say they have had more ups than downs in the past decade.
The big improvements: The addition of my son and daughter, who are wonderful and interesting people as well as beloved children.
The losses: Friends and family left behind, with no new friends to show for eight years of living here--at least nobody close enough to invite to my birthday party or who would think to send me a card. A freelance career that is wildly unpredictable, provides little professional camaraderie, and pays sporadically in place of a challenging but rewarding career where I had gained the respect of the majority of my peers and bosses. Nagging injuries that assault me everywhere-- shoulder, wrist, ankles, knees, hip, and back--sidelining every workout program I've embarked upon for the past two years. A city, Boise, whose sole advantage over Austin is that the traffic is better here (surprising how far that edge will go to making life more enjoyable, but Boise is just never going to be as cool as Austin). The opportunity to pursue my writing has led to fewer tangible results and more disappointment in my lack of achievement than I expected.
The plan: I'm going to keep searching for workout regimens that my body will tolerate, lowering my sights a bit and trying to include as much stretching as possible. I'm also trying to reconcile myself to a certain amount of aches and pains. I'm going to try to stop beating myself up about the writing, write when I feel like it and read more stuff that I like. I'm going to try to enjoy my time with my kids more. As for friends, I honestly have no idea at this point how to find like-minded folks up here. I think I'd settle for more casual friends. Also I'm going to take a stab at reading some more self-help stuff that I already own and relaxing myself mentally. A lot of it boils down to being more pro-active.
So wish me luck looking on the bright side and enjoying my birthday.
Review: Shadow Cities
The full title is Shadow Cities: A Billion Squatters, A Urban New World by Robert Neuwirth. Interesting—the author spent time living in squatter communities in Rio de Janeiro, Mumbai, Nairobi, and Istanbul, comparing and contrasting the experiences of the inhabitants and how they are treated by the legal system.
In Rio de Janeiro the squatters have won many concessions from city authorities. Some of the older favelas are hooked up to city utilities and one even has a paved public street running through a large portion of it. Newer squatters still stuffer many hardships in more primitive settlements, and it is hardly a pampered life, but there is a huge amount of entrepreneurial energy and creativity being displayed on a daily basis in these communities. The one thing that seemed odd was that the role of the narcotics trafficking gangs, which I had been led to believe was rather significant, is downplayed here.
In Nairobi, conditions are much, much worse, with most people living in homes made of mud, some with metal roofs (though it is mentioned that these are very hot and uncomfortable). There is open sewage everywhere and access to clean water is difficult. Here the corruption of the local tribal and city authorities and the impotence of the international aid agencies is heavily emphasized. The legal system is set up to prevent squatters from expanding their own homes and efforts to bring even basic infrastructure services into the slums are defeated by the avarice of politicians and contractors, who pocket the money without finishing the work. Many city leaders actually own mud homes in the squatter communities which they rent out to families, generating solid returns on a literally dirt cheap investment. It all works to undermine community and individual efforts to improve conditions and start businesses, though there are some success stories. All in all the impression is of dignified people struggling to get by in squalor.
Conditions are hard in Mumbai as well. Here there is a political movement to empower the squatter population, though it seems to do relatively little for them. People display the same drive and creativity as seen in the Rio favelas, but the government has a bit of a schizophrenic attitude toward them. Slums that get built up may be torn down for development. There are programs in place to provide public housing for displaced squatters, which is progressive, but the concrete tenement houses offered by the government offer something like 200 square feet per relocated family, which is less space than most people not living on the street possess. And the tenants are prevented from improving or customizing these apartments. So many of the squatters with longer tenure refuse the deals. All in all, Mumbai clearly depends on the labor of its squatter community but likes to pretend it does not exist.
Finally, in Istanbul squatters seem to have a reasonably good life, with even more legal protections than in Rio. Again, these aren't suburban tract homes we're talking about for the most part. Fresh water and sewage facilities remain difficult issues and people often live on very small incomes that make acquiring necessities difficult. But some of the old squatter neighborhoods in Istanbul are indistinguishable from any thriving city neighborhood--the buildings are big and permanent, utilities are metered, and there are roads and bus stops.
There's also some history on squatters in New York City, which I skimmed. The author's conclusions are that aid agencies and officials too often focus on tearing down the slums without respecting the ingenuity, drive, and sense of community that has grown up within them. The solutions are too often cookie-cutter housing projects that offer no incentive or freedom to improve to the inhabitants. The suggestion seems to be that legalizing existing slums and providing more access to basic services by extending water, electricity and sewer lines into them would be more efficient than big public projects, because once you have a few major infrastructure arteries entering a big slum, the inhabitants will figure out how to use and distribute them for themselves.
Rating 4.0/5.0 for addressing a largely ignored topic in a way that made me think about it differently—though Shantaram had started me thinking along these lines already.
In Rio de Janeiro the squatters have won many concessions from city authorities. Some of the older favelas are hooked up to city utilities and one even has a paved public street running through a large portion of it. Newer squatters still stuffer many hardships in more primitive settlements, and it is hardly a pampered life, but there is a huge amount of entrepreneurial energy and creativity being displayed on a daily basis in these communities. The one thing that seemed odd was that the role of the narcotics trafficking gangs, which I had been led to believe was rather significant, is downplayed here.
In Nairobi, conditions are much, much worse, with most people living in homes made of mud, some with metal roofs (though it is mentioned that these are very hot and uncomfortable). There is open sewage everywhere and access to clean water is difficult. Here the corruption of the local tribal and city authorities and the impotence of the international aid agencies is heavily emphasized. The legal system is set up to prevent squatters from expanding their own homes and efforts to bring even basic infrastructure services into the slums are defeated by the avarice of politicians and contractors, who pocket the money without finishing the work. Many city leaders actually own mud homes in the squatter communities which they rent out to families, generating solid returns on a literally dirt cheap investment. It all works to undermine community and individual efforts to improve conditions and start businesses, though there are some success stories. All in all the impression is of dignified people struggling to get by in squalor.
Conditions are hard in Mumbai as well. Here there is a political movement to empower the squatter population, though it seems to do relatively little for them. People display the same drive and creativity as seen in the Rio favelas, but the government has a bit of a schizophrenic attitude toward them. Slums that get built up may be torn down for development. There are programs in place to provide public housing for displaced squatters, which is progressive, but the concrete tenement houses offered by the government offer something like 200 square feet per relocated family, which is less space than most people not living on the street possess. And the tenants are prevented from improving or customizing these apartments. So many of the squatters with longer tenure refuse the deals. All in all, Mumbai clearly depends on the labor of its squatter community but likes to pretend it does not exist.
Finally, in Istanbul squatters seem to have a reasonably good life, with even more legal protections than in Rio. Again, these aren't suburban tract homes we're talking about for the most part. Fresh water and sewage facilities remain difficult issues and people often live on very small incomes that make acquiring necessities difficult. But some of the old squatter neighborhoods in Istanbul are indistinguishable from any thriving city neighborhood--the buildings are big and permanent, utilities are metered, and there are roads and bus stops.
There's also some history on squatters in New York City, which I skimmed. The author's conclusions are that aid agencies and officials too often focus on tearing down the slums without respecting the ingenuity, drive, and sense of community that has grown up within them. The solutions are too often cookie-cutter housing projects that offer no incentive or freedom to improve to the inhabitants. The suggestion seems to be that legalizing existing slums and providing more access to basic services by extending water, electricity and sewer lines into them would be more efficient than big public projects, because once you have a few major infrastructure arteries entering a big slum, the inhabitants will figure out how to use and distribute them for themselves.
Rating 4.0/5.0 for addressing a largely ignored topic in a way that made me think about it differently—though Shantaram had started me thinking along these lines already.
Damn You, Blogger!
For some reason the "Post Options" feature on Blogger malfunctioned three times in a row, immediately posting entries that I had scheduled for the next few days. And I can't change them back. I really hate glitches like that.
And now a post I wrote yesterday, scheduled to be published, doesn't show up at all in my blog lists. That wasted 20 minutes of my time. I guess this service is worth what I'm paying for it.
And now a post I wrote yesterday, scheduled to be published, doesn't show up at all in my blog lists. That wasted 20 minutes of my time. I guess this service is worth what I'm paying for it.
Review: Gridlinked
Read this first novel by Neal Asher based on liking a short story in the Years Best Science Fiction 25th Annual Collection that was set in the Polity future he introduces here. All I can say is: good grief, this book was awful. The characterizations are poor and one dimensional. As an added bonus, the characters aren't particularly likeable. But they sparkle next to some of the most stilted, unnatural dialogue I've come across. At times it reads like this book was translated somewhat ineptly into English. The plot is heavy handed and contrived as well. I'm still not sure why the last 50 pages or so played out as they did and I don't care to go back and try to figure it out. This novel reads like a very poor man’s Richard K. Morgan Takeshi Kovacs story.
Rating 1.5 out of 5 for amateurish execution.
Rating 1.5 out of 5 for amateurish execution.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Review: The Year’s Best Science Fiction 25th Annual Collection
This is the latest edition of the annual collection edited by Gardner Dozois. Pretty good overall.
Really liked these stories
“Tideline” by Elizabeth Bear. The story of a marooned war robot, the refugee boy it helps raise, and the arduous yet simple homage it seeks to pay to its fallen human comrades. Original and touching.
"Alien Archaeology” by Neal Asher. Gritty, interesting look at a future involving a cold war with aliens, a black market in both ancient and corrupt alien technology, criminals, and some espionage.
“The Merchant and the Alchemist’s Gate” by Ted Chiang. Marvelously thoughtful and interesting take on time travel, fate, and Allah's will set in the Caliphate from the perspective of a devout Muslim. I've never read a bad story by Ted Chiang.
“Finisterra” by David Moles. A lyrical and weird story about outcasts and criminals living on giant floating animals. The science is improbable and not well explained, but the writing and characterizations are strong and have excellent style.
"Sanjeev and Robotwallah” by Ian McDonald. An interesting take on young soldiers tele-operating war drones in future India and the hard truths they are forced to confront. Evokes a distinctive sense of place.
“The Mists of Time” by Tom Purdom. A time-travel story that is more about rescuing an overlooked period of history, when the British Navy played a dangerous game, stopping slave runners on the high seas in pursuit of both prize money and abolition. But it has just enough science fiction elements in it to warrant inclusion.
“Steve Fever” by Greg Egan. A lot of Egan's work frankly goes over my head, but this story of what happens after a dying scientist named Steve puts his consciousness into a nanobot swarm that keeps replicating and briefly infecting humans to get them to pursue the fruitless task of resurrecting him was quirky and interesting.
Also Liked, But to a Lesser Degree
Liked “Saving Tiamat” by Gwyneth Jones, “The Sky is Large and the Earth is Small” by Chris Roberson (more alternate history than science fiction), “Glory” by Greg Egan, “ “Kiosk” by Bruce Sterling, ““The Accord” by Keith Brooke and “Sledge-Maker’s Daughter” by Alastair Reynolds, and “Dark Heaven” by Gregory Benford.
Did Not Like
Michael Swanwick’s “The Sky-Sailor’s Tale." As usual for Swanwick, this came across as a rather pretentious, achronological mish-mash of a story with no clear point in which interesting ideas are tossed before the reader without being developed and boring mundanities like the menu at a large dinner are presented in excruciating detail. For me, reading Swanwick is like looking at modern art installations and wondering what the hell the point was supposed to be.
Stephen Baxter’s “Last Contact." Slow and dull, with characters that were not offensive so much as uninteresting. Again, similar to the other Baxter stories and novels I've read (well, I never actually finished his novels).
Robert Reed’s “Roxie." This bothered me not because it was badly written, but because it was not science fiction and it dealt entirely with a guy reminiscing about his many years of love for a dog that, to be honest, sounded annoying, as did his lack of concern for how his animal worried the neighbors. I wouldn't have wanted to live next door to either of them. This should have been in a mainstream fiction collection not this one, and I would gladly have not read it.
Nancy Kress’s “Laws of Survival." Wow. This story read like it had been written by somebody heavily drugged. There was nothing really compelling or believable about the premise or the action--even for a science fiction story it required me to suspend too much of my disbelief. It would have been perfect as a bad sci-fi television episode. "Imagine in a future in which powerful aliens land on Earth and create massive impenetrable domes staffed by robots with limited English and miracle technology, which they then use to imprison a refugee woman to have her train stray dogs to act as surrogate hosts for alien grubs." I kid you not. Now make the story really long. Nancy Kress wrote an interesting book about characterization, and I've liked some of her short stories in the past, but the last few stories I've read, as well as the practically unreadable novel Probability Moon, have not impressed me at all.
Robert Silverberg’s “Against the Current.” The story of a guy moving backwards through time. A couple good notes about currency and that's about it. This could have been told in 500 words or less and it would have been better, though it would still have lacked a conclusion or a memorable main character. More evocative descriptions of his passage might have saved this.
Overall Rating for the Anthology: 4.5/5.0 for the number of good stories.
Really liked these stories
“Tideline” by Elizabeth Bear. The story of a marooned war robot, the refugee boy it helps raise, and the arduous yet simple homage it seeks to pay to its fallen human comrades. Original and touching.
"Alien Archaeology” by Neal Asher. Gritty, interesting look at a future involving a cold war with aliens, a black market in both ancient and corrupt alien technology, criminals, and some espionage.
“The Merchant and the Alchemist’s Gate” by Ted Chiang. Marvelously thoughtful and interesting take on time travel, fate, and Allah's will set in the Caliphate from the perspective of a devout Muslim. I've never read a bad story by Ted Chiang.
“Finisterra” by David Moles. A lyrical and weird story about outcasts and criminals living on giant floating animals. The science is improbable and not well explained, but the writing and characterizations are strong and have excellent style.
"Sanjeev and Robotwallah” by Ian McDonald. An interesting take on young soldiers tele-operating war drones in future India and the hard truths they are forced to confront. Evokes a distinctive sense of place.
“The Mists of Time” by Tom Purdom. A time-travel story that is more about rescuing an overlooked period of history, when the British Navy played a dangerous game, stopping slave runners on the high seas in pursuit of both prize money and abolition. But it has just enough science fiction elements in it to warrant inclusion.
“Steve Fever” by Greg Egan. A lot of Egan's work frankly goes over my head, but this story of what happens after a dying scientist named Steve puts his consciousness into a nanobot swarm that keeps replicating and briefly infecting humans to get them to pursue the fruitless task of resurrecting him was quirky and interesting.
Also Liked, But to a Lesser Degree
Liked “Saving Tiamat” by Gwyneth Jones, “The Sky is Large and the Earth is Small” by Chris Roberson (more alternate history than science fiction), “Glory” by Greg Egan, “ “Kiosk” by Bruce Sterling, ““The Accord” by Keith Brooke and “Sledge-Maker’s Daughter” by Alastair Reynolds, and “Dark Heaven” by Gregory Benford.
Did Not Like
Michael Swanwick’s “The Sky-Sailor’s Tale." As usual for Swanwick, this came across as a rather pretentious, achronological mish-mash of a story with no clear point in which interesting ideas are tossed before the reader without being developed and boring mundanities like the menu at a large dinner are presented in excruciating detail. For me, reading Swanwick is like looking at modern art installations and wondering what the hell the point was supposed to be.
Stephen Baxter’s “Last Contact." Slow and dull, with characters that were not offensive so much as uninteresting. Again, similar to the other Baxter stories and novels I've read (well, I never actually finished his novels).
Robert Reed’s “Roxie." This bothered me not because it was badly written, but because it was not science fiction and it dealt entirely with a guy reminiscing about his many years of love for a dog that, to be honest, sounded annoying, as did his lack of concern for how his animal worried the neighbors. I wouldn't have wanted to live next door to either of them. This should have been in a mainstream fiction collection not this one, and I would gladly have not read it.
Nancy Kress’s “Laws of Survival." Wow. This story read like it had been written by somebody heavily drugged. There was nothing really compelling or believable about the premise or the action--even for a science fiction story it required me to suspend too much of my disbelief. It would have been perfect as a bad sci-fi television episode. "Imagine in a future in which powerful aliens land on Earth and create massive impenetrable domes staffed by robots with limited English and miracle technology, which they then use to imprison a refugee woman to have her train stray dogs to act as surrogate hosts for alien grubs." I kid you not. Now make the story really long. Nancy Kress wrote an interesting book about characterization, and I've liked some of her short stories in the past, but the last few stories I've read, as well as the practically unreadable novel Probability Moon, have not impressed me at all.
Robert Silverberg’s “Against the Current.” The story of a guy moving backwards through time. A couple good notes about currency and that's about it. This could have been told in 500 words or less and it would have been better, though it would still have lacked a conclusion or a memorable main character. More evocative descriptions of his passage might have saved this.
Overall Rating for the Anthology: 4.5/5.0 for the number of good stories.
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