The ebony box was a perfect cube, a hand’s width on the sides and unadorned except for a gold lock fastener on one edge. Shiriin knew better than to try to open it. Even if she had the key.
The whirling motor-blades of the craft kicked up a thick fog of crimson dust. The rear wheels settled on the mud cratered surface. The gravity was thick like soup. The front-wheel thudded. Pulling at their safety harnesses, the shaken occupants got up. The marines were already drained by pulling hard Gs in the descent. Their faces masked their relief as they checked their gear. They loaded their packs and rifles. The youngest grunt got out first. Heaving and spewing a stomach load until he settled. More experienced troopers lurched out after him. The vets nostalgic watching the recruit chunder. They taunted him and jabbed their fists on his helmet in good cheer as they passed.
It’s time I got serious about writing. To that end, I’ve set myself a goal to write a thousand words a day, every day throughout April. This is one of the key pieces of advice I got from Stephen King in his very approachable, part-biography and part-writing masterclass, On Writing.
The Problem of Evil is typically stated as: “If there is an omnipotent and omnibenevolent God, why is there evil in the world?” Usually, this is used to put the theist in the horn of a dilemma wherein he must give up either God’s omnipotency (including her omniscience) or her omnibenevolence or both. I’d like to argue that the problem as stated suffers from three category mistakes: two in the conditional (“an omnipotent and omnibenevolent God”) and one in the conclusion (“there is evil in the world”). In doing so, I believe I dissolve the problem and offer an alternative lesson to draw.
Zarathustra spoke and I was one of the little villagers in the Motley Cow. He told me of his going under. He told me he loved mankind so much that he would forego his prized solitude. He was brimming with wisdom to share. Yet the villagers cried: why does he act like such an angry fool? decrying all that we are? Their mockery turned to hatred and I was in Zarathustra’s skin, as he turned scorn into justification. I was myself again and I was not so sure. I kept listening.
An autobiography of the programming languages that I have learned, their place in my life and the surrounding technological context.
or How I stopped worrying and embraced change
Sometime back in 2015, I decided that I would push myself to pursue full-time university study whilst continuing on a fairly demanding career. Like any good engineer, taking on a new, uncertain project: I prototyped. I enrolled on to various free online courses and decided I would be part of that rare 3% or so that actually finished one. It was useful to find out what it would take to stay motivated; how to get organised. When full-time studies started, I was prepared to deal with the troughs of enthusiasm, the inevitable crunches in available time and the overloading of commitments. Of course, “life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.”
A Watch the Skies 2 Megagame – After Action Report
I’ve never been more prepared and confused before the start of a game. I came with a bag packed with press releases and standard contracts ready to do business. As the PR officer for LexCorp, I figured my role was to interact with the press and deal with PR issues with a side-order of salesmanship. Last minute, I’d prepared some handouts for other players outlining our core offerings: infrastructure upgrades, our Space Intereptors and our troop upgrades. The corporations side of the game was new and it was clear we’d have to do a lot of educating of our potential customers.