Tock
I love working with my hands. I got it from my dad. I used to love helping him in the garage or around the house. I love doing all sorts of DIY projects, and, ever since my dad died, it’s a way that I try to feel close to him …
artificial intelligence
Beta Test
Roxy’s Lounge. It was the sort of dimly-lit, mid-century styled bar that was too classy for me by half. In the real world, it’s the kind of place I’d have gone to get shit-faced on overpriced cocktails at a Game Developer’s Conference after-party. But that was in the old days, back …
Bot
It’d been four days since Julius McKlinsky had left his house. Maybe longer. Had it been a week already? He couldn’t tell. Not anymore. The same four walls seemed to close in on him every passing day, yet whoever – or whatever – was out there… hadn’t moved an inch. At first …
The Truth Behind the Mandela Effect
Everything that people think they know about the Mandela effect is incorrect. The phenomenon has been occurring for years, only most dismissed it as a fluke. In the most severe cases those experiencing the effect were diagnosed as having some sort of mental illness, and subsequently medicated, or committed. Then …
Renaud Herbert Hansen
Mr. Hansen’s body was interred in a stately mausoleum of his own design years ago, and yet he still works for us. I’m forced to interview with the remains of the sad dotard almost daily. The world honors Hansen for his invention of countless beloved animated characters, and it’s that …
Why Do People Keep Staring at My Face?
“What the hell is her problem?” I thought to myself as I sat in my cubicle. Angela, one of my co-workers, was staring at me. More accurately, she was gawping at me. At my face. I wanted to scream at her, flip my desk over and demand what the fuck …
A Lonely Machine
Roger glanced around the desert once more. Nothing but the cloudless sky and the sand scattering in the wind, with a few cacti dotted around the landscape. With nothing else to do, he checked his magazine, already knowing how many bullets he had. Full. Adjusting his helmet, Roger sighed and …
I Was Raised to Believe I Was an Android
From an early age I was told my father had “built” me and that I was built to help the family. Any feelings or thoughts that differed from his programming were to be reported to him as a malfunction that he would fix. It didn’t take me long to associate …