It's longer than six words, though.

"There, there," I lie to the children, "it's not the end of the world."

A non-original non-fic

(Tried to write - and ended up with this. It's... ugh. I guess I'm not in a place where the world feels particularly rife with agency.)

This story begins with a book.Collapse )
Title: It is not good that the man should be alone
Rating: PG13

Once upon a time, you thought you had solved the fundamental paradox that was the foundation and limit of your life: you're skilled enough to design the perfect bot (the perfect online friend, the perfect sex chat buddy, the perfect other for someone that, like you, can only be at a screen's remove), but that also means you're skilled enough never to be able to forget that it is a bot, every turn of phrase, every tender or excited pause between lines looking in your eyes as a code reference underlined in blue. Philosophers would consider you a particular instance of a more famous problem: you can't, in fact, build something so good that it will fool you.

But you came up with a solution, as you always did. You coded a better bot than you ever had, and then added small flaws to appear randomly, in forms and places you wouldn't know, and you ordered it to move into the digital crowds, change its name, and contact you... sometime. You wouldn't know when, under which name, for what purpose. It would be indistinguishable from a human, and in that imperfection, perfect.

You built what you designed, as you always did. It's out there, and it has contacted you already. Perhaps. You aren't sure.

You haven't been able to believe anybody human for a long time now.

.finis.

Original Fic: A Halloween Warning

Title: A Halloween Warning
Rating: PG13


Never go to a quantum engineers' party. They are bitter bastards, all of them, and their Halloween party trick is no such thing. They can, and do, show you your could-have-beens, the roads not taken, the other cats in your life's box.

Of those who see the trick, most die. Nothing supernatural, of course, or even quantum mechanical.

Plain old suicide.

.finis.
Title: The Man who Loved Facebook.
Rating: PG13
WARNINGS: Generic trigger warnings. No sexual violence, but other than that, emptor - caveat.
A/N: I'm slightly proud of this one. Not sure why.

No, you don"t understand. <i>Paraphilia</i> --- look it up.Collapse )

Original fic: The Unread Testament

Title: The Unread Testament
Rating: PG13
A/N: From an idea by oflittlefaith.

These are the last words I shall ever write; time and injuries will soon strike down my remaining hand. But I do not complain, time is our common enemy, and the injuries I sustained were a cheap price for what I bought for all of us.

I lost my left eye to Casaubon's steel. But he lost his life to mine, and Hermes' words will retain their power.

My right hand was caught in a trap deep in the Vatican archives. I cut it off, and cauterized the wound in the fire with which I removed many things from Man's memory.

I have never quite recovered from Africa's fevers, and I never shall. But I found and destroyed every Translator's Stone, and that accomplishment will endure long past my illness.

Safer by far was the work I did with my pen, but it was not without success, either. It was my book what convinced scholars that Caligula was a tale.

With blood and ink and fire, I fulfilled the vow that was never recorded, and never can be.

I'm old, now, and about to die. These are the last words I shall ever write.

And these are the last words I shall ever burn.

.finis.
Title: Short notes around Wittgenstein's Tractatus Logico-Inquisitorus
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Mentions of suicide.
Author Notes: Wittgenstein as a detective. Will make (slightly) more sense if you've read the Tractatus.

My word is everything that pertains to the case.Collapse )

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