Jon-Paul Smith

  ENGINES OF SURVIVAL - Strange Horizons, Issue Dec. 22, 2008 Like a lot of science fiction buffs I’ve been a fan of time travel ever since I first picked up a copy of The Time Machine by H.G. Wells.  The Morlocks really did it for me and I’ve been hooked ever since.  Doctor Who certainly didn’t help things.  Doctor Who did a lot of things right. Having said that, time travel, as a plot device, generally sucks.  It’s wonky, it doesn’t always make sense and even when it does it’s too often used as a convenient, albeit cheesy, way for writers to write themselves out of a situation they couldn’t otherwise write themselves out of (I’m looking at you Avenger’s: Endgame , Star Trek too - and I say that despite the fact that Star Trek IV is my favorite Star Trek movie, so I’m not completely immune to its charms - I’m just, um, realistic about it I guess).  Still sometimes it’s like the writer cops out and says, “well, I can’t think of a way to fix this, so let’s just go back in time and

I don’t normally do reviews, especially short story reviews, but I think I’m going to start.  The world could use a little more short story. So I guess I’ll start with Fermi’s Prism from Cosmic Horror Monthly . Why?  Because it’s a kick ass story, that’s why:  a short Lovecraftian space romp with hints of Alien and Event Horizon and just a dash of military sci-fi .  The title is an homage to Fermi’s paradox, but I won’t go into the details of that.  I’ll just let Wikipedia do the splaining . The story can be a bit disorienting to read at first though because half of it takes place on an asteroid in zero gravity.  They use magboots to walk around, so it’s hard to tell up from down.  But that’s OK.  Because once you get your bearings you’re in for a special surprise. Yes, of the Lovecraft variety. I’ve long been fascinated by the concept of a universe that does not hold our best interests at heart.  And so has David F. Schultz , apparently. The cast of characters seems pretty typical

When I turned fourteen my step dad came in one day, stinking of weed and beer, loosened his tie and said “you’re fourteen now, we need to get you some pussy.” My step dad worked at the time for Burroughs Corporation selling check signers.   Those are machines that sign checks.   Yeah, I know, it sounds like something from Mad Magazine these days, like a cartoon profession or something, but I swear on everything that’s holy it’s what he actually did.   Apparently, and I didn’t know this at the time, if a company has to issue a large number of payroll checks they don’t actually sign them all by hand.   They use a check signer and the machine they use contains something called a signature plate - which is a watermarked metal stamp used to print the signature on each individual actual check. He also smoked a lot of weed. According to my mom he has also had a little dick. If you think that’s too much information then we park our cars in the same garage. My mother was never exactly a secreti