Solarpunk Collective

This is a sample chapter from a project I'm working on. It is the first two chapters of a fantasy story. I hope to get some feedback and ideas about what works and what doesn't.  They say that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. I don't know if that is true, but as I find myself running out of choices and approaching a time when there may be no more left to make, I am filled with the urge to go back and examine those I made on my journey to this point. The most sensible way I can think to do that is by starting at the beginning of my story and working forwards. I will attempt to truthfully document my perspective on the events of my time, and their tragic culmination. Who are you, oh reader of my story? Will you understand the world I lived in, or the people and places that existed there? Many are now gone, and in the future, there may not even be a memory of their existence. Now is a time of collapse. And that is something that spreads. Small failu...

(I first wrote this blog entry in July 2020. But I didn't get around to publishing it. It sat on my blog, hidden from viewers while I thought about it.) This week I have been helping a high school student with preparations for the notorious Korean High School exam. The questions for the English portion of the test are very difficult to deal with, and can present a lot of trouble for students. However, the book that I'm using has some great mini articles in it. This one in particular caught my eye; Many people believe that it is critical to share similar, if not identical  beliefs and values with someone with whom they have a relationship.  While this may seem preferable, it is far from mandatory. Individuals from extremely diverse backgrounds have learned to overlook their differences and live harmonious, loving lives together.  I've seen people from opposite ends of the spectrum economically and politically that ended up in happy, lasting marriages.  I've ...

This week there have been a lot of discussions about defunding the police and what would take their place. All of the discussions tend to be based on certain assumptions, and so it's difficult to talk about that one issue in isolation. In fact, it might be counter productive. One very interesting article published on Medium took an even more radical position: Defund (and redesign) everything. Broadly speaking, “policing” in the United States has become a bad combination of corrupt and obsolete. This is not, however, a problem that is either exclusive or unique to policing. Quite the opposite. When I say corrupt here, I do not necessarily mean things like bribery, brutality and self dealing (though to be sure these are widely present). Corruption at its most fundamental is the simple consequence of time and entropy working at things. An old rubber hose left out in the sun becomes corrupt and unable to hold water. Our vascular system becomes caked with plaque. Our institution...

-From a children’s fairy tale book in a Solarpunk library 2062 Once upon a time there was a great dragon. It lived in a mountain cave and slept all day on a vast hoard of gold. At night it flew out and gorged itself on a goats and cattle. Sometimes it ate villagers or burned towns. Eventually, the dwarves who lived in the valley grew tired of being terrorized by the dragon, so they assembled an army and marched on its cave. They defeated the dragon and imprisoned it, but no mortal can slay the great primordial beast. The victorious dwarves soon fell to arguing about what to do with the dragon’s hoard. Such a great treasure was difficult to divide. Every dwarf had fought in the battle and many had died, but some fought harder than others, and without the help of the sword smiths and armorers, there could have been no victory. Guards were set while the dwarves decided what to do with it. The sly dragon lay on its pile of gold, grinning at the tiny dwarves who thought they h...

I got the call on my beeper just after lunch. Not much of a lunch, just an old unlabeled tin that turned out to be beans and vegan sausages, cooked on our solar stove on the roof of the squat. Downstairs I waited in line to use the community deck, anxiously tapping my foot and looking at the old patched LCD of the beeper, waiting to see if a second call would signal that the run had been cancelled. It hadn’t. When I finally got to sit down at the ancient computer and check my mail, the coded message was clear. I had barely enough time to put together a team and run the five blocks to the target. There was Otter, our physical pen expert. A tall, lanky dark-skinned bloke, he got his name from his unusually extensive body hair. That and the fact that he was the only one of us who could swim. Jewel considered herself to be a ‘leet hacker and at least had a discerning eye. She usually acted as appraiser for our runs, helping us decide what was worth taking and what should be left ...