Science Fiction Has Its Own History, Its

"i Think I Know The Real Reason." "which Is?" "alcohol In The Dust Clouds. Goddamn Stuff Is Everywhere. Any Lousy Species Ever Invents The Telescope And The Spectroscope And Starts Looking In Between The Stars, What Do They Find?" He Knocked The Glass On The Table. "loads Of Stuff, But Much Of It Alcohol." He Drank From The Glass. "humanoids Are The Galaxy's Way Of Trying To Get Rid Of All That Alcohol."

-"then What," Lededje Asked, Trying To Keep Her Voice Cold And Not Get Caught Up In The Avatar´s Obvious Enthusiasm, "is Making You Smile About A Disaster?" -"well, First, I Didn´t Cause It! Nothing To Do With Me, Hands Clean. Always A Bonus.

Dead Air' Is Full Of Rants; It's A Rant-based Book. Yes, It's Self-indulgence. I Plead Guilty; Mea Culpa.

Here, In The Bare Dark Face Of Night A Calm Unhurried Eye Draws Sight We See In What We Think We Fear The Cloudings Of Our Thought Made Clear

Torture Is Such A Slippery Slope; As Soon As You Allow A Society Or Any Legal System To Do That, Almost Instantly You Get A Situation Where People Are Being Tortured For Very Trivial Reasons.