This semester I’ve seen something that warms my heart: I’ve seen a student body with their eyes on the future. I’ve seen this in The Human Side of Robots in Film series that screened movies like Her and Ex Machina in the Wilcox Blackbox. I’ve seen this in the newly formed Princeton Futurist Society, which is gearing up to discuss AI, nanotechnology, genetic engineering and all the other tech trends that are bringing the Singularity hurtling toward us.
I’ve seen this in Professor Ruha Benjamin’s sociology seminar, Continue reading
“High holy – ” Valres shouted, before remembering the need for silence. A white glob of candlewax cooled and solidified on the parchment of the book open in front of him, obscuring a passage he had not yet transcribed. This complicated matters, and his inability to express his shock in a less audible manner lent urgency to the situation. Students were not allowed in the rare books library, ever, under any circumstances, and especially not at night when they broke into the building. His family name notwithstanding, if Valres were caught, he would be disciplined harshly, perhaps even expelled from the University. And if he were expelled, his grandmother would force him into the Army, and he had no intention of bleeding to death face-down in foreign mud. He was destined for something far greater. Continue reading
This is a story about nothing.
“Hey, what do you mean?” asks Joe.
It is truly, utterly, devoid of subject.
“But I’m right here,” Joe observes.
The concerns of this story are zerofold.
“Wait, no they’re not. I’m here.”
All hypothetical readers are advised to depart. And depart freely. Continue reading
Geoffrey was sitting not two chairs left of the receptionist’s desk when it suddenly occurred to him that the magazine he was pretending to read was intended for crochet enthusiasts ages sixty to sixty-five. Behind the recycled plywood desk, a pair of spectacles jerked forwards in an unrestrained snort.