Fortuna: The Greek and Roman pantheons as snarky robots, in space!
Where Everybody Knows You're Lame.
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An extended interview with former members of japanese biker gangs, wherein they re-tell stories of their youth. Over time, the stories get stranger and stranger, initially in ways that westerners could just attribute to "crazy japan" -- terms in european languages that were appropriated into slang based on absurd mistranslations, custom seat-backs that are so tall that they can brush the undersides of bridges if driven straight-on. Slowly, the stories get increasingly surreal, and eventually, entirely supernatural. A former gang boss talks about the time he saw an exact duplicate of himself wearing a rival gang's jacket, and fought his doppelganger to the death before stealing the jacket and creating an alliance between the gangs. One night when a number of affiliated groups rode together only to become lost, finding themselves in a town seemingly identical to the one they just left but with no people, only a multitude of cats staring at them impassively from every surface. Eventually, one of them explains that the subculture owes its longevity to annual human sacrifices of junior members to tengu, who consumed the intestines of these initiates in exchange for magical protection of members from the police. The interviewer explains that, during the interview, the people he was interviewing seemed to grow smaller and smaller. At the end of the interview, he finds that everything in the room, with the exception of himself and the walls and ceiling, has shrunk to approximately one fifth its original scale. The tiny former yakuza chuckle menacingly as he tries to squeeze himself out of the building through the now tiny door, only for him to find himself surrounded by cats, sitting on all surrounding surfaces, staring impassively at him. He gets into his car and races into the night, only to wake up the next morning, parked, on the breakdown lane of a highway on a completely different island.
I just want to know how 30,000 ISIS freaks haven't been wiped out by the Russians by now. They have a very Roman approach to this sort of thing.
UN and america. "no you can't bomb that place, they might have civilians. No you can't respond to a terrorist attack that's just what they want. No you can't take down the spooky terrorists, we're the worlds white knight." To sum it up, but also internal political reasons.
If I wanted to hear your shit, I'd just turn on Rush Limbaugh.
A nominally SF story whose premise is an absurd overstatement of the Sapir-Worf hypothesis: a group of linguists sent to mars to decode the writing on ancient alien artifacts found there become lactose intolerant, begin to grow wings, and then die of starvation; the rescue team sent to check on them arrives two years after their launch, and discovers that the orientation of the organic molecules in their bodies has swapped -- and that they now match the orientation of most martian life, rather than earth life (and as a result, they were unable to gain nutrition from food). Learning and speaking the martian language had begun turning them into martians, and that was fatal.