Damian's Camp Serenity Disrupted

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In: Fiction

Damian knelt outside his tent, flicking the butane stove to life. “Want it hot?” he asked, holding out the pouch. Inger didn’t answer. She snatched the pho from his hand, tore the seal with her teeth. The scent of dried shiitake and star anise hit the air. She sat cross-legged, chewing—no spoon, no water, no ceremony. He watched, unsure if he’d just been insulted or initiated.Continue Reading

Thanks for the Beer

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In: Commentary

She didn’t linger. Just took the beer, offered a smile that felt like a receipt, and dropped the line that would haunt the room: “Thanks for the beer.” No promise, no apology—just a closing statement dressed as gratitude. What came next wasn’t her problem. It never was.Continue Reading

The Peel Room

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In: Fiction

They call it triage, but it’s really the Peel Room—where autonomous humanoid robots like Mikako and Takuma are stripped of their silicone skins and routed for refurbishment or scrap. MKW110732 is back because her five-year lease wasn’t renewed. The return receipt reads: “customer’s requested persona overlay glitchy.” Damian logs her, tags her, and wheels her across the shop floor. She greets Mateo in Zapotec. Mateo hears sass. Damian hears snack cakes.Continue Reading

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In: Commentary

Bear v Man was never just a meme—it was a litmus test. A viral shorthand for algorithmic hysteria, gender panic, and the collapse of nuance. This post unpacks how logic got eaten alive by likes, outrage, and the need to pick a side before breakfast.Continue Reading

Sail the Brig

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In: Fiction

Damian boards a submarine to escape arrest—but finds himself self-incarcerated in a debtors’ brig run by Saito-Gumi. What begins as a rescue becomes a reckoning. Surveillance, ritual, and the economics of dignity collide in this speculative arc set east of Richmond.Continue Reading

Abstract illustration of a man lifting a barbell in a gym with warm lighting and silhouetted equipment, symbolizing embodied discipline and personal health .

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In: Commentary

Protestant theology amputated the body from discipleship. We study, worship, and serve—but embodiment is often ignored or treated as temptation. This essay reclaims Christ in the body: through labor, nourishment, movement, and grace made flesh. No papal dispensation required.Continue Reading

Vexton

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In: Fiction

Sacrilege was served hot. Soup—thick with hominy, dried chilis, and joy—bubbled beside the manifesto. Someone brought ketchup. Someone said “meh.” And suddenly, the poopie face hour was in session.Continue Reading