You are currently browsing the monthly archive for May 2010.
The Writing Front
I got a reject back on Phoenix Quenched today with an invite to submit again in the future.
I have noticed in some rejects that I do not always get that invite. I suppose one shouldn’t read too much into that as the editors in question probably assume that you will submit again no matter what.
Anyway, this is probably the most submission activity I’ve had in nearly three years. A couple of markets will open up to submissions tomorrow so I’ll send Phoenix Quenched back out in the next week or so. I want to put another coat of polish on it.
A Limb Knitter’s Love is going to take a breather while I try to figure out what is wrong with that story. I knew it wasn’t ready when I sent it out the door. Something isn’t right about it. It could be that I am trying to compress too much into too small a space.
Later today I will concentrate on Joint Writing Project – 02. And hopefully this week I’ll work on That’s Some Salsa!.
I don’t expect to jump back into print immediately. I think some skill sets have gone rusty. Also, I have a lot of development ahead of me as a writer anyway, something I knew back in 2007. Still, we’ll see what happens.
Maternal Soldier is still out. It may be a bit before I hear back.
Other Fronts
We’ve got sunny skies here in Missouri as I type this on the steps of the Northtown Community Center. I can see my loft apartment across the street where Trinity is reading a novel about Nazis killing vampires or some such. Sometimes I think she should be the one writing the stories.
We’ve got a chicken in the oven for the big Memorial Day Dinner later today. After that we’ll probably take a stroll around Northtown. Tomorrow is pay day for Trinity so we’ll be taking care of repairs to various things, restocking, paying off her car (thank God) and so forth.
I’ve got a week to prepare for summer classes. I will not make any major changes to the Year Three lectures for American History 120 for this class. I do want to move the first test up as close to the start of the semester as possible. My habit is that the first test goes out late and that needs to stop.
That said, there should be plenty of time for road trips, workouts, reading by the pool side and most important of all, writing.
It is time to get my writing career back on the road.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
On Memorial Day Weekend it is traditional for the nation, at least some of us (yeah, I’m talking to the twit who went to Chicago this weekend, shirking his duty) take a few moments to observe the Fallen.
Over time it has evolved into a observation of all of those who have passed away. I suppose that is okay. A former friend once stated that a monument in front of the Norclay Building at North Kansas City High School, which honors the loss of some teens who launched their car into a telephone is surely just as valid as some soldiers who marched off to the slaughter.
Says something, doesn’t it? Comparing four dumb teenagers who are perfect examples of Darwin at work to soldiers who are fighting for their comrades.
There is a lot of talk about the cost of our various wars. Usually this comes up with a new supplementary spending bill arrives in Congress or someone has some pet social program they want to fund. The military is gobbling up all of the money, etc, etc. It is the fault of the military-industrial complex and so forth.
The thing is that what we spend on fighting the war is pennies compared to what we should be spending on other fronts.
Let me tell you a story. This isn’t about a soldier who was killed in the line of duty, but he is very much someone who was wounded in action.
He was drafted in the mid 1960s into the United States Army in his late twenties. He is a married man, still married today, but the county draft board didn’t care. He was the son of some dirty farmer so off he went. He went even though his wife argued with him about trying to find some way to get out of it.
Now he wasn’t a gung ho kill ‘em all sort. He was better at fixing things than killing things. Granted, he grew up on the farm and knew his way around firearms. During Basic he made it a point of hitting the farthest targets and missing the rest. When the Army found out he had a year of college, he had to drop out because it cost too much, they offered to make an officer out of him.
Infantry Lieutenants had a very short life expectancy in Vietnam. He decided against becoming a butter bar.
No, this soldier worked the system in order to land a spot in the US Army’s helicopter maintenance program. With his wife had hand, they studied night and day to ensure that he was the Army’s Honor Grad for his helicopter maintenance class. Once they had the Honor Grad award, he was assigned, not to some firebase in Vietnam, not some airbase in Vietnam, but an ship.
A soldier assigned to a ship, a converted World War II seaplane tender called the USNS Corpus Christi Bay, also known as a Floating Aircraft Maintenance Facility. He would serve his year long stint in Vietnam on this ship, away from the worst of the fighting.
He did his year and finished his enlistment.
Then he came home.
He was spit on, which is pretty typical for that period. Granted, there are those in academia who try to claim that is all right wing mythology but this soldier relays this story.
“We were at the airport and the protestors were outside. There were armed MPs with us but they weren’t there to protect us. They said, ‘If any of you attack a protestor, we will shoot you.’”
Welcome home, right?
The soldier, now a veteran, tried to get on with his life. He had sinus infections. His sweat would eat through the bedding. His wife complained that his sweat burned her skin. When he went to complain to the Veterans Administration, they simply told him it was in his head and to forget about it.
Years passed by and the soldier had two sons.
Years passed by and the soldier’s health problems got worse.
Finally in the 1990s the soldier learned that he had heart disease. Not long after that the doctors discovered multiple myeloma. They also discovered prostate cancer. They couldn’t operate on the later because they were worried about his weakened heart.
Fortunately, at least for this soldier, the Veteran’s Administration was finally listening to men and women like my father. He received a 100 percent service connected disability rating. He wasn’t given much time to live, maybe a few years if he was lucky. In the meantime, they treated him.
That was in the mid 1990s. The year is now 2010 and my father is still alive. We buried his younger brother, Uncle Robert, a couple of summers ago. Robert had served as a medic in Vietnam and did not get to the VA as quickly as my father did. What ailed him soon ate him alive.
No politician, no activist and to my knowledge, not one college professor, has stood up and elaborated on the cost of taking care of just one veteran like my father.
When I lecture on war in my history classes, I make it a point to talk about my father. Part of the reason is that some students, I suspect, think I am glorifying war by talking about it at all. Part of it is to get them to think beyond some cute soundbite or political gossip they’ve heard.
But mainly, I tell them the story of my father so they understand that their instructor, a soldier himself, understands just how damned expensive wars truly are.
Be nice if there were fewer of them, perhaps better yet if there were none at all. That said, knowing what I perceive of human nature, I wouldn’t hold your breath.
Things to ponder this weekend.
The Writing Front
Two stories out, one rejection back in this weekend. A Limb Knitter’s Love came back this weekend. Apparently the original reject got lost in the mail. It needed work anyway.
Phoenix Quenched is still out. Also out to a potential opportunity is that old warhorse Maternal Soldier.
So it goes.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
I’ve got a day pass to Kansas City’s science fiction convention today. Professionally, I should go.
Personally . . .
I am not a crowds person, especially unfamiliar crowds. And I think it is safe to say that I am not really a people person either. These days Trinity handles diplomatic relations when we fly in formation. Unfortunately I have only one pass which means I’m flying solo.
The amazing thing about Trinity, and one of the reasons I love her, is that she can have an intelligent conversation with people that doesn’t pertain directly to business or shop talk.
Me? I am a very direct, to the point, no small talk type. In fact, I find small talk to be intensely irritating. Intellectually I recognize that it is a vital social lubricant but psychologically it seems like so much static to me.
Meh.
So I’m headed down to the Hyatt today to check it all out. This year’s theme is Steampunk, which I have some interest in. Thing is, I wonder just what direction that subgenre is going in.
So it goes.
The Writing Front
Two stories out to market at present.
Phoenix Quenched at 1500 words. I sent that a couple of days ago.
A Limb Knitter’s Love, which I sent out on March 27th. We are over sixty days so technically I can query.
I think while I am wandering around ConQuest I’ll take a story file with me to work on. I handle crowds better if I have something like that to focus on.
Otherwise, we’ve got sunny weather for this Memorial Day weekend. Not a cloud in the sky.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
The Writing Front
It turns out that the e-mail I have for the market is not working or out of date.
Sigh.
Anyway, I finished Phoenix Quenched which is a short little piece at 1500 words. That is pretty small for yours truly. I’m pretty happy with it too, all set to send it out and so when I tried to send it I got a failure notice.
There are other ways to communicate with the market so I sent off a message to see what was what.
No word back on A Limb Knitter’s Love after sixty days. We are technically at the point where I can query the market in question about it. I suppose I’ll do that soon enough.
You know, sometimes I wonder just how much damage all of the internet warfare over the last three years did to my career. Sometimes I revisit the posts, the battlefields, to see if I feel repentant or sorry about anything I said.
I keep coming up with nada. I feel the same way about those things today as I did in the summer of 2008 or 2009.
So it goes. You make your bed, you lie down in it. That is just the way it is.
The Vehicle Front
Tags are due again which means a vehicle inspection. I hate these fucking things as the vehicle always fails.
And sure enough it failed this morning. Bad rear brakes, busted tie rod (always with the tie rods on this ZX-2, what is up with that?) and so forth. We’re looking at nearly $400 to repair the mess. The vehicle has already had $900 of previous work put in on it which brings up to $1300. At this rate the vehicle will start to cost more than it is worth in resale value.
Which is my everlasting fear. I’ve had vehicles which just consumed massive amounts of money to no avail. It was like pouring money down a hole and it doesn’t help that this is not a vehicle I really wanted.
The good news is that the Woman I Love is willing to help out in the near future.
Other Fronts
Not much else to report. Enjoying the lazy days before summer starts.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
Sometimes when I read my student’s essay responses to the exam, I wonder what they are thinking. Or worse, what they are being taught outside of my classroom.
One frequent essay question which appears in my American History 121 classes is the issue of dropping the atomic bombs on Japan at the end of World War II. It is one of the most controversial issues in American History today and is often grist for the revisionist’s mill in politics, history and even science fiction.
I give a pretty extensive lecture on the Rise of Japan stemming back to the 1840s and 1850s with the efforts of Commodore Biddle and later Commodore Perry to open Japan to trade with the United States. The lecture is perhaps more broad and than deep but in my defense, it is a survey course and I feel that it does provide some aspect of multiculturalism for the students. It is also a classic clash of two different cultures. I also give an extensive lecture on the causes of the war between the Empire of Japan and the United States, the nature of that war and the views of the Japanese Government up to the use of the atomic bomb.
Students are asked to analyze the options facing US leaders in 1945, consider the alternatives and then provide an opinion. In order to get most of their essay points, the student must demonstrate that they have a grasp of the events, particularly the causes, motivations and perceptions on both sides of the fence.
As a rule, when I give this lecture, I do not give my personal opinion on the matter. There are a number of reasons for this. First, I do not want my students regurgitating my own words back to me. Second, I am not trying to create intellectual clones/drones, I want them to learn to think for themselves. Third, I do want them to struggle with the material and give a solid, well argued opinion.
On the better essays, I get the usual arguments pro and con which have been exhaustively debated elsewhere. The pro-bombing argument is that it shortened the war, saved lives and was the only thing that would break the Japanese. The anti-bombing argument is that it was immoral, a war crime, and used primarily to dissuade the Soviets from invading the Japanese mainland as well as to show them who is boss in the post War world.
Sometimes I see arguments which make me wonder what is going on in their heads. For instance, one option was to continue General Curtis LeMay’s firebombing campaign. I take great pains to point out, for a lot of reasons, that the firebombing killed far more Japanese civilians than both nuclear weapons combined.
To my horror, I have seen students argue that firebombing is better than the atomic bomb. Which leads me to wonder about their thinking. It is okay to firebomb but not okay to nuke? How is one any better than the other? They will argue that using the atomic bomb is unethical under any circumstances. Once they’ve made the statement, they do not elaborate on why the atomic bomb is unethical and how that compares to firebombing.
I will say that the anti-bombing side has never argued for a ground invasion, nor have they argued for a naval blockade to starve the Japanese into submission. No, what I have seen, on very rare instances, is something that bothers me.
Students on the anti-bombing side will argue that the cause of the problem stems back to Biddle and Perry’s efforts to open Japan. That, on the face, is a pretty sophisticated argument and one worth conceding. It does ignore the reality that a European power was likely going to open Japan up to trade anyway but since I do not lecture on that and the textbook doesn’t even cover that topic I give them a pass on that score.
What follows is what troubles me. Basically it can be summed up as follows.
If only Perry and Biddle, as well as the United States, had been respectful of the culture of Japan, perhaps the hundred years of diplomatic strife which lead to World War II could have been avoided.
Read that line for a minute and tell me if something bothers you about it. It seems pretty solid, doesn’t it? It shows that the student in question (multiple students have used this argument, I might add so I am not singling any one particular student out). Even with my qualification, I have to admit that I’ve been reluctant to blog about this. My concern is that students will troll the internet looking for material to use in their essays or papers at other campuses. I have additional concerns but I will keep those to myself as they do not quite pertain to the matter at hand.
The problem with the statement in italics is that it is a fallacy. It makes the assumption, a false one, that Perry, or any other American dealing with Japan up to 1856, didn’t respect Japanese culture. In fact I’d argue that Perry had a great deal of respect for it in that he studied what he could of their culture in order to figure out how to accomplish his mission, which was to open Japan up to US Trade.
What he learned, from Biddle’s failure and his studies, is that the Japanese respected belligerency and strength.
Perhaps what the student meant by respect is that the United States respect Japan’s desire for isolation and not resort to belligerency in order to open the Empire up. Thing is that Commodore Biddle tried the diplomatic, tactful approach during his mission in the 1840s and was pretty much blown off. Worse, he left the Japanese with the impression that America was incredibly weak and not deserving of respect.
The problem I’m describing, and I relate this in lecture, is a clash of differing cultural values on what constitutes respect between the Japanese and the Americans of the time.
What is probably most likely is that the students in question feel that if Perry and Biddle had a respect for Japanese culture in a 21st Century American sense, then perhaps the war could have been avoided.
And herein lies the core problem, the fallacy of presentism. Presentism is when a student of history takes their present day values system and makes a historical interpretation through that filter or bias.
If only Commodore Perry had been through a sensitivity session. If only he had our 21st Century values.
Well, you can and probably should make a moral judgement on those grounds, but does it get at the historical truth of the matter? Do we gain a clear perspective of what Perry was thinking in the 1850s?
Or perhaps I should put it this way.
To expect Commodore Perry to behave as a 21st Century US Naval Officer would is no different than expecting Socrates to hold forth on the Petrine Theory of Papal Supremacy. It’d be pretty difficult for Socrates, Plato or Aristotle to do any such thing as the Catholic Church didn’t exist yet. Or perhaps just as unlikely would be to expect Marcus Tullius Cicero to write extensive essays on the Enlightenment or Marxism.
Out of what time warp is Perry supposed to get these values? He isn’t a product of 21st Century America, he is a product of early 19th Century America. He simply wouldn’t see the problem of contact with Japan in the same manner as we do.
He wouldn’t have foresight of coming historical events either. I suspect if the Americans did have a crystal ball showing them what was down the pike that they probably would have behaved far more aggressively than they did.
How does this apply to American Science Fiction?
Well, a classic example is The Lucky Strike by Kim Stanley Robinson. Ostensibly an alternate history concerning the use of the atomic bomb on Japan in 1945, Robinson uses a protagonist who is somehow inculcated in the values of late 20th Century Liberal America. The protag, Captain January, is disgusted by the bomb and believes that he best alternative is to drop the bomb into the ocean near the coastline. When he does so, the Japanese see the effect of the bomb and surrender.
The moral of the story? If only we had tried something else then things could have ended better than they did.
Aside from presentism, the story is also flawed due to a poor understanding of what was going on in the halls of Japan’s government in 1945. Their reaction to the bombing of Hiroshima was simply to state, and I paraphrase, “We lose more in firebombings than we did with this one atomic bomb. We may as well continue to fight.”
Dropping the bomb into Tokyo Bay would not have impressed them anymore than the actual bombing of Hiroshima did.
I have also seen this in the Fantasy and Steampunk movements. There has been an effort over the last few years to modify the traditional medieval style Fantasy away from the original European roots into something that is more reflective of our 21st Century progressive values. The same can be said for the Steampunk movement with calls issued to move away from depictions of racism, colonialism, imperialism, and sexism.
As a fiction writer, I’m supportive of the idea that you ought to be able to write whatever it is you want to write. As a reader and a historian however, I have to admit that I find these politically correct fictionalizations of the past to be something of a disservice. Part of why the Fantasy genre doesn’t interest me in the first place is that it seems to focus to the exclusion of all else on the nobility. Everything is too clean, too neat, with most problems whisked away with a sword or magic. I suspect before long it will be this way with Steampunk as well, a distorted, sanitized view of what Victorian culture was like.
The past as it should be, not how it was.
Such things I am pondering today.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
Evil Robot Monkey by Mary Robinette Kowal
I can’t remember the last time I did a review of a short story. I’d gotten out of the habit when I walked away from my Asimov’s subscription nearly three years ago. That said, I was staring at my unread The Year’s Best Science Fiction 26th Edition and decided to see what was up.
Mary’s story looked short, it was late and I figured I’d give it a spin. How can you resist a title like Evil Robot Monkey anyway?
The premise is simple enough. We have a monkey locked up in a pen working a pottery wheel. We learn over the course of the story that Sly is an experiment with brain implant devices. In this case it increased his intelligence to a point where he can’t spend time with his fellow monkeys nor is he quite evolved enough to spend time with humans.
Needless to say, Sly is angry about his plight. His pottery is the only thing, at least that is revealed in the story, which calms him. It is also the way by which his keepers discipline him when he reacts badly to a group of school children who frightened him.
The other character in the story is Vern, a zoo keeper, easy going, and probably the closest thing Sly has to a friend. He drops by to talk to Sly about his behavior after the school children are gone.
To say more would be to spoil the story. It is a short one, I’m guessing not much longer than 2000 words total.
I guess the reason I am reviewing this story (I don’t know the writer aside from various blog entries I see on the net) is that I identify with Sly. I read stories in the hope that they’ll generate some sense of emotional resonance in me, strike a chord as if you will. In fact, I think that should be the writer’s primary objective, not a bunch of hash about politics or messages or anything else.
I came away from the story with one main thought.
Sly, I know exactly how you feel.
This story has my recommendation.
I may do other reviews of the stories in YBSF 26 if it strikes me to do so.
Other Fronts
There is not much to report really. I think I’ve probably got too much unstructured time on my hands, which is never a good thing. It makes me cranky and I start to wander around looking for things to keep me busy.
Why not focus on your writing?
Well, the problem, as I was telling Trinity, is that I’ll get fired up over a piece of writing and before you know it, I lose interest. I look at the markets, I do not see anything I want to read, can’t find anything that looks even vaguely like what I have been writing, and figure, “Fuck it.”
That is part of what prompted me to pick up Gardner’s anthology last night. Everyone else goes to Clarion, or the American SF Livejournal Community, or they live in NYC where they can rub elbows there.
Me? The Year’s Best has been my writing school for the genre.
It could also be that I simply do not have anything I want to say right now.
I have been working out, though to be honest, I’ve not been pushing myself hard enough. The two weeks of monsoon have not helped my waistline either. I really need to knuckle down.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
A couple of semesters back I took American Literature II with Terri Lowry, who is the instructor in a Creative Writing class that I take over and over again to maintain some level of skill. It should be noted that while I hold a minor in English, none of my coursework is in American Literature.
In fact, I avoided it when I was going through undergrad the first time.
I could have gotten more out of the class than I did, all things considered. It can be incredibly difficult, playing college student and college history instructor at the same time. Turns out that your teaching takes priority when the rest of your life isn’t. That said, Terri had a question which she put to the class.
What is America? What does it mean to be an American?
There is no right answer in my mind, though I hear a lot of answers that simply exasperate me.
A common narrative theme in American History classes is this.
The United States of America is an aggressive, racist, imperialist superpower which is bent on crushing everything beneath her feet. It ruthlessly exploits the resources of the planet as well as non-Americans, engaging in wars of conquest which rival that of the Roman Empire or Nazi Germany. It is a pseudo Christian theocracy which suppresses dissent and demands conformity.
That is off the top of my head but I think that is a pretty accurate reflection. It is a theme I heard repeated over and over again when I went to Park University for my undergrad in the mid-1990s. It was prominent in the news media of the time and if you tune to the right channel, you’ll hear it again and again. Go for a stroll in the Livejournal Science Fiction Community and you’ll see variants of this narrative as well.
Basically, America is evil personified. She needs to have her wings clipped.
A narrative like this has some basis in fact. Let’s run through them.
1. The systematic conquest and oppression of the Native American populations of North America.
Sometimes this is referred to as genocide, which I think is overstating the case. Efforts were made to reach some sort of understanding with various Native American tribes which would preserve them. Yes, agreements were made and frequently broken. Yes, the United States did engage in wholesale slaughter but genocide in my mind is indicative of an effort to completely exterminate a given population. I do not think this is the case.
Which doesn’t really matter, semantics aside, what was done to the Native Americans was pretty bad.
Yet you ought to ask yourself if it could have happened differently. I personally do not think so though some historians would argue, “If only we had been more respective of their culture.” Expecting someone like George Armstrong Custer or Andrew Jackson to embrace the concepts of tolerance, multiculturalism and diversity is not much different than expecting Julius Caesar or Marcus Tullius Cicero to start holding forth on the better points of the Enlightenment.
2. The United States is a racist, Eurocentric society which systematically oppresses people of color.
Historically, this is valid. Slavery, Jim Crow Laws, Segregation, the Chinese Exclusion Act, etc, etc, the list goes on.
3. The United States is an imperialist power.
I suppose that depends on how you define “imperialist power.” We do not presently have significant colonial possession in the traditional sense. Granted, you could argue that this is because we have either let them go, such as the Philippines, or made them states, like Hawaii.
But would you call South Korea a colony? I think think they’d appreciate such a comparison even if their peers in the North would make just that point.
There is Iraq and Afghanistan but neither of them look like colonies to me. Afghanistan doesn’t even possess anything of real value when you get right down to it. We are there mainly due to the events of September 11th. As for Iraq, I’d argue that putting paid to a dictator like Saddam Hussein was a good thing, not a bad one.
4. It ruthlessly exploits the resources of the planet.
We have a population of 300 million plus living in a petroleum based economy. Show me a first world nation that isn’t exploiting the resources of the planet ruthlessly? Show me a developing nation that isn’t exploiting the resources of the planet ruthlessly?
5. It is a pseudo-Christian theocracy.
Speaking as a militant agnostic, borderline atheist, I would argue that there is plenty of religious diversity in this country. Granted, the country is not particularly friendly towards the Islamic faith at the moment but then one might want to refer to a hole in NYC as the cause.
6. It isn’t much different from Nazi Germany or the Roman Empire.
Hmm. There is a saying about the Romans, something to the effect that they make a desert and call it peace, meaning that they do not play patty cake with their enemies. The United States operates a little differently but I’ll get to that in a second. As for the comparison with Nazi Germany, I simply do not see it.
Or consider this, if the United States of America did operate the way Nazi Germany did, here is how history might have unfolded since September 11th.
First, the response probably would have been nuclear in nature. I suspect a truly Fascist state would not hesitate to bomb whole populations out of existence simply on principle alone. Second, we probably would have invaded any state suspected of harboring people sympathetic with Osama Bin Laden.
In other words, we would have given Bin Laden exactly what he wanted.
Third, we would simply lock up/execute anyone considered to be either a terrorist or a dissident.
Strange thing. You can’t really do that here in the United States of America, at least not for long, as someone will eventually find out and stop you.
Still, the record is pretty damning.
Does the United States of America have any redeeming traits? Or should it be relegated to the dustbin of history as soon as possible?
Well, I wouldn’t write us off just yet.
Here is a narrative theme that I explore in my classes.
The United States of America is a work in progress, flawed in many respects, prone to mistakes and yet she constantly strives to better herself. She has expanded the rights and freedoms of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights originally reserved for white male aristocrats to ever growing numbers of people. She has sent her own sons and daughters overseas to help restore order. She offers aid and comfort to other nations in times of need and in the aftermath of various wars fought through history. She is a center of technological, cultural, and political innovation, pushing forward to improve the standard of living for everyone.
A more perfect Union. I think that is what America is. We are constantly arguing with ourselves as to what that means, who will be included in it, and how they will be included in it. We have committed crimes in our past but I think our accomplishments, our contributions, and our ongoing self examination give us some shred of redemption from those who would cheerfully damn us.
What did we get right?
First off you have the Constitution of the United States of America and the Bill of Rights. These two documents helped to frame a Federal Republic which would serve as a model for other nations as they moved away from absolute monarchy and/or tyranny. It is an amendable document which enables us to correct flaws contained within it such as the 3/5th Clause and adapt to changing conditions in the society with amendments that permit women and ethnic minorities the right to vote.
Second, over the last two centuries, we have expanded the ability of all of our citizens to participate in government.
Third, we have overturned laws which discriminated against people of color. We have also passed laws which are designed to redress grievances created by decades of systematic discrimination.
Granted, personally, I agree with the grievances but not the current solution, which I think punishes people for crimes they did not personally commit. That said, as a historian, I count programs such as affirmative action as a sign that we are trying to right the wrongs of the past.
Fourth, we helped Europe get back on their feet after World War II. This was as much out of economic self interest as anything else.
Fifth, we have served as a powerhouse of industrial and technological innovation. We may be moving away from this, the jury is still out, but our contributions in science, industry and technology can not be disputed.
Sixth, we feed the planet. While we are an industrial nation, we are also an agricultural nation.
Finally, in terms of culture, I think we have done a great deal to push forward the ideals of equality and egalitarianism. Granted, our greatest problem is that we do not always practice what we preach nor do we always live up to those ideals, but I think we strive to reach them as best we can.
So I guess I’m not as down on my country as many writers and historians are. I am not particularly a “My country right or wrong,” sort nor do I see my country with rose tinted lenses.
But I don’t see us as the arbiter of all that is evil, corrupt and wrong on planet Earth either.
In these ramblings, I do not know if I really answered the question Terri put to us. When I wrote a paper on this topic in her class (this is not a reproduction of that paper but I suspect if I found it that it would cover similar themes) I do not think I ever came up with a satisfactory answer either.
I will say this.
The United States of America is my homeland. She isn’t perfect by any means, but I’m proud to live here while acknowledging her flaws.
And her contributions.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
Note: The story behind Maternal Soldier is probably longer than the story itself. The upshot is that, frankly, this should have been my first professional sale. The Gods of Fate felt otherwise when Gardner Dozois at Asimov’s retired and was replaced by . . . well, a two faced mealy mouthed idiot.
I don’t mind rejects. They are part of the deal. What I mind are two faced morons who are not clear about what they want.
In other words, I don’t care for the dog and pony show.
Here it is, Maternal Soldier.
Scene One:
18 Scorpii crested the western dunes of cinnamon sand and squat, thorny brush, spilling her morning tangerine rays down onto the few shiver quills running across the tarmac of Reynolds Air Base. Straight lines of aircraft, MV-22 Ospreys and F-35 Lightings, sat quiet, their air crews going over the morning maintenance checks. A few would look up from their work at a beach ball sized, silver sphere, which floated a meter above the tarmac. The Diplomat, no one else knew what else to call it, started to spin, not that you’d notice from direct movement on the sphere itself. Only the vortex of dust which grew under the wormhole manipulating entity gave any indication of movement.
Rebecca Vannoy, Staff Sergeant, U.S. Army, watched the Diplomat from the driver’s seat of a Petraeus Command Vehicle, parked in the motor pool of the First Sharpshooter Regiment. Robot, spaceship or actual living thing, thta was the unanswered question, one far above her pay grade. No one knew what their real agenda was either. No one quite bought the line about establishing universal peace throughout the diaspora of sentient beings.
Well, the current President did, but even the folks at the shopping centers back in America didn’t buy that line of crap. Vannoy knew she didn’t.
Julie might like to see a Diplomat, she thought in an unguarded moment. She suppressed the bit of whimsy just as quickly as it came. A cluck of her tongue would capture a digital image of the western star rise, the aircraft, and the column of Yalian warriors from the nation-state of Citruswood making their way past the motor pool gate. She might even catch a good shot of the double winged, long tailed rainbow shiver quills chasing insects down for breakfast. But the Diplomat wouldn’t be in the picture. Her embedded tactical was full of pictures where the Diplomat had been, yet not one shot of the sphere.
Vannoy checked her draft box. For each day she was on Yali, she had a message for Julie. Right about now she’d be composing another one, texting it onto the roof of her mouth and into her tactical AI before sending it to the division’s e-mail buffer. Each day was something different.
She hadn’t written today’s forlorn e-mail yet.
Julie wouldn’t want to see it anyway, Vannoy figured. She didn’t need to check the e-mail box in her embedded tactical AI to tell her that every message sent went unanswered. Every image captured was probably deleted. Her daughter gave Vannoy one thing and that was silence.
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
Note: I thought it would be neat to post the first scene of various projects that I have laying around. It will give me a way to assess what I have, let readers get a taste, and perhaps some prodding on which piece I should work on.
Without further ado, That’s Some Salsa!
Scene One:
“What kind of chips did you say your father liked?”
“The Tostitos Scoops.”
“Okay.”
A bag went into the shopping cart as the couple made their rounds at the local Hy-Vee.
“Awfully quiet. Worried about your father?”
“Yeah,” the man replied.
“He’s looking better.”
“Yeah,” the man reached for a jar of Pace Picante Sauce. “That is what bothers me.”
“Why? I’d have thought you’d be happy to see his recovery,” she said.
“You don’t recover from prostate cancer, lung cancer and multiple myeloma, Sharon. You just don’t. Folks who get one cancer normally cork off . . .”
“I hate it when you say that . . .”
“. . . inside of what? Two years? Less?”
“Mike,” she placed her hand on the back of his neck and turned him toward her. His shoulders slumped and his eyes went skyward.
“Yes?”
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
Note: I thought it would be neat to post the first scene of various projects that I have laying around. It will give me a way to assess what I have, let readers get a taste, and perhaps some prodding on which piece I should work on.
Without further ado, Drifter’s End.
Scene One
“Mister Hackshaw?”
A thick, meaty hand landed easily upon his shoulder and rocked him back and forth in the hammock. The drone of the Midwest Drifter’s props lulled him back into the depths of slumber, pushing back the twilight of dreams.
“Mister Hackshaw, please wake up. The Captain wants you in the signal shack right this instant.”
Kyle Hackshaw rolled over in the hammock and opened his eyes to the sight of Terry Grimes, master mechanic aboard the Drifter. A perpetual film of grease combined with a scent of engine smoke reminded Kyle of Hephasteus.
“What’s up?”
“She didn’t say,” Grimes said.
“I’m probably in trouble again,” Kyle said, dropping out of the hammock onto the swaying floor of the crew bay. He reached for a pair of sky blue coveralls and boots. “I’ll be up there in a couple of minutes.”
“Fair enough,” Grimes said. “Might want to get some food in you.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
Respects,
Steven Francis Murphy
Author of The Limb Knitter and Tearing Down Tuesday
North Kansas City, Missouri
Those that done said stuff