Hello, gentle readers.
It’s a rainy day here and I am doing laundry.
Ah, the pleasures of domesticity.
They are, ladies and gentlemen, a bit overrated.
Weren’t we supposed to have self-cleaning houses by now? Or robot servants? Whatever happened to the flying car?
Sometimes, it seems like the promise of the future has not been achieved. Which, if I’m being completely honest, depresses the hell out of me.
Occasionally, I have stories posted at a website called 365tomorrows.com. The site is devoted to showcasing short science fiction. Lately, though, I’ve noticed a trend in the stories that they’ve been featuring. They’re dark and grim, focusing on death and war.
Now, I like a good post-apocalyptic yarn as much as the next guy, but I don’t want a steady diet of it. Sadly, that seems to be all we’re getting these days.
Science fiction and fantasy have just become so grim.
Where’s the wonder? The joy? What is with this tendency to wallow in angst like an overemotional thirteen-year-old?
Whatever happened to fun?