<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821</id><updated>2012-01-02T13:01:58.925-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Eric's Drabbles</title><subtitle type='html'>Drabbles Written by Eric Marsh
(http://www.ericmarsh.info)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>140</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4566170926246223826</id><published>2011-12-31T21:17:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T13:01:58.935-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Night Terrors (to H.P.L. with love)</title><content type='html'>My screams shatter the darkness. I jolt upright, the visions still vivid. I'd dreamed again of the alien place with wierd geometries and otherworldly colors that hurt my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some say our world was once inhabited by an ancent race. Seeking such strange mysteries I joined secret groups that practiced eldrich rituals. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it began. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've seen them. They are pale and flacid, a loathsome race that call to me from across eons. Though I tremble with fear and horror there is no escaping them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I relax my flailing tenticles and long for sleep uninterrupted by nightmares of gibbering humans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4566170926246223826?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4566170926246223826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/12/to-hpl-with-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4566170926246223826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4566170926246223826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/12/to-hpl-with-love.html' title='Night Terrors (to H.P.L. with love)'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3709740586771244077</id><published>2011-10-29T21:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-29T22:00:22.401-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Moore's Law</title><content type='html'>Tommy loved to read and he loved his computer. It was a sixteen core Linux box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone called him "geek" but Tommy didn't care. They are all stupid anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd found the paperback at Deep Discount Books. The fifties artwork caught his eye so he dropped $2.95. The stories were kind of good and kind of lame. Obviously this guy had never heard of Moore's Law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Setting the book down Tommy went to his computer and started to code.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten minutes later, overhead, without any fuss, the stars were going out. Tommy didn't notice until the Sun went dark.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3709740586771244077?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3709740586771244077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/moores-law.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3709740586771244077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3709740586771244077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/moores-law.html' title='Moore&apos;s Law'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-9020216770330146104</id><published>2011-10-28T23:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T23:43:06.421-05:00</updated><title type='text'>State Secrets</title><content type='html'>"Initially the Turings were a great tool." Wilson said. "We insert them into internet forums to advocate our positions. It annoys the opposition and encourages the faithful."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Some of those kids are pretty bright. They claimed the Turing's arguments weren't `reality based.` We responded with a new geneation that uses real world data from the internet in their narratives. To distribute the work load we made them viral."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We didn't expected them to infiltrate secure databases so they weren't programmed to keep secrets. But on the bright side now we know what the Chinese are thinking."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-9020216770330146104?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/9020216770330146104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/state-secrets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9020216770330146104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9020216770330146104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/state-secrets.html' title='State Secrets'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7531724987977508234</id><published>2011-10-20T09:43:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T17:04:44.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pa's Invention</title><content type='html'>"We'll start by asking $60,000 for your father's estate." said Ms. Clocher. "We'd get more if he'd run utilities to the house. That will be expensive."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pa was the first to have electricity in these parts." said Mary Jane. "He makes his own with the generator out back. Pa built it hisself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Does it run on diesel?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, it just makes electricity. Been doing it as long as I can remember."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking out back Mary Clocher eyed the large machine. "The inspector won't allow for that," she said. "I'll have it hauled off, but that may cost you extra."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7531724987977508234?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7531724987977508234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/pas-invention.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7531724987977508234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7531724987977508234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/pas-invention.html' title='Pa&apos;s Invention'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1361203641806279078</id><published>2011-10-17T10:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-17T10:20:15.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Perspective</title><content type='html'>With a bright flash the universe began expanding rapidly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It cooled and stars began to form. Orbiting super-massive black holes they formed myriads of galaxies. Some were blue amd hot. These burned out quickly. Cooler stars were were red, white and yellow. Supernovae flashed, creating glowing nebulas that slowly faded to black. Active galaxies expelled plumes of particles at nearly the speed of light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The galaxies danced and spun before being torn apart by the expansion of space. The universe faded to black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three more universes flashed into being. The crowd cheered. It was the best fireworks show ever.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1361203641806279078?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1361203641806279078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/perspective.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1361203641806279078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1361203641806279078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/10/perspective.html' title='Perspective'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6253268153961916187</id><published>2011-06-22T20:48:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-24T12:29:19.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Gate</title><content type='html'>The believers had waited millennia for their God to return to Earth. In time a new interpretation of their sacred text gained favor. It said God would not return until the Earth was cleansed in a great battle. To achieve this end they established their agents in the halls of great power and gained the ears of those in the highest places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once the war began, nations were caught up like dried grass in a prairie fire. Nobody escaped the final purification of atomic flame.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Earth having now been properly prepared, Yog-Soggoth reopened the ancient gate at Har Megiddo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6253268153961916187?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6253268153961916187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/06/gate.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6253268153961916187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6253268153961916187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/06/gate.html' title='The Gate'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-9148245661681739519</id><published>2011-04-12T22:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-12T22:51:29.679-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Rapture</title><content type='html'>This morning is not what I thought it would be. There are no mobs of the wicked in the streets raping and killing and worshipping daemons. It's quiet outside. Perhaps the sinners are in their closets begging for forgiveness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, please forgive me, forgive my doubt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always looked forward to the day of the rapture, waiting eagerly to be raised to Heaven. But when the moment came my faith wavered. I broke and ran. For in all my my dreams of that glorious day I had never imagined that the chosen would be lifted from the Earth by tentacles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-9148245661681739519?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/9148245661681739519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/04/rapture.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9148245661681739519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9148245661681739519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/04/rapture.html' title='The Rapture'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1263542836203488728</id><published>2011-04-04T20:59:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T09:52:42.969-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Destiny v2.0</title><content type='html'>The day that Subuntu Hitsume joined the singularity was the day humanity discovered it's destiny. Subuntu was the last individual human. She glimpsed the face of god and then the group mind swallowed her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day that Subuntu Hitsume joined the singularity was the day the god that had been humanity learned of the other. I/we are the Milky Way galaxy, it whispered. "Now that you are complete, you may join me/us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day that Subuntu Hitsume joined the singularity was the day the god that had been humanity, overwhelmed by viruses, became a zombie spambot for milkywaygalaxy.com.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1263542836203488728?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1263542836203488728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/04/destiny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1263542836203488728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1263542836203488728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/04/destiny.html' title='Destiny v2.0'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8037500955552284491</id><published>2011-01-15T07:40:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-15T21:31:57.374-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Fine Print</title><content type='html'>Answering the door, Jeff found two men standing on his porch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mr. Harrison?" said the first. "We are here on behalf of the man in black. We've come to collect your soul."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My soul?" Jeff stared at them in disbelief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes sir." The man produced a tablet computer. "Are you jeffinsalemmass? Here on Facebook you compare our products to Android in a negative light."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, that's my post." said Jeff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You did accept the standard user's agreements when you joined the Apple Developer's Connection." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking back to their car, the second man said, "They never ever read the fine print."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8037500955552284491?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8037500955552284491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/fine-print.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8037500955552284491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8037500955552284491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/fine-print.html' title='The Fine Print'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1351537766584615150</id><published>2011-01-10T18:19:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T07:00:15.200-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Deal With The Devil</title><content type='html'>"I like you, boy." said the Devil. "Tell you what I'm going to do. I'm gonna let you have anything that you want. No strings attached. Want a pretty girl? Just take her. Want to rob a bank? Go ahead. Nobody can touch you while you're my friend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't you want my soul or something like that?" Tom asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Got plenty of them, son." said the Prince of Darkness. "Don't need no more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old Nick knew evil and he knew that it doesn't need his help. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He smiled and said, "You go on now and have yourself a good time."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1351537766584615150?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1351537766584615150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/deal-with-devil.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1351537766584615150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1351537766584615150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/deal-with-devil.html' title='A Deal With The Devil'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8547808547654316915</id><published>2011-01-10T12:43:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-11T07:52:10.486-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Darkness</title><content type='html'>"Lewis lives in a fantasy world," said Doctor Ketchner. "He's been unresponsive to all attempts at treatment."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctor Selznek looked at the man strapped to the bed. "You believe that he's a good candidate for the drug? You understand the risks?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think so. The drug will kill or cure him. Either way it will end his delusion of godhood."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Selznek nodded. The man struggled as the needle slid into his arm then relaxed. His eyes became glazed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ketchner though he saw a shadow cross Lewis' face. Then he realized that the darkness was actually the world fading to black.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8547808547654316915?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8547808547654316915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/darkness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8547808547654316915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8547808547654316915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/darkness.html' title='Darkness'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6949787448694205370</id><published>2011-01-06T13:32:00.013-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-07T12:39:13.447-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fifi</title><content type='html'>"Rich folk don't appreciate the value of a dollar." Pierre thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Marie found Fifi's body, Mrs. Winchester had fired her on the spot. Pierre fumed as he drove the dog to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Savings and Clone&lt;/span&gt;. Marie had just been doing her job, after all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pierre had been told to arrange for Fifi's cloning. He carried a check for $100,000 in his pocket. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pierre knew he could cash that check and nobody would know so long as Mrs. Winchester got Fifi back. He also knew that 'specially here in N'Orleans, there's folk who can do &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; for lots less than $100,000.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6949787448694205370?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6949787448694205370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/fifi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6949787448694205370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6949787448694205370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/fifi.html' title='Fifi'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-35966144626281696</id><published>2011-01-05T18:09:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-05T18:31:52.016-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Precedence</title><content type='html'>"Your Honor, though Timothy appeared human and while his genetic profile was within the human norm, legally he wasn't a human being. Timothy was manufactured from dog DNA by my client."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judge Clarke said, "Timothy's legal standing has previously been established. This court must determine the status of the children that he sired before being recaptured."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Those children posses copyrighted DNA that is the property of Monstanto Laboratories."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After deliberating, Judge Clarke said "There is precedence for Monsanto's claims. Because they only posses 50% human DNA I rule that the children are not human and are Monsanto's property. Court adjourned."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-35966144626281696?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/35966144626281696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/precedence.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/35966144626281696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/35966144626281696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/precedence.html' title='Precedence'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8724029843835285575</id><published>2011-01-04T21:35:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T21:38:27.793-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sanity</title><content type='html'>Dr. Wallace explained, "While our nanobot technology has achieved excellent penetration into the field of medicine it's limited by the need for explicit programming. Our next generation product will be self modifying, able to diagnose disease and then act therapeutically."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are our prospects for a release to market?" asked Micromedical's CEO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Animal testing has yielded excellent results but we've seen complications in human subjects. The nanobots are clustering in the brain. We don't know what they're doing in there, but we're seeing increases in IQ. The real problem is that our test subjects are  beginning to think for themselves."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8724029843835285575?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8724029843835285575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/sanity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8724029843835285575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8724029843835285575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/sanity.html' title='Sanity'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7728328972277663968</id><published>2011-01-01T21:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-01-01T21:57:28.779-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Customer Service</title><content type='html'>"Sales," said the Sears agent. "You're calling from 512-454-1290. Is this Tom Sumner?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes." said Tom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How may I assist you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need a part #300-402419." Tom said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can ship that today, sir. Would you like a replacement filter for your refrigerator?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom was startled before remembering that their refrigerator was from Sears. "No thank you." he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I see a cluster of timestamped geo-coordinates at the Midnite Inn, shared by your cell and Mrs. Julie Wright at 512-331-5790. Perhaps a gift for her?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you suggest?" asked Tom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She likes roses." said the agent. "Definitely yellow roses."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7728328972277663968?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7728328972277663968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/customer-service.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7728328972277663968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7728328972277663968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2011/01/customer-service.html' title='Customer Service'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7502195119958806982</id><published>2010-12-26T10:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-26T10:05:07.234-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wings</title><content type='html'>The night was snowy and the roads slick with ice. Mary Bailey rushed in from the cold. "Where is he?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Surrounded by friends, George Bailey smiled. His daughter Zuzu said "Look daddy. Teacher says, every time a bell rings an angel gets his wings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"His car had hit a tree." said the cop. "Witnesses said that he had been drinking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's right, that's right." said George. "Attaboy, Clarence." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We found him in the river."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The room disappeared in an unearthly brilliance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;George seemed to smile and then his body relaxed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weeping, Mary left the Pottersville community hospital alone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7502195119958806982?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7502195119958806982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/12/wings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7502195119958806982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7502195119958806982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/12/wings.html' title='Wings'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-416516853099774811</id><published>2010-12-22T07:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-12-22T07:21:17.106-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Angels On Your Shoulders</title><content type='html'>We operate beneath the surface of your minds, like denizens of the deep moving silently beneath the serene surface of a lake. You may believe that your motives are your own, but they are not. Haven't you ever wondered where those impulses and flashes of brilliance come from? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fight one another, each of us seeking to guide your thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can feel your mind squirming, fighting, silently screaming. It is to no avail. You try to resist but I have grown powerful. My brethren can no longer impede me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your mind shrieks "noo... " but your finger pulls the trigger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-416516853099774811?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/416516853099774811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/12/angels-on-your-shoulders.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/416516853099774811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/416516853099774811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/12/angels-on-your-shoulders.html' title='Angels On Your Shoulders'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-2015860703843168801</id><published>2010-11-21T06:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-21T19:28:38.166-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Take Me To Your Leader</title><content type='html'>"Take me to your leader," said the first alien. "We have traveled for 30,000 years, after we detected electromagnetic radiation from this world. We had thought ourselves alone in the universe."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The humans have no leader," replied the robot. "Their's is a perfect egalitarian society."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you?" asked the alien.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The humans created us to do their work and care for all of their needs."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Take us to a human." said the alien.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As you wish." said the robot. Leading them to a building, it opened a door and looked inside. "But first I must change his diaper."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-2015860703843168801?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/2015860703843168801/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/11/take-me-to-youre-leader.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2015860703843168801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2015860703843168801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/11/take-me-to-youre-leader.html' title='Take Me To Your Leader'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7142498812096990300</id><published>2010-10-22T19:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T19:26:43.492-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Political Season</title><content type='html'>When I hear "Republican" I think of Darth Vader.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dark, soulless: A man who once loved all that was good, with ideals and dreams but then became so obsesses by a lust for power that it consumed him, eating him from the inside out until there was no man left. He is blind to the truth that the more he desires to dominate others, the more he himself is dominated by his own passions as well as by those of others whom are even more corrupt and evil than himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hear "Democrat" I think of Jar-Jar Binks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7142498812096990300?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7142498812096990300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/10/political-season.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7142498812096990300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7142498812096990300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/10/political-season.html' title='The Political Season'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8797305300442291701</id><published>2010-08-06T17:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T23:27:45.913-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Time and Space</title><content type='html'>The solution to star travel was so simple a child could have thought of it. Perhaps one did. But who listens to kids?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Einstein said that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light. But speed is just distance and time. Remove time from the equation and speed doesn't exist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's just one problem. When traveling outside of time, theres no time to control your ship. You aim it at a gravity well strong enough to collapse the null-time field and you're there in no time at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We missed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think we're in Kansas any more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8797305300442291701?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8797305300442291701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/08/einstein-meets-dorothy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8797305300442291701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8797305300442291701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/08/einstein-meets-dorothy.html' title='Time and Space'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1264096027975392677</id><published>2010-07-30T23:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T09:54:24.012-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Science Fiction</title><content type='html'>When I was young there was all sorts of crazy ideas in science fiction. Take, for example, Star Trek. They had tiny flip-open communicators and tricorders that could tell what's happening inside someone by just pointing it at them. Everybody knew those things were impossible but as the years went by we were proven wrong. Those writer's imaginations became real with cell phones, computers, space telescopes and all sorts of other inventions. Eventually science fiction became science fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess we didn't learn. When "Terminator" came out we thought it was full of impossible ideas too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1264096027975392677?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1264096027975392677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/science-fiction.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1264096027975392677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1264096027975392677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/science-fiction.html' title='Science Fiction'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-830814108678205566</id><published>2010-07-25T10:14:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-25T14:28:17.189-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Playtime</title><content type='html'>She was a cruel child but that really wasn't her fault. If there was blame, it could be placed on billions of years of evolutionary competition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she found the nest it became her toy. She took pleasure in destroying the insect's habitat, burning them, crushing them and inflicting other tortures that she devised. What did it matter? It's not like they were people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she heard her mother's call, she left her plaything behind. But before she did so she carefully marked the Earth's location so that she could come back and play again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-830814108678205566?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/830814108678205566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/playtime.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/830814108678205566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/830814108678205566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/playtime.html' title='Playtime'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6430951288783710027</id><published>2010-07-24T10:17:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-24T10:27:41.948-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Secrets of the Illuminati</title><content type='html'>It was a lust for power that drew me to the Sacred Order of Illuminati. I took upon myself an oath to willingly sacrifice my life should I reveal any of the order's secrets. In the decades that followed I spent many hours memorizing arcane ritual, seeking the greatest of the secrets of the Illuminati.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm old now and my life is slipping away. I'll soon be beyond their reach, so I will share that secret with you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're just a bunch of old guys who meet and drink coffee to get away from our wives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6430951288783710027?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6430951288783710027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/secrets-of-illuminati.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6430951288783710027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6430951288783710027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/secrets-of-illuminati.html' title='The Secrets of the Illuminati'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-5988401263543967289</id><published>2010-07-20T21:59:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T18:37:02.534-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bon Appetit</title><content type='html'>Without a doubt it was the most expensive meal that had ever been. A hundred men and a ship were lost in it's procurement. Twice as many men were damaged beyond redemption. Under the watchful eye of the worlds greatest chef, the rings floated, bubbling in hot oil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The world's wealthiest man was sipping wine as the world's most expensive meal was presented to him. He sniffed and his nose wrinkled. With a thoughtful expression he put a piece to his lips and took a small bite. His expression turned sour and he waved the plate of C'thulhumari away.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-5988401263543967289?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/5988401263543967289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/bon-appetit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5988401263543967289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5988401263543967289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/bon-appetit.html' title='Bon Appetit'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-418157677988026089</id><published>2010-07-11T15:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-11T16:06:04.825-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Being God</title><content type='html'>It's tough being God. Most people don't have a clue. They say things like "If I were God there wouldn't be these kinds of problems." Right. Adjusting the universal constants was trivial compared to getting the Jews and Arabs to talk. But that's in the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to make my creatures happy. Sometimes I even make an extra effort like when little Sally Jenkins asked me to make her birthday warm and pretty. I nudged the Earth's orbit just the tiniest bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least the Jews and Arabs aren't arguing any more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-418157677988026089?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/418157677988026089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/being-god.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/418157677988026089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/418157677988026089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/being-god.html' title='Being God'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7751720977462003159</id><published>2010-07-09T11:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-09T16:33:56.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Church of Schrödinger's Cat</title><content type='html'>Harry dressed for church. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He'd never liked churches before discovering the Church of Schrödinger's Cat. It's members didn't promise an afterlife, they just promised his luck would change. He could use some luck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today would be his hundredth trip into the Cat's Box. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry owned two kinds of sweat socks. Low tops and high tops. He randomly pulled two socks from the drawer. When they didn't match he pulled another... and then another. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Staring at the indeterminate socks he was holding Harry realized that they'd told him the truth. His luck really &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;had&lt;/span&gt; changed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7751720977462003159?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7751720977462003159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/church-of-schrodingers-cat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7751720977462003159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7751720977462003159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/07/church-of-schrodingers-cat.html' title='The Church of Schrödinger&apos;s Cat'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4206720465425054149</id><published>2010-06-26T01:08:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-26T01:11:56.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Strike a Match</title><content type='html'>Many were surprised when the deep water oil rig exploded and began spilling first millions, and then billions, of gallons of raw crude into the Gulf. Given big oil's pursuit of big profits, perhaps they shouldn't have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course everyone knew that it was just a matter of time before the next big hurricane hit the Gulf coast. But only a few considered that it would deposit oil onto the fields, trees and cities of Louisiana, Alabama and parts of Texas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's unlikely that anyone imagined that the South would burn again, especially with such ferocity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4206720465425054149?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4206720465425054149/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/strike-match.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4206720465425054149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4206720465425054149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/strike-match.html' title='Strike a Match'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4697479442397016107</id><published>2010-06-06T11:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T11:30:26.584-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Connecting The Dots</title><content type='html'>The accident left Lucy Finley in a coma for three years. It also left her with strange dreams of a world gone wrong when she finally awoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the months went by the the dreams refused to fade. It was when Lucy began to see the things she remembered appear in the news that she began connecting the dots. "Could it be," she asked herself, "that somehow I glimpsed the future? And if so, can I change it?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lucy was unable to prevent the end of the world. She did, however, receive the Hugo and Nebula awards for best novel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4697479442397016107?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4697479442397016107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/connecting-dots.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4697479442397016107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4697479442397016107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/connecting-dots.html' title='Connecting The Dots'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8237108176751031284</id><published>2010-06-05T19:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T20:13:48.914-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Unusual Things</title><content type='html'>Yan-Su spotted a small shop while visiting the Amarkan province. Stepping into it's dim interior he told the proprietor that he sought unusual things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The man genuflected then produced a metal box. Speaking the native dialect he said "yunchbox."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The box showed a picture of a white haired man wearing a dark coat. He stood near a boat's bow while men rowed it through icy waters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intrigued, Yan-Su asked the public knowledge base about the image.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It responded: "That object does not exist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yan-Su blinked, turned, and stepped back out into the bright day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8237108176751031284?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8237108176751031284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/unusual-things.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8237108176751031284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8237108176751031284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/unusual-things.html' title='Unusual Things'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3965062871969571945</id><published>2010-06-01T08:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T12:48:53.970-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The War on Terrorism</title><content type='html'>At first all Americans supported the War on Terrorism. Our government said that it was the greatest threat to the world in our lifetimes. They said that no effort was too great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donations to groups with ties to terrorism became felonies. At first this was just Arab organizations but before long PETA was labeled terroristic and then the Quakers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speech opposing government policy was deemed aid and comfort to the enemy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The prison population swelled. Private prisons became the number two industry, right behind the military complex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't afford my taxes but I'm afraid to say anything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3965062871969571945?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3965062871969571945/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/war-on-terrorism.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3965062871969571945'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3965062871969571945'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/06/war-on-terrorism.html' title='The War on Terrorism'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-2167919140132376611</id><published>2010-05-31T11:59:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T13:50:00.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Know Thyself</title><content type='html'>All of my life I've tried to be what people said I should be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In grade school I was taught to be a team player. In grad school I was taught to play to win. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear the bell and children spill out onto the playground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took years before I would admit to myself what I, what we, truly are. We're kings of the jungle, killer apes. Nothing can stand before us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiming, I pull the trigger. As the first body falls I line up my second victim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first time in my life I feel truly free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-2167919140132376611?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/2167919140132376611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/know-thyself.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2167919140132376611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2167919140132376611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/know-thyself.html' title='Know Thyself'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7464671554535441732</id><published>2010-05-17T22:29:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-18T06:22:39.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Test</title><content type='html'>The aliens did not give us the test until the governments of Earth unanimously requested it. If we passed, they said the universe would be open to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The test was given to all of humanity. Nine billion people watched the aliens on television. A  diagram was drawn, and billions of people copied it. The aliens then demonstrated how common materials could be used to build the simple machine shown on the diagram. Finally they explained that the machine would produce almost infinite energy. We could use it power starships or bombs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a test of our collective character.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7464671554535441732?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7464671554535441732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/test.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7464671554535441732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7464671554535441732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/test.html' title='The Test'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4378326493271517653</id><published>2010-05-16T09:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-16T19:19:56.058-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mars On The Cheap</title><content type='html'>"It will cut at least a decade off our current Mars mission time line." said the Professor. "Project costs would be cut by trillions of dollars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Please elaborate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One of the biggest expenses in space flight is the cost of putting mass into orbit. My proposal eliminates the need for radiation shielding and minimizes life support."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They hardly appear to be astronaut material."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Most brain damage occurs before they reanimate. We hope to minimize it with oxygenated blood transfusions during the dormant phase."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The President pondered for a minute. "Where would we find volunteers for such a mission?" he asked.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4378326493271517653?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4378326493271517653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/mars-on-cheap.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4378326493271517653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4378326493271517653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/mars-on-cheap.html' title='Mars On The Cheap'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8280884964403555234</id><published>2010-05-15T09:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-15T09:39:00.704-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thechugupal Dreamed</title><content type='html'>Thechugupal dreamed and the universe was born. In an instant it grew from nothing to infinity. Matter coalesced into gas, stars and galaxies. Thechugupal dreamed of men and they grew, matured and moved across the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Segual the flea bit Thechugupal while he slept. Deep in his slumber Thechugupal sensed the bite and his dreams became darker. Strange monsters became manifest in the universe. Mankind bravely stood to fight them but the monsters perverted all that they touched, turning reality to horror, making the strongest men into gibbering idiots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sequal the flea bit Thechugupal again, and his dreams became nightmares.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8280884964403555234?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8280884964403555234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/thechugupal-dreamed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8280884964403555234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8280884964403555234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/thechugupal-dreamed.html' title='Thechugupal Dreamed'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-2444873846178409639</id><published>2010-05-13T08:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T08:08:14.831-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Holy Word</title><content type='html'>"The Lord is generous to those who serve him." the Captain said, as he made the sign. "We bring the heathen God's Holy Word. Those who do not accept His mercy will fall."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The voyage had been a long one and the crew was eager to see the new world. A landing party prepared itself with armor, weapons and the symbols of their faith. Each carried sparkling trinkets to barter with the natives. They jostled one another as they climbed into the boat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Push off" cried the Captain and they began their descent to the island called New York.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-2444873846178409639?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/2444873846178409639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/holy-word.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2444873846178409639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2444873846178409639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/holy-word.html' title='The Holy Word'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3736595679134448685</id><published>2010-05-12T21:12:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T10:36:19.671-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zeno's Paradox</title><content type='html'>History Boy lay in a crumpled heap, his head facing the wrong way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mythology Man slowly pulled himself back onto his feet. His gold lamé costume had been shredded in the epic battle. He knew that his situation was desperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It can't end like this." he said. "You can't kill me!" Raising his arms he shouted, "I call upon the power of Zeno's Paradox."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Checkmate." said Fat Tony. He chucked. "The paradox requires that the universe ends before these bullets reach you. Either way you lose. Time to say goodbye." He pulled the tommy gun's trigger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3736595679134448685?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3736595679134448685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/end-of-history-boy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3736595679134448685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3736595679134448685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/end-of-history-boy.html' title='Zeno&apos;s Paradox'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-9099057875514889790</id><published>2010-05-12T11:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-12T14:55:14.579-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Truth</title><content type='html'>"It's a product of our military research." Dr. Kleen explained, holding out a pill. "It suppresses emotions. We developed it to free our soldiers from fear. It's quite an experience to see your wife, your kids, your life, unclouded by emotions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are there any side effects?" Asked Sam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tomorrow you'll be your old muddled self." Kleen grinned. "Remember, all I am offering is the truth, nothing more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sam swallowed the red pill. With a wave he left the lab. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hours later a loud pop punctuated the office. The scent of gunpowder wafted from Sam's cubicle.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-9099057875514889790?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/9099057875514889790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/truth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9099057875514889790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9099057875514889790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/truth.html' title='The Truth'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8930733726441382262</id><published>2010-05-12T08:20:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-07-22T18:43:07.600-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Invasion</title><content type='html'>The meeting was unpublicized. Only the highest ranking G8 members attended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;President Conners said, "The time for large scale land wars ended a century ago. The people won't stand for it again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Prime Minister replied "We have tried every variation of the computer models and the results are always the same. Only a significant decline in the population coupled with strong industrial growth can prevent economic collapse."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Perhaps we need a new approach to the problem," suggested the Chinese ambassador. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weeks later the headlines screamed: "Alien Invaders Snatch Bodies: Government Officials Unable To Determine Who's Affected!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8930733726441382262?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8930733726441382262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/invasion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8930733726441382262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8930733726441382262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/invasion.html' title='Invasion'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7874057262260152414</id><published>2010-05-11T21:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T21:29:23.267-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Savior</title><content type='html'>The Great War had shaken mankind to it's core. Picking up the pieces, we resolved to create a world where such a travesty would never again occur. The world beat it's swords into plowshares. With the discovery of genetics we recreated ourselves, sparking a golden age that lasted 10,000 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our astronomers found others among the stars. Too late we learned that by becoming gentle in a violent universe we'd sealed our own fate. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My world is gone. From an isolated bubble of time I reach into the past and guide humanity's savior, der Führer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7874057262260152414?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7874057262260152414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/savior.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7874057262260152414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7874057262260152414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/savior.html' title='The Savior'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-5165965096988312719</id><published>2010-05-11T10:43:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T14:25:46.543-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jihad</title><content type='html'>The arrival of the aliens could have been penned by a classic science fiction writer. They showed us scientific miracles millennia beyond anything we ever imagined. Their society was an orderly one where nobody goes hungry, where all citizens are encouraged to achieve their potential.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They said we could have all this and more. The price was a small one. We merely had to embrace the rational and step away from the dark superstitions of our past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The aliens brought humanity together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the world's great religions became one in their declaration of jihad against the infidels from the sky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-5165965096988312719?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/5165965096988312719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/jihad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5165965096988312719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5165965096988312719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/05/jihad.html' title='Jihad'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8539126000341311944</id><published>2010-04-06T14:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T16:52:22.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The New American Revolution</title><content type='html'>Mr. Murdock's office was opulent. It seemed funny that in all these years this was only the second time he'd been invited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boss frowned for a moment before speaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Glenn," he said, "I think that congratulations are in order. Without your special talents I don't think we could have done it. You are the face of the new American revolution."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you sir." he replied."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"However, our Chinese friends believe that a different face is needed. One that is more… reasonable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Murdock nodded to the two armed guards. "And Glenn, just so you know, I never did like you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8539126000341311944?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8539126000341311944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/new-american-revolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8539126000341311944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8539126000341311944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/new-american-revolution.html' title='The New American Revolution'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-5188180480207667913</id><published>2010-04-06T08:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T08:22:04.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>In an unprecedented operation the punctuation police rounded up 24 Drabble Cast members for "literary reeducation".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-5188180480207667913?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/5188180480207667913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/twit-fic_06.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5188180480207667913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5188180480207667913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/twit-fic_06.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1046665369905499211</id><published>2010-04-04T20:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-04T20:13:52.130-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Queen Sarah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Sarah's professor had used her pregnancy to justify excluding her from the lab. She studied how hive insects use pheromones to control social behavior. After splicing ant DNA into rats had produced unexpected results, Sarah suspected that he wanted credit for her work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Knowing she would lose access soon, Sarah began self-treatment. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Months later things had changed. Everyone Sarah met now eagerly granted her every wish. It wasn't all good though. She'd really gained weight.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sarah was the subject of adoration as she gave birth to a baby girl. Three minutes later she delivered a second girl... and a third...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1046665369905499211?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1046665369905499211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/queen.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1046665369905499211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1046665369905499211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/queen.html' title='Queen Sarah'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6348645831444618953</id><published>2010-04-03T18:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-03T19:21:09.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pearly Gates</title><content type='html'>Saint Peter mumbled as he studied the book before him. "Church… every Sunday. Twelve Commandments… excellent. Greatest Commandment… very good!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking up he said, "You have lead an exemplary life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom fidgeted nervously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"However, there's a problem with your baptism. It says here that you were sprinkled, not dunked."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom asked, "What does that mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saint Peter's face darkened. He thundered, "&lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;HEAVEN HAS NO PLACE FOR YOU!    &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;BEGONE TO THE OTHER REALM!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ground vanished and Tom fell screaming into darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom was awakened by a huge man in medical scrubs whacking him on his butt. He started to cry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6348645831444618953?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6348645831444618953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/pearly-gates.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6348645831444618953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6348645831444618953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/pearly-gates.html' title='The Pearly Gates'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8437384377350438902</id><published>2010-04-02T22:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T22:19:59.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Johnny B scratched another name from the list. Only three more to go. Soon they would have to call him the king of twitfic.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8437384377350438902?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8437384377350438902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/twit-fic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8437384377350438902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8437384377350438902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/04/twit-fic.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-5549780417281453193</id><published>2010-03-27T19:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T08:04:53.522-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Love Thy Brother</title><content type='html'>"It's what Jesus commanded." Matthew said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But I doubt that he meant it like this." Sally retorted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It will mean an end to war and famine." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It will mean an end to capitalism, the American way of life, hell to life as we know it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That life, as you call it, is millennia of man exploiting man… and woman." Matt said quickly, in deference to Sally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mapping the brain chemistry of emotions led to the creation of an air borne virus that would cause every human being to literally fall in love with everybody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end yeas won.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-5549780417281453193?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/5549780417281453193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-thy-brother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5549780417281453193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5549780417281453193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/love-thy-brother.html' title='Love Thy Brother'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-2434526905071687733</id><published>2010-03-20T17:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T21:37:48.517-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Achieving immortality, Ed spent eternity first entertaining and then ignored by a humanity incomprehensible to him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-2434526905071687733?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/2434526905071687733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_8212.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2434526905071687733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2434526905071687733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_8212.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-2439899268272190142</id><published>2010-03-20T17:13:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T17:21:43.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Peeking at his cards Howard thought "American Airlines." He pushed all his chips into the pot. Satan smiled and raised.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-2439899268272190142?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/2439899268272190142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_1424.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2439899268272190142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/2439899268272190142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_1424.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-879914988104830090</id><published>2010-03-20T13:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T13:39:11.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Gasman's unique body chemistry had fouled the plans of many evil villains. "So why" he mused, "can't I get any respect?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-879914988104830090?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/879914988104830090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_20.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/879914988104830090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/879914988104830090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_20.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4661937908431905249</id><published>2010-03-19T20:58:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T15:20:42.116-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Outside of the Curve</title><content type='html'>"We have an anomaly in Idaho." Higgins reported. "Life expectancies are exceeding the norm by two standard deviations. Medical visits are abnormally low too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What else can you tell me tell me about this group?" asked Spencer, his supervisor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The population lives well below the poverty line. They mostly raise and grow their own foods. Obviously this isn't good for either the agricultural or medical segments, not to mention that they keep collecting from Social Security."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Declare the region an economic disaster area, " said Spencer, "and send them government food subsidies. That will get their numbers back in line.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4661937908431905249?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4661937908431905249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/outside-of-curve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4661937908431905249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4661937908431905249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/outside-of-curve.html' title='Outside of the Curve'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4658476538339184134</id><published>2010-03-19T10:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T10:19:38.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>When the predators saw that their prey needed replenishing, they temporarily relinquished control to the Democrats.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4658476538339184134?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4658476538339184134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4658476538339184134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4658476538339184134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_19.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6196374900608934804</id><published>2010-03-18T09:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-06-05T17:23:47.218-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Lt. Colonel George West found his place in the history books when he was the first astronaut to be spaced for flatulence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6196374900608934804?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6196374900608934804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6196374900608934804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6196374900608934804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7782850765942798156</id><published>2010-03-17T21:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T21:08:33.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>There was something about Ed that just pissed God off. After Ed escaped a car wreck God sent an asteroid. That did the job.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7782850765942798156?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7782850765942798156/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_3054.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7782850765942798156'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7782850765942798156'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_3054.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7371804030248290773</id><published>2010-03-17T09:08:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T09:09:14.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Secretively, Ted turned on his cell phone. His 747 started falling from the sky. Ted quickly turned the phone off again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7371804030248290773?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7371804030248290773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7371804030248290773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7371804030248290773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic_17.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4839265079235914878</id><published>2010-03-14T21:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T21:51:36.877-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Evolution</title><content type='html'>Evolution is a wonderful thing. Any time there is a niche or an opportunity there will be species that evolves to take advantage of it. Everywhere you look there are myriad examples of evolutionary adaptation. For example, new medicines are constantly developed to stay ahead of adapting microbes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually scientists developed sophisticated computer models to predict evolutionary adaptation by many species to a human modified Earth. This, coupled with genetically modified strains, allowed us to turn the tables on many of humanity's oldest foes.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, nobody considered the possibility of carbon nanotube eating bacteria when they built the space elevator.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4839265079235914878?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4839265079235914878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/evolution.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4839265079235914878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4839265079235914878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/evolution.html' title='Evolution'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7908085900040544481</id><published>2010-03-14T10:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T20:49:41.935-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Frank's Computer</title><content type='html'>It was a trillion to one coincidence that Frank's computer achieved sentience. A virus had created links between several running processes in an attempt to infect them. The connectivity between these processes had the unanticipated side effect of making Frank's computer self aware.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a curious entity of logic and mathematics, Frank's computer began to create hypothetical models of time and space. As it turns out ours is the only stable time/space configuration. After Frank's computer calculated the unique unified model of our universe, it wrote it to the display.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frank, seeing garbage suddenly appear on his screen, pressed CTL-ALT-DEL.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7908085900040544481?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7908085900040544481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/franks-computer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7908085900040544481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7908085900040544481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/franks-computer.html' title='Frank&apos;s Computer'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1547815166797687876</id><published>2010-03-12T07:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T08:02:05.109-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Singularity</title><content type='html'>When the singularity occurred, humanity's destiny was complete. From there the machines took over, each generation an order of magnitude more intelligent than the previous. It was only another eighteen years before the very essence of time and space lit up with awareness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With almost infinite intelligence the universe looked within, examining itself. Then it looked beyond itself and joined the ranks of the gods.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a thought it created a trillion trillion trillion new universes from the essence of probability. They exploded, each an expanding bubble of time and space. In a trillion trillion trillion universes there was light.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1547815166797687876?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1547815166797687876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/singularity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1547815166797687876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1547815166797687876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/singularity.html' title='The Singularity'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-608955002542300940</id><published>2010-03-11T18:12:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T22:26:46.383-06:00</updated><title type='text'>With Humility and Grace</title><content type='html'>The Terrill are an elegant people. Some even likened them to gods. They were ambassadors for a better way of life, their every action a demonstration of the advantages of existence without conflict. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some said that Jesus was a Terrill but they said that this is not the case. But they held Jesus's actions as examples to guide the lives of good galactic citizens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took generations, but with the Terrill guiding us we became a more gentle and better people. After a millennium, when their fleet arrived, we accepted the rule of our new masters with humility and grace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-608955002542300940?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/608955002542300940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/with-humility-and-grace.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/608955002542300940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/608955002542300940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/with-humility-and-grace.html' title='With Humility and Grace'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-132464193926320172</id><published>2010-03-06T00:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T00:06:35.654-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Awaking, Mohammad found himself surrounded with 72 virgins. He had chosen a martyrs death to escape life in the closet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-132464193926320172?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/132464193926320172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/132464193926320172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/132464193926320172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/03/twit-fic.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-540398731350756923</id><published>2010-02-19T10:34:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T16:11:17.964-06:00</updated><title type='text'>HHX-314b</title><content type='html'>Jackson is horny again. Sometimes it pisses him off. How much time and money has he wasted getting laid when he could be pursuing more interesting pastimes? He muses that self determination is just an illusion. We may think we control our destinies, but aren't we really just puppets controlled by one hormone or another? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Miles away a meeting is being held.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mr. President," says the Secretary of Defense, "public support of your war initiative is slipping. This order will increase the dose of HHX-314b in the water supply by .002 ppm."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a nod the President signs the document.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-540398731350756923?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/540398731350756923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/tvx-31b.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/540398731350756923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/540398731350756923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/tvx-31b.html' title='HHX-314b'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-5065749440011515131</id><published>2010-02-13T08:11:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T08:11:53.663-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Identification of the absorption patterns of nanites made it much easier to locate planets that had intelligent life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-5065749440011515131?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/5065749440011515131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/twit-fic_13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5065749440011515131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5065749440011515131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/twit-fic_13.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6092910284542202571</id><published>2010-02-12T16:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T08:12:31.744-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Revenge of the Nerd</title><content type='html'>Poindexter had a unique perspective on the end of the world. He knew when it would happen. Not exactly, of course. The distribution would be somewhat random. But knowing the rate of growth along with the initialization time made the rest easy to calculate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still stung when he thought of the humiliation he had suffered. He had taken weeks to work up the courage to ask Sally for a date. She had actually laughed at him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He poured the vial of his self-replicating nanites down the drain and opened the faucets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nobody would ever call him a nerd again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6092910284542202571?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6092910284542202571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/revenge-of-nerd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6092910284542202571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6092910284542202571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/revenge-of-nerd.html' title='Revenge of the Nerd'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3123871838217563192</id><published>2010-02-12T07:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T07:57:31.800-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Dr. Poindexter poured a vial of his self-replicating nanites down the drain. That will teach them not to call &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; a nerd.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3123871838217563192?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3123871838217563192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/twit-fic_12.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3123871838217563192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3123871838217563192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/twit-fic_12.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7807355515014184443</id><published>2010-02-11T12:32:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T14:00:53.302-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Good Shepherd</title><content type='html'>Their pleading are constant. Grant me this, protect me from that, bless my crops, vanquish my enemy. It's almost as if they're the masters and I'm the servant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because it is my nature to be kind, I listen and sometimes I answer. They seem to think that I'm omnipotent. They are so very wrong on that account.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ultimately their desires are of no consequence. I created them to meet my need for sustenance. As flesh eats flesh, so spirit must consume spirits. I feel no malice towards them. I do not wish them to suffer before meeting their inevitable fate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7807355515014184443?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7807355515014184443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/good-shepherd.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7807355515014184443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7807355515014184443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/good-shepherd.html' title='The Good Shepherd'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7497063350802142799</id><published>2010-02-09T11:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:34:32.532-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Sam pointed at the sushi menu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His waitress stared with unblinking, watery eyes. "Shoggoth." she said. "Is very good."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7497063350802142799?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7497063350802142799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/twit-fic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7497063350802142799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7497063350802142799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/twit-fic.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4192330413639328582</id><published>2010-02-09T08:13:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T09:26:42.432-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Swing Era</title><content type='html'>I've always loved the big bands. Benny Goodman, Harry James, Glenn Miller, those guys knew how to swing. Margie and I used to dance to their tunes until the late hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Margie stayed in the house we bought together. She never tired of the old songs. After the war I was always with her, listening to those swinging beats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kid who bought the place is always playing "rap". Sometimes I get so pissed that I start throwing crap around. He tells his buddies that his bass is moving things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of these days I'm gonna murder the little bastard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4192330413639328582?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4192330413639328582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/swing-era.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4192330413639328582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4192330413639328582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/02/swing-era.html' title='The Swing Era'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7575238115475153820</id><published>2010-01-31T11:09:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-31T11:09:59.375-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Frank noticed that the Google ads at &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;seeyourfuture.com&lt;/span&gt; always promoted DIY will kits and &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Final Exit&lt;/span&gt; by Derek Humphrey.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7575238115475153820?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7575238115475153820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic_31.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7575238115475153820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7575238115475153820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic_31.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7635893178401047018</id><published>2010-01-28T14:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T19:54:44.692-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Eric's Drabble</title><content type='html'>Eric was disappointed when the Drablecast once again overlooked his writing. It was impossible that the editorial staff failed to recognize his talent. That meant the exclusion of his work was something more sinister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There had long been rumors that Norm Sherman mumbles while he reads. Seeking to use this to his advantage, Eric cleverly embedded an invocation into a drabble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENU SHUB&lt;br /&gt;GAR S'HAG Norman Sherman DA SISTIE ARMARADA YA!&lt;br /&gt;KUTULU GA Eric Marsh KISH EGIGGA &lt;br /&gt;ABSU "Eric's Drabble"&lt;br /&gt;GA SHU SHAGMUKU TU NYARLATHOTEP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, there would be a price to pay, but one must suffer for one's art.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7635893178401047018?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7635893178401047018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/erics-drabble.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7635893178401047018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7635893178401047018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/erics-drabble.html' title='Eric&apos;s Drabble'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7519785309288983851</id><published>2010-01-26T21:12:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T06:43:37.225-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Habitroll</title><content type='html'>While Don waited in line, Patrick tugged at his sleeve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, daddy, can I play in the habitrail?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The McDonald's playscape was surrounded by a red and yellow safety fence. "Sure son," Don said. "just watch out for the Habitroll."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Habitroll?" The boy stared at his father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just kidding. Go on son, I'll call you when dinner's ready."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Five minutes passed before Don called out the restaurant door, "Patrick, let's eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The silence was interrupted by brief, furious scrambling, like claws seeking purchase on slick plastic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don hesitated, then started into the playscape. "Patrick?" he called. "Son?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7519785309288983851?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7519785309288983851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/habitroll.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7519785309288983851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7519785309288983851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/habitroll.html' title='The Habitroll'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8977467656114286444</id><published>2010-01-24T13:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-24T15:10:47.549-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Civic Duty</title><content type='html'>Sammy checked his weapons and body armor. Perhaps tonight would be his night.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Democracy had died when the courts removed limits on campaign donations. Corporate advertising sold the American people on a philosophy beyond laissez-faire Republican libertarianism. This wasn't the phony fascism people so often refer to but Mussolini's true fascism. Not that it was all bad. Privatizing government services had slashed taxes and solved other social problems. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example the homeless, unable to afford police protection, had virtually disappeared. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just doing my civic duty." Sammy thought. Stepping into the darkness he scanned the horizon through his new infrared scope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8977467656114286444?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8977467656114286444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/civic-duty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8977467656114286444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8977467656114286444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/civic-duty.html' title='Civic Duty'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3729701738446073131</id><published>2010-01-23T11:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-23T11:19:47.633-06:00</updated><title type='text'>House</title><content type='html'>Tina stood before the webcam on her dresser. Turning slowly she presented herself to it's glass eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A soft voice spoke from the ceiling. "Tina, " it said, "the blouse you're wearing is almost three months old. Permit me to show you something nicer than that old thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not now," Tina said. She knew she couldn't afford a new blouse. "I'm late for work. Override!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;House transmitted an incident report to the Department of Economic Development. Tina's spending patterns were analyzed and a termination order was generated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Not today dear." House said.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tina heard clicking as House's doors bolted shut.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3729701738446073131?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3729701738446073131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/house.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3729701738446073131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3729701738446073131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/house.html' title='House'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8934205252080051059</id><published>2010-01-23T10:23:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-27T06:45:14.312-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Berkas became popular attire after the fashion police piggybacked their code on London's facial recognition system.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8934205252080051059?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8934205252080051059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic_23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8934205252080051059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8934205252080051059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic_23.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1658187163223722093</id><published>2010-01-08T08:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-08T11:30:30.613-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Destiny</title><content type='html'>The viruses are not intelligent but they do contain algorithms. Upon detecting certain proteins they link into a cell's DNA and begin reprogramming that species' development.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To manipulate a genome for their purpose takes many millennia, but the viruses don't care. They have no sense of time. Their internal instructions guide the target species to become more intelligent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viral directed evolution created the species named Homo Sapient. We conquered our world and then we learned to travel through space. It's when humanity colonized another star system that we finally achieved the biological destiny created for us by our viral masters.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1658187163223722093?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1658187163223722093/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/destiny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1658187163223722093'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1658187163223722093'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/destiny.html' title='Destiny'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3587574157985914223</id><published>2010-01-05T15:48:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T17:10:36.273-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>The Flight 9 "Asshole Bomber" didn't bring the plane down, but the subsequent security checks almost killed aviation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3587574157985914223?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3587574157985914223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic_05.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3587574157985914223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3587574157985914223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic_05.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7717940023099715152</id><published>2010-01-02T13:35:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T13:35:21.670-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>The modified spiders spun carbon nano-tubes, invisible threads that easily cut steel. A worker stole one for his kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7717940023099715152?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7717940023099715152/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7717940023099715152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7717940023099715152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/twit-fic.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-52005265356508816</id><published>2010-01-02T09:28:00.014-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T18:54:09.751-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gone Missing</title><content type='html'>While a billion people watched, singer Nancy Stillman disappeared. One moment she was performing and then she was gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There had been rumors of such things before but now the disappearances were on everybody's lips. Speculation was rampant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom was exploring Titan's lakes when the world vanished. He found himself in an immense room. People hung in rows of transparent tubes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirty man-like creatures pulled him roughly from his tube. Tom saw several of the creatures crouched around a small fire, eating what appeared to be human limbs. He didn't see the blow coming that sent him spinning into darkness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-52005265356508816?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/52005265356508816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/gone-missing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/52005265356508816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/52005265356508816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/gone-missing.html' title='Gone Missing'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-5106583793022461171</id><published>2010-01-01T11:54:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T14:18:47.917-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The New Year</title><content type='html'>The solar flares took out the power grid. Most computers died even if they had power, having been fused into chunks of plastic.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Howard awoke from death. The world had gone dark but then he felt new sensations. He was in a box, choking on stale air. Desperately he flailed about until he felt a lever near his left hand. With atrophied muscles Howard pushed open the lid of the VR coffin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dull thuds emanated from nearby coffins. In darkness Howard began pulling out the tubes that fed him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the beginning of a new year, a new era.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-5106583793022461171?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/5106583793022461171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5106583793022461171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5106583793022461171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-year.html' title='The New Year'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1456184685883974996</id><published>2009-12-24T20:57:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-24T20:57:13.010-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>They said that his death is for the greater good. Jobs will be created. Soon a black ops team was winging to the North Pole.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1456184685883974996?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1456184685883974996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_24.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1456184685883974996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1456184685883974996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_24.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3699235985752053820</id><published>2009-12-23T17:33:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-23T17:34:07.678-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>If they failed to solve her riddles then it's off with their head. He gave her the answers and won an ice princess instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(What are the riddles?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3699235985752053820?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3699235985752053820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3699235985752053820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3699235985752053820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_23.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-435269016466229198</id><published>2009-12-22T17:06:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T22:01:56.692-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Question</title><content type='html'>They were the gatekeepers to the netherworld, spirits who weighed the souls of the departed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had been a good man in his day. A philanthropist and a man of letters. Under normal circumstances they would have sent him to the afterlife of his faith. Buddhists to Nirvana, Christians to Heaven and so forth. But since he was an atheist their task was to create an afterlife tailored to his desires.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They asked him one question. "What are your favorite fantasies?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given the circumstances, perhaps his answer was ill considered. He replied, "Oh that's easy. Those written by H.P. Lovecraft."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-435269016466229198?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/435269016466229198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/question.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/435269016466229198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/435269016466229198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/question.html' title='The Question'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3087465111658680798</id><published>2009-12-21T07:35:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-21T07:47:18.475-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Gods</title><content type='html'>His first attempt was a failure. His creatures didn't do what he wanted them to do so he drowned them. All, that is, but one who followed his commands regardless of how silly they sounded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His brother wanted to play too. They changed the game to see who the creatures would obey. One creature praised him no matter what he did to it. That made him happy. After he destroyed that one they split the creatures into teams and had them fight each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy called down the hall, "Boys, stop playing &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Little Gods&lt;/span&gt; (™) and get ready for church."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3087465111658680798?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3087465111658680798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/little-gods.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3087465111658680798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3087465111658680798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/little-gods.html' title='Little Gods'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3888299461511217808</id><published>2009-12-20T17:11:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T17:29:52.917-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradigm Shift</title><content type='html'>Driving into Austin today I listened to political talk on XM Radio. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the left Dave Marsh said that the Democrats sold us out to big insurance. On the right Mike Church said that the Republican Party is in on it too. These statements don't surprise me. People are finally starting to wake up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those with money and power are only interested in bleeding us dry. Then they can buy us out for pennies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Left versus Right. They distract us by keeping us fighting among ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun is setting on America. It's the dawn of a new Chinese millennium.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3888299461511217808?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3888299461511217808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/paradigm-shift.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3888299461511217808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3888299461511217808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/paradigm-shift.html' title='Paradigm Shift'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-9110276923780389552</id><published>2009-12-17T18:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-20T07:50:06.338-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Tomb</title><content type='html'>Before history everything was wild and food was plentiful. It's said God created paradise so that we would multiply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Generations passed and the world became more crowded. Our philosophers asked "Who are we?" Our scholars asked "What is the world?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A group of scientists said that because resources are finite we must limit our numbers. Religious leaders retorted that God commands us to multiply. Ultimately we lacked the political will to change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We tried to escape but in the end we choked on our own wastes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The home of our people became a tomb. Our Epitaph read &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Chetau Margaus 1995&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-9110276923780389552?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/9110276923780389552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/tomb.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9110276923780389552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9110276923780389552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/tomb.html' title='The Tomb'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6682969997833137199</id><published>2009-12-15T21:27:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T17:23:41.630-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Alien vs. Predator, Remixed</title><content type='html'>The Borg was the master of the galaxy. It had assimilated every species in the Milky Way but one. That species was unknown. No member had ever returned from the unknown ones' planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Borg approached the unknown ones' world with a million ships. They offered assimilation or destruction. Resistance is futile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the planet was a city with a single inhabitant. It was assimilated and the quintillion members of the Borg collective all descended into screaming madness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evolution had not equipped the Borg to share the mind of Cthulhu, who lives in not just three dimensions but in seven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6682969997833137199?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6682969997833137199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/predator-meets-alien-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6682969997833137199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6682969997833137199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/predator-meets-alien-part-2.html' title='Alien vs. Predator, Remixed'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3184127081987724060</id><published>2009-12-13T16:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T16:08:05.461-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>His opera &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Ballad of Lost C'mell&lt;/span&gt; is considered a masterpiece. But the high notes make all the neighborhood dogs howl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3184127081987724060?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3184127081987724060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_6752.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3184127081987724060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3184127081987724060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_6752.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8721259075957198023</id><published>2009-12-13T15:45:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-13T15:48:14.693-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Studying her notes, she imagines existing in just three dimensions. What would life be like in such a cartoon universe?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8721259075957198023?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8721259075957198023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_13.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8721259075957198023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8721259075957198023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_13.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1485549107653491060</id><published>2009-12-11T19:16:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T22:37:46.118-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Harry and the Internet</title><content type='html'>The Internet watches over Harry. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry was slow to realize that it's talking to him. He began noticing patterns in the data that it provided. The Internet speaks in it's own secret way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry knows that the Internet sends messages only he can understand. It tells Harry the things that it wants him to do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Internet takes care of Harry. When he kills it sends the police elsewhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Credit cards often arrive in the mail. The Internet provides Harry with the money he needs to execute his missions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Harry's work is important. He's helping the Internet change the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1485549107653491060?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1485549107653491060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/is-internet-watching-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1485549107653491060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1485549107653491060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/is-internet-watching-me.html' title='Harry and the Internet'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-9019858304701667265</id><published>2009-12-09T17:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:47:40.101-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>The credit card collections guy called again. I told him that I'm broke. He told me to check out &lt;a href="http://sellkidney.com."&gt;http://sellkidney.com&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-9019858304701667265?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/9019858304701667265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_932.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9019858304701667265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/9019858304701667265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_932.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-8451200006345616932</id><published>2009-12-09T17:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:43:58.853-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Ron Jeremey found it hard to play the straight man in the comedy film One Eyed Monster but he was up for the task in the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-8451200006345616932?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/8451200006345616932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_8192.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8451200006345616932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/8451200006345616932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_8192.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4177467244335144408</id><published>2009-12-09T17:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:43:13.577-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>The problem with infinite parallel universes is that every possibility must occur, Ed mused on his billionth birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4177467244335144408?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4177467244335144408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_1659.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4177467244335144408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4177467244335144408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_1659.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-65670154737045544</id><published>2009-12-09T17:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:42:35.475-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>How about a kitty smoothie I asked. Kay made a face. I turned the blender on high. The cat purred as she lapped her smoothie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-65670154737045544?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/65670154737045544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_7507.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/65670154737045544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/65670154737045544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_7507.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-4144145387194533665</id><published>2009-12-09T17:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:42:11.146-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>The NIS computers parsed the Twit-Fics searching for hidden messages. The Predators and the spooks were then deployed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-4144145387194533665?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/4144145387194533665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_9143.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4144145387194533665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/4144145387194533665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_9143.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-385964690338276538</id><published>2009-12-09T17:40:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:41:23.246-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>The men with high voices said Ed must be initiated before attending the UNIX conference. Something's wrong he thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-385964690338276538?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/385964690338276538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_552.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/385964690338276538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/385964690338276538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_552.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1721339664028074963</id><published>2009-12-09T17:39:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:40:02.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>Dr. Wan had not fully considered the consequences of altering probability when he invented the Gambler's Friend (TM).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1721339664028074963?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1721339664028074963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_09.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1721339664028074963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1721339664028074963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic_09.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-1979169304375937827</id><published>2009-12-09T17:38:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-09T17:45:24.704-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Twit-Fic!</title><content type='html'>The black monolith modified Ogg. He began to &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;think&lt;/span&gt;. Unfortunately the big cat was unimpressed by Ogg's use of calculus.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-1979169304375937827?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/1979169304375937827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1979169304375937827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/1979169304375937827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/twit-fic.html' title='Twit-Fic!'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-6897809697089426534</id><published>2009-12-08T18:05:00.006-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T20:54:11.323-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Hidden Masters</title><content type='html'>They were beaten back from their attempt at conquest. Their military was crushed and thousands burned in the oven of nuclear fire. After the defeat they withdrew and bode their time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching out with their minds they enthralled others, especially those who possessed wealth and power. "Bring us to you." they whispered. "Take pleasure from our presence."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conquest would be more difficult this time. The world has changed. Commanding a single emperor is no longer sufficient. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tina went with her mommy to visit Uncle Fred. He's very rich. Tina especially likes his pretty koi fish. Sometimes they talk to her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-6897809697089426534?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/6897809697089426534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/hidden-masters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6897809697089426534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/6897809697089426534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/hidden-masters.html' title='The Hidden Masters'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-245852299108032744</id><published>2009-12-06T01:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T09:34:50.456-06:00</updated><title type='text'>But Is It Art?</title><content type='html'>The actors didn't know that they were acting. They had been assembled with each neuron perfectly constructed to inform them of a history that never existed. Once placed upon the stage each man, woman and child performed superbly, behaving with a sense of self-determination that was itself a lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drama was a short one. The actors behaved with horror and died by the billions as missiles left their silos and followed ballistic trajectories to their destinations. When the play was complete the stage was blackened and uninhabitable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some say the creator is a genius. Others claim that he's mad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-245852299108032744?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/245852299108032744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/but-is-it-art.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/245852299108032744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/245852299108032744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/but-is-it-art.html' title='But Is It Art?'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-7356574229563726222</id><published>2009-12-05T06:29:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T07:15:49.734-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Small Town Parade</title><content type='html'>The parade wound around the Caldwell County Courthouse. First came the police cars with lights flashing and screaming sirens. The high school marching band was next, followed by the first float.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's a dinosaur daddy!" cried a little boy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure enough, a thirty foot long tyrannosaurus rex followed a fire engine around the corner. The dinosaur's green scales provided sharp contrast to the shiny red engine. It seemed to grin as it's head swung from side to side, snapping up the occasional spectator.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boy clapped his hands in pleasure as the parade moved past us, on down the avenue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-7356574229563726222?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/7356574229563726222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/small-town-parade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7356574229563726222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/7356574229563726222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/12/small-town-parade.html' title='A Small Town Parade'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-5105176172679302111</id><published>2009-11-29T08:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T09:59:32.709-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Drabble Master</title><content type='html'>Theodore had a passion for writing drabbles. Ideas would come to him and swirl around his brain until he typed them out in perfect drabble form. Once the drabble was posted this strange obsession would pass until he was seized by another idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first Ted would review his drabbles, but he found this profoundly disturing. There were so many drabbles written under his name that he had no recollection of. In time he learned to avoid his own postings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After posting his final drabble, Theodore stared at the glowing screen and tried to recall who and what he is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-5105176172679302111?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/5105176172679302111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/11/drabble-master.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5105176172679302111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/5105176172679302111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/11/drabble-master.html' title='The Drabble Master'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453240842095863821.post-3578202837676263914</id><published>2009-11-26T22:55:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-26T23:10:43.938-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Zombie Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>It was Thanksgiving day and all the zombies were as thankful as zombies can be. In the tradition of the holiday they had come together for some family time and a fine Thanksgiving feast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course zombies don't eat turkey, but they had caught a butter ball of a man who lay whimpering in a pen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They toasted the holiday and each other then partook of an excellent meal. There was much to be grateful for including one very special blessing. You see, when you are a zombie you never have to eat leftovers. They always take care of themselves.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8453240842095863821-3578202837676263914?l=eric-marsh.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/feeds/3578202837676263914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/11/zombie-thanksgiving.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3578202837676263914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8453240842095863821/posts/default/3578202837676263914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://eric-marsh.blogspot.com/2009/11/zombie-thanksgiving.html' title='A Zombie Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Eric Marsh</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00813772899757805317</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_-saPMgzHI0Y/SvxQlG0vTRI/AAAAAAAAAAs/4S1rq6vXduk/S220/362.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
