We’re Failing Our Children: repost from Sarah Hoyt’s blog.

And by “we” I mean writers and parents and teachers, and anyone who is supposed to give them an idea of how the world works. By “children” I mean those of us who were children in the last 50, maybe the last 70 years, and although the problem is most prevalent in America, it has […]… Continue reading We’re Failing Our Children: repost from Sarah Hoyt’s blog.

Wolfenstein: A New Order and Another Castle.

A solid discussion of violence in video games.  Snapper nails it.

The Headship Game: Game On!

Neither I nor Dalrock mean to imply either that biblical headship is "a game" or that it consists of the self-appointed-stud-bull attitude marketed as being "Alpha" or having what its marketers call "Game" (capital G).  They are in fact mutually incompatible, but are far nearer in form-- and this is Dalrock's point-- than either is to the culturally-popular emasculated gamma-male role that is too often mistaken for "being a Good Christian Husband."

Night-Time is Always the Worst: Ch 5

Jonas had never been so far up in all his life. The sidewalks he was used to had no railings because it was only twenty centimetres to the street, not hectametres. He walked more carefully, one hand against the reassuring wall. The air was clearer up here, and the early morning light was almost blue after thousands of yellow and grey-green mornings below. He looked again at the address as a tungsten-yellow Phœnix Valkyrie roared past, freely sharing bullets with the DPD at close range. Jonas pulled his coat around himself, thanked the OneTrueGod for a day out of the factory, and prayed for Clara's safety.

Night-Time is Always the Worst: Ch. 1

“What's the word, Feng,” he asked the alien as it hovered back and forth, stirring this pot...mixing that... “I just told the blue boy I ain't seen nothing,” he mumbled.  “You eating tonight?”

The White Cobra: The Lair of the Cobra

We pushed our way through the shattered city. All around us were the signs of a race without hope, an entire nation devoid of both love and life. "Is this what they saw at Pompeii?" I wondered. Men and women both, dead before they died.

The Final Sunday In Ordinary Time

The familiar carol's paradigm downshifted like McQueen and floored it, and I realized what the shepherds saw that had them "sore afraid."  

The Wolf’s Cry: Chapter Two

Were those footsteps?  He hid himself behind a massive oak—greater than any he had seen in Europe.  The trunk was more than five feet in diameter, and smelled musty—very musty.  He could almost smell the centuries of age in the bark. But there were the footsteps again!  This time he was sure of it.  He peered out around the trunk...

The White Cobra: The City of Cobras

Then a roar like the fall of a second Atlantis tore the jungle behind us.  The great pillar stood shuddering, and then it fell, smashing branches and saplings on its way.  It shook the ground when it fell, and the treetops parted ...

More Bedtime Stories for All-Night Reading

Ladies and gentlemen, and scoundrels of all ages, this is the page for the stories. 

The White Cobra: The Bite of the Cobra

Tigers walk here, where Maharajahs rode, with jackals as their grooms and serving men.  There lies the ancient, ruined city.  There lies Delwaar San.

The Jumpgates of Our Star: Part Five

"Good reflexes," Hazard thought: "just the sort Sarge appreciated when the brain behind them could keep up."

Among the Ruhig

A slender girl was silhouetted in the doorway against the early light.

The Jumpgates of Our Star: Part Four

He checked his Kruger in its holster. It felt good in his grip. 'No', he told himself. 'Not just yet. Not yet.'

The Jumpgates of Our Star: Part Three

A brilliant light threw their shadows against the far wall and vanished. The office and its contents were gone.