MUSIC IN PHASE SPACE

Tag: Fiction

  • Bad Men

    “Bad men do bad things in the name of authority” James Ellroy BAM! Marilyn’s DEAD. The town’s REELING. Camelot’s a CON, and the dream machine’s bleeding out in the gutter. You want TRUTH? You want FILTH? You want the hard, fast, and lowdown LOWDOWN? Step inside, sweetheart. This is The Enchanters. Freddy Otash—ex-cop, badge-burnt, scandal-slinger,…

  • Checkpoint

    The agent crouched low in the alley, the flickering neon lights jerking like a mind caught in a seizure. Shadows danced on the walls, erratic as neurons firing in a dying brain. The Interzone hummed with the static of fractured realities, a buzz that bled through everything—glitching, fraying, as bits of half-thoughts and lost memories…

  • Block Time

    “Time is a junkie. Shoots up eternity and comes down as minutes. You’re not living in time—you’re processing it.” He sat cross-legged on a floor that never aged, scribbling with a pen that never ran out, his hand looping eternal cursive over blank sheets that devoured ink without a mark. This was Block Time—slabs of…

  • Pipeline

    “You don’t like me. Hell, you think I’m despicable. You sit in your faculty lounges and tweet from your ivory towers about ‘consultants ruining education,’ about ‘corporate greed infecting the academy,’ and you pin that target squarely on my back. But let me tell you something: You want me here. You need me here. Because…

  • My Father Ran A Prison

    The air hung heavy in the valley, as though weighed down by the burden of secrets left unsaid. Beyond the murmur of the waterfall, there was silence, save for the faint rustling of leaves, as though the earth itself conspired to remain quiet, afraid to disturb the ghosts that lingered in the minds of men.…

  • HyperRust

    The highways hum like electric rivers, flowing nowhere but into themselves. Neon crosses bleed light into the night, baptizing the lost in false salvation. Beneath the rust of the boxcar lies the ghost of gold—both gone and waiting. The jukebox preaches its gospel to a congregation of empty barstools. A dollar bill folds like a…

  • Firestarter

    Scene: Boardroom, Stratodyne Aerospace Headquarters, circa Now The conference room shimmered with chrome surfaces and LED screens, a mausoleum for billion-dollar decisions. Aloysius “Al” Riparini, CEO of Stratodyne Aerospace and occasional reader of Popular Mechanics, slouched in his ergonomic chair like a sullen Apollo.  He forward, hands steepled, his face carved in the grim expression…

  • MAGA

    Scene: Suburban Kitchen – Morning RANDY, a middle-aged man in a “Save America” t-shirt, stands proudly in his gleaming, newly remodeled kitchen, giving CARLOS, a stocky Latino man in a worn uniform, an enthusiastic handshake. Carlos holds a clipboard and offers a polite, guarded smile. RANDY (grinning, voice loud and cheerful) Carlos, my man! Good…

  • Tulsa King

    Scene: A smoky, dimly lit Oklahoma bar. Sylvester Stallone and Taylor Sheridan, cowboy hat and all, sit across from each other, kicking around ideas for Tulsa King Stallone: Alright, picture this: I’m a retired mobster, right? Everyone’s scared. I walk into a bar, bam, punches start flyin’. Next thing you know, I’m running the joint.…

  • Steve Jobs and the Inquisitor

    In the dim light of the cathedral, its sleek walls lined with glass and steel, the Church of Tech was not a place of gods but of algorithms. In the pulpit, a solemn figure stood—a high priest of silicon, cloaked not in robes, but in the sterile whites of laboratory garb. Before him, on a…