Tag Archives: science fiction

Screw WorldCon; I wish I’d been at DefCon

So, the great and the good of science fiction and fantasy literature are all off to Montreal for this year’s WorldCon, and I’m not bitter and twisted in the slightest… after all, I can keep up to date on the gossip and action from innumerable sources, not least of which is the remarkably fully-featured ConReporter blog. Today’s Tomorrows columnist Brenda Cooper has promised us a con report on her return, too.

But as I think I’ve mentioned before, fandom really needs to up its game as far as convention badges are concerned, because the geeks and hackers at DefCon get badges that look like this:

DefCon 2009 delegate badge

C’mon, admit it: that whips the hell out of a laminated card on a lanyard. It also has hardware built into it that allows it to network with all the other cards from the same series (and plenty of other funky techno-gimcrackery, too).

And while I’d quite enjoy a long weekend of sitting around in a moderately posh hotel and nattering about (or even to) my favourite authors and critics, there’s a lot to learn at DefCon as well. Someone demonstrated an entirely mechanical hack of a supposedly unpickable electromechanical lock [via BoingBoing], and a gang of ATM skimmer-scammers unwittingly bit off way more than they could chew by planting a bogus ATM at the convention venue [via SlashDot].

Who knows – maybe someone managed to work out what the Conficker worm is actually for, and why it appears to have been abandoned to self-replicating autonomy by its creators [also via SlashDot]?

More seriously, though, I really wish I was going to Montreal for the weekend; one of the joys of fandom as a community is the sense of being part of a network of people who are passionate about the same stuff as you, but the downside is that you rarely get to see all those friends and colleagues in the flesh.

If you’re going to WorldCon, be sure to have yourself a damn good time… and raise a beer or two for me, OK?

NEW FICTION: GLASSFACE by James Trimarco

This month’s fiction offering here at Futurismic is a little darker than our last story. In “Glassface”, James Trimarco takes the theme of repressive immigration control and weaves in a story of personal redemption.

It’s moody and noir with a bitter-sweet flavour, and I like it a lot – we hope you do, too.

Glassface

by James Trimarco

The sun burns off the last of the yellow morning fog as the crane drops the shipping containers onto the pier. The pavement shudders with the deep boom of metal on asphalt, then the sound bounces off some buildings and hits us again, softer now. Then the hook lifts away and we head over for the usual routine.

Mackenzie hauls open the gate on the first container. Inside, it’s dark as a tomb.

“Okay, bionic boy,” he says. “You see anything?”

The joke hasn’t been funny for a couple months, and I let him know it.

“Uh oh!” he shoots back. “He’s cranky—better check his batteries!” When he laughs it sounds like he’s choking. I crawl into the container just to get away from it. Continue reading NEW FICTION: GLASSFACE by James Trimarco

Racism and genre fiction

This week is apparently International Blog Against Racism Week. During this year’s tumultuous RaceFail debate in the genre fiction community (and other smaller ones before it) I predominantly kept my mouth shut and tried my best to just listen; as far as middle-class white Western privilege goes, my life is pretty much a textbook case, and I’m sufficiently aware of that to know I have very little to add to the discussion that can’t be put far better by others with greater experience (not to mention stronger rhetorical chops).

But silence can seem like complicity, so this seemed like a good moment to come out and nail my colours – and Futurismic‘s, by association – to the metaphorical mast. I do my best to make Futurismic an inclusive place for everyone, regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation; I know I slip up sometimes, and I’ve been grateful to the handful of people who have politely pointed such incidents out to me (and will continue to be so in the future, I hope). My motivations for doing so will remain personal; there are those who may choose to see it as some sort of liberal guilt complex, and they might be right. Frankly, I’d rather live with that than the opposite; my insomnia’s bad enough already.

The important outcome of RaceFail for me – as for many others – was the uncomfortable but important realisation that, despite my best efforts to the contrary, I’m still racist sometimes. We tend to think of racism as an active verb, something that is by definition pursued deliberately, but that’s not necessarily the case. At very deep levels of our culture, we’re conditioned into a worldview that subconsciously reinforces the values of the past, even when we consciously embrace the ethics of the present. I guess you could say that – in what I hope and believe to be the majority of cases, at least within the genre fiction community – we’re racist by accident rather than design.

The good thing about making mistakes is that they give you an opportunity to learn and to improve yourself, if you have the will to do so. When I witnessed my first internet spat about racism in genre literature, I was rather taken aback – first and foremost because science fiction fandom had struck me as the sort of community where racism would be unlikely to occur. After all, it’s the literature of the future, of progress, right? Well, not entirely; I came to fandom quite late in my life, but I still came with a whole load of naivete. I very much suspect I still have a lot of it to lose.

But more recently I’ve come to see RaceFail and similar debates as something that actually confirms genre fiction’s progressive spirit. When I think of the other subcultures I’m closest to – particularly rock music – it becomes obvious that, by comparison, the genre community’s ability to muster enough voices against the status quo to make themselves heard is actually a very rare thing. Rock music is an intrinsically racist and sexist culture; not through deliberate choice in the majority of cases, but because it’s a reflection of its demographic’s attitudes. That peer pressure produces a powerful cultural inertia; try finding a well-trafficked rock music forum online where you can have a debate about the position of women in rock without rapidly being drowned out by posts saying whether or not the postee would consider sleeping with the woman in question. If you do know of one, please let me know about it!

Perhaps it’s because of its comparatively small size, or its long lifespan, or just the fact that it was one of the first fandom communities to really take to the multicast communication platform that is the internet… but I think the genre fiction community should be proud that we have debates like RaceFail. Sure, they can get pretty nasty; people on both sides of the fence tend to get hurt, both personally and professionally, and that’s a shame. But personally I think it’s a good thing that we can fight across that fence – because it means the fence isn’t an unclimable and impermeable wall, as it is elsewhere.

I’m not doing special pleading for fandom here; there are surely many other communities where the same conditions apply, but I can only talk with any validity about those I have experience of. RaceFail doesn’t mean that the genre community can rest on its laurels, safe in the knowledge that it’s more open to debate and dissent on matters of racial and gender privilege than other subcultures; nor does it mean it’s so riddled with entrenched prejudice as to be beyond improvement.

What it means, I guess, is that it’s full of people who care deeply about many different things, but who have a common ground in their love of fantastic stories. It is my hope that this common ground will continue to act as a meeting space where folk on both sides of the debate can discover more about each other as people, as individuals. If anything is ever going to erase racism from our culture – the culture of fandom, and the culture of the world at large – it’ll be getting to know people who are different to ourselves, and coming to realise that difference is something to be celebrated rather than feared.

It won’t happen overnight. Hell, it probably won’t happen in my lifetime, or maybe even longer than that. But I believe every assumption questioned is a step toward the future – that’s science fiction’s message, after all.

Thanks for reading.

Kim Stanley Robinson on why space is a bad idea… and a good idea

Planet EarthSpace exploration tends to be a black-and-white debate, with interested parties falling into either enthusiastic advocacy or strident denouncement. But as with most things, there’s a considerable middle-ground to explore – and over at the Washington Post, Kim Stanley Robinson brings the humanist pragmatism as he argues that space exploration is a worthy goal provided it helps us become a species that doesn’t have its finger hovering perpetually over the self-destruct button:

Eventually, if things go well on Earth, we may begin to inhabit the moons and planets of the solar system more completely, with populations living their entire lives off Earth. At this stage, Mars will always loom as the best candidate for a viable second home. If we alter that planet by importing Earth’s organisms into a rehydrated Martian landscape, that would make it safer for us to live there long-term. These big possibilities, described at length in my Mars novels, will make the planet one of the best 22nd century answers to the question, “Why space?”

And later, if things are still going well on Earth — always the necessary condition — we might live throughout our solar system. This civilization would be a great thing, as a healthy Earth would have to exist at its heart. But given all we have to do first, the full flourishing of such a civilization is surely centuries away.

So why even talk about this? Because it is useful to take the long view from time to time. This is what science fiction does, and though science fiction has been bad about space, it has been good about time. Taking that long view, we no longer seem like the most sophisticated culture ever; indeed, much that we do now will look silly or even criminal in the future. The long view also reminds us that we are a species only about 100,000 years old, evolving on a planet where the average lifetime of a species is 10 million years. Unless we blow it, humans are going to be around in 1,000 years — and if we make it that far, it’s likely that we’ll last much longer than that.

So, what actions, taken today, will help our children, and theirs, and theirs? From that perspective, decarbonizing our technology and creating a sustainable civilization emerge as the overriding goals of our age. If going into space helps achieve those goals, we should go; if going into space is premature, or falls into the category of “a good idea if Earth is healthy,” it should be put on the science fiction shelf, where I hope our descendants will be free to choose it if they want it.

What do you think? Is escaping the gravity well a means to an end in itself, or should we concentrate on tidying up our own back yard before heading out into the local neighbourhood? [via BoingBoing; image courtesy NASA]