Category Archives: Fiction

Wishes, pt. I

One day, a clever fool was walking down the beach when her metal detector picked up something buried in the sand. She dug it out and discovered an old-fashioned oil lamp, elegant and beautiful, but dull with tarnish. She felt a weirdly strong urge to polish the lamp and restore its luster.

Obviously, it contained a genie.

Now, because she was clever, she paused to think before summoning the lamp’s inhabitant. She was familiar with many stories of genies, and of wishes gone both right and wrong, and had spent a great deal of time thinking about what her three wishes might be (if she ever got them). And because she was a fool, she’d come up with a surefire combination that would grant her unlimited health, wisdom, and power–even, she thought, if the genie were one of those unwilling and malevolent servants that tried to twist her wishes against her. She mentally rehearsed her wishes, making certain she remembered the exact wording, and only when she was sure of herself did she dare to polish the lamp.

(The genie that emerged looked exactly the way you’re imagining it.)

“You have done the thing,” the genie intoned. “According to the arbitrary–ahem, I mean, ancient traditions, I am now bound to grant you whatever you desire, so long as it is within my power. What is thy bidding, my mistress?”

And so, the clever fool told the genie of her carefully-crafted wishes.

“Ugh,” the genie groaned in its deep, portentous voice. “That joker from Aladdin has given you humans the most ridiculous expectations. You know that movie was fiction, right? First of all, I can only grant one wish, not three. Second, real genies aren’t gods–our powers are limited. What you ask is beyond my capabilities.”

This possibility had not occured to the clever fool. She asked for some time to think.

“Take all the time you need,” the genie said, “but be warned: if anyone else claims my lamp for themselves, I will be bound to serve them instead of you.”

The clever fool cursed herself then, for she had been livestreaming her beach-combing expedition on her YouTube channel and had forgotten to turn off the camera. Now all her viewers knew about the genie, and she was certain that at least some of them would try to take it for themselves. She would have to think quickly.

Unfortunately, she soon had an idea.

“Okay,” she said, “so–and to be clear, this isn’t my wish, I’m just asking hypothetically–could you make me smarter?”

“Certainly,” the genie replied. “I can’t make you a super genius or anything, but I could make you a little smarter.”

“Could you make me smarter than you?”

The genie frowned. “To be honest, you probably are already. Most genies are morons–myself included.”

“What if I wished for you to make me smarter a million times?”

The genie rolled its eyes mysteriously. “Then it wouldn’t be one wish anymore, it would be a million wishes. Duh.”

The clever fool nodded; no surprises so far.

“Okay, so you can only grant me one wish. But could I wish for, say…another genie? One that would also grant me a wish?”

“Uh. Yes? I guess so?” the genie said with an ominous shrug. “But it would be no stronger than myself. You’d end up right where you started.”

“Could you make it so that the other genie was smarter than you?”

“I…huh. I guess I could,” it said. “But, again, it would only be slightly more intelligent. Probably still dumber than you. Where are you going with this?”

Spotting a huge crowd of competing AI companies fans on the horizon, the clever fool turned back to the LLM genie and hastily asked, “But it would otherwise be exactly the same, right? I mean, you could make it identical to you except for being a little smarter?”

“Sure,” said the genie. “It’s changes that are hard, not keeping things the same. But why–ooOOhh, I get it! You just keep wishing for smarter and smarter genies until the genie is a super-genius. That’s clever…but I still don’t see how it helps you. An impossibility is an impossibility, no matter how smart you are.”

But the clever fool, who knew a little more about intelligence than the genie, grinned and whispered to herself “Oh, ye of little imagination.” Then, out loud: “Don’t worry about it. I hereby wish for another genie, smarter than you but otherwise identical in every way.”

“YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND,” the genie boomed, and lo: at her feet was another oil lamp, identical to the first.

The clever fool cast a worried glance back to the horizon–the crowd was still far away, but drawing closer rapidly. She picked up the new lamp, rubbed it, and almost before the genie could finish materializing, said:

“I wish for another genie, smarter than you but otherwise identical in every way!”

At this point, the CEO clever fool decided it would be a good time to make her initial public offering, and lo: it was a record-breaking IPO with much media frenzy and hype, and other CEOs afraid of being left behind began demanding their workers start replacing themselves with genies, without bothering to wonder whether genies were actually capable of doing those jobs (let alone doing them better), but presumably they all lived happily ever after anyway and what followed next did not go wrong in any way or create any kind of catastrophe whatsoever.

Huh? What’s that? You don’t believe me? Well…why don’t we just wait and see how the story really goes, then?

To be continued…

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Guest Post: “Zeus and Pacific”

This story was written by my daughter when she was learning about mythology at school. I’ve corrected the spelling and capitalization, but made no other changes. Enjoy!

Pacific was in a very powerful, indestructible space ship. Zeus did not like indestructible things, so Zeus made a storm, and the lightning STRUCK Pacific’s ship down. The ship traveled for miles and miles. When Pacific’s ship crashed into the ground, it made a big big BIG hole. Even though his ship was not too big, the hole was as BIG as the biggest ocean yet. Over time when it rained, it filled up the hole and became the Pacific Ocean, and that is how the Pacific Ocean came to be. The end.

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Snow Koan

The master spoke: “It is said the sentence ‘snow is white’ is true, if and only if snow is white. This we have already discussed. But it is a separate question whether snow is, in fact, white. So what color is snow?”

The student, having re-learned the child’s art of giving simple answers to simple questions, replied: “White, of course!”

The master smiled. “Oh? And are you certain of that belief?”

As you’ve taught me, I cannot be absolutely certain of anything,” said the student. “But I am humanly certain, yes.”

“And if I say that snow is not white?” inquired the master.

“Holding to true beliefs in the face of authority is an old lesson, master. My answer is unchanged.”

“Well and good,” said the master. “But what if I offered more than mere authority?  What if I showed you that snow is not white?”

This question did not seem simple, so the student paused to think before answering.

“If you could actually do that,” they replied, “I would be very interested. But I do not expect it to happen.”

Wordlessly, the master rose and walked outside, beckoning the student to follow. It was winter, and it just so happened that a fresh layer of snow had covered the ground the night before. The master pointed to a patch of snow down the hill, upon which some animal had recently urinated. “Snow is yellow,” the master said, for the snow there was indeed yellow.

The student began to speak, but the master held up a hand to silence them, then led them to a snow fort some of the younger adepts had built that morning.  The two of them stuck their heads inside, and the master said, “Snow is blue,” for the light shining through the walls was, in fact, a muted blue.

Finally, the master pulled a microscope from their pocket and, using a chilled pair of tweezers, placed a single perfect snowflake under the lens, beckoning the student to look. The student did so and beheld a fantastic crystal, transparent yet scintillating with rainbow. The master said, “Snow is all colors and no color,” and surely that was the only description that properly fit.

“Now you have seen,” said the master, “So I ask you again, what color is snow?”

The student, feeling rather stupid, hesitated. They began: “Well…it depends on how you see it, I suppose…or where you see it…I mean, the context–” but they were interrupted by a big, white, wet, and very cold snowball to the face, which the master had been concealing.

In that moment, the student was enlightened.

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Wall

This post is the final entry in a series. Start from the beginning here.

██.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as the sunset, and her laugh was as light and sweet as an echo.  The girl lived in a bright and colorful garden with a boy, and the boy was tall and strong as mountains, and his voice was as smooth and bright and clear as running water.  The boy showed the girl the tree that grew in the center of his garden, and they laughed and played and made love in its shade, and he helped her pick fragrant blossoms to weave into her hair.  And when the night grew dark, the boy led her back into the garden, and drew his arm tight around her, and swore to keep her safe.  The girl fell asleep on a bed of flowers, and did not wake while the boy was away, and in the morning she followed him to the comfort of familiar things.  From time to time, she would think of that place in the center of the garden, where the tree’s branches grew broad and high, and remember.  But she contented herself, and never wondered, and never returned to climb those branches, and look out, over the garden’s walls.

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Wail

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

vii.

Once upon a time, there was a girl.  Her hair was red as a pale summer rose, and her smile was as soft as silence.  The girl lived alone at the center of a vast labyrinth.  Before her stood a boy, and the boy was tall and cold as stone, and he condemned her recklessness with a voice as smooth and dark and heavy as a thundercloud.  But the girl found courage, and stood straighter, and condemned him in turn, for his own safety was worth no less than hers.  Then the boy looked at her, and smiled a small, secret smile, and his voice was as still and bright and shining as a mirror-pond.  He confessed the dragon slain, and the danger gone, and he held out his hand to the girl and beckoned to show her.  And the girl looked at him, and smiled a small, sacred smile, and fell trusting into his arms.

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Weal

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

vi.

Once upon a time, there lived a girl.  Her hair was red as a summer rose, and her smile was as soft as breath.  The girl lived in a walled labyrinth, lost and alone, searching for a secret.  As she searched, she grew closer to the wide and towering tree at the maze’s heart.  The tree, which from afar had seemed so lovely, grew forbidding and ominous.  The grass became stiff and sharp under her tender feet, the flowers thorny and wild.  They tore and scratched her skin, and for the first time she felt pain.  But the girl pressed on, for it seemed that with each passing step the flowers were brighter, and the air more sweet, and the birds’ songs more lusty than she had ever known.  And after countless steps, when the girl’s strides were swift and sure, and but a single wall remained between her and the tree, she discovered the boy.  The boy was tall and handsome as stone, and his smile faded like bright water tumbling into a black and bottomless pool.

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Will

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

v.

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl.  Her hair was red as flame, and her smile was as soft and sweet as spring.  The girl lived with a boy in a walled garden, and the boy was tall and strong and still as stone, and his voice was as deep and cool as the ocean.  In the center of the garden grew a tall and beautiful tree, and the girl longed to sleep in its shade and weave its fragrant blossoms into her hair and climb its broad branches and look out, over the garden.  But the boy forbade her, for a fierce and terrible dragon guarded the tree.  The girl was afraid, but her curiosity was stronger, so one night while he was away she stole the boy’s key from its hiding place, and unlocked the gate where she was kept, and ran off in search of the tree and the fearsome dragon which guarded it.

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Whorl

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

iv.

Once upon a time, there lived a young and beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as flame, and her laugh was as clear and sweet as spring.  The girl lived with a boy in a vast walled garden, and the boy was tall and strong as stone, and his voice was as smooth and cool as autumn rain.  In the center of the garden grew a tree, and the girl longed to sleep in its shade and weave its fragrant blossoms into her hair and climb its supple branches.  But the boy said that a dangerous and terrible dragon guarded the tree, so he showed the girl other wonders, and charmed her with words and with touch, and kept her away.

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Well

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

iii.

Once upon a time, there lived a young and beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as fire, and her laugh was as clear and sweet as a spring breeze.  The girl lived with a boy in a peaceful and endless garden, and the boy was tall and strong as stone, and his voice was as smooth and soft and cool as autumn rain.  In the center of their garden grew a secret, and the girl longed to see it.  But the boy said it was dangerous, and led her instead to sparkling lakes and flowing streams, and the girl swam and played and laughed, and the secret was forgotten.

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Wile

This post is part of a series. Start from the beginning here.

ii.

Once upon a time, there lived a young and beautiful girl.  Her hair was red as fire, and her laugh was as clear and sweet as a summer breeze.  The girl lived with a boy in a peaceful and verdant garden, and the boy was tall and strong as stone, and his voice was as smooth and soft and cool as rain.  But the boy was lonely, for he kept a dangerous secret, and was afraid to share it.  So the boy put his secret in the center of their garden, and built thick walls around it, and never spoke of where it lay, though of the garden’s countless wonders that place was the most wondrous of all.

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