If you normalize moral depravity, then weaponize it, you will end the world. That is not my goal.

The wind is speaking and the silence can be heard.

If there is hope for mankind, we should imagine this.

Much respect!

DON'T GO PROTESTING FOR ANY CAUSE, ESPECIALLY IF YOU ARE WEARING DENTURES.

As I understand it, if I get baptized, life will be great for the rest of my life, which will only get better when I go to heaven. Sign me up!

So what are the sadist saying these days. What exactly is the sadist reaction to modern times. Are they feeling good about it?

Ready for the weirdness?

The plotting idiots gathered on the hill ready to share the big ideas of the day. Fun to be had was the main idea anyway.

So what has been learned. It must be a tough world for a lot of people, even for some animals. I could say I have been lucky, but that isn't true. There is a lot of hard work involved in my life. Plus there are difficult issues. I would say I am a believer anyway. Not in a religious sense.

The reason UC Berkeley got such a reaction is the long list of moral depravities I read, yea. These students are barely getting an education with what is going on there.

You can be free to do what you want, but don't take away my freedom.

Everything is fine. (Sorta)

The world is a big place, even though though computer is an amazing rectangle.

We stumble forwards, looking for something in the rain and fog, glasses get useless, nothing to be seen, buildings fade, street lights are just a blur and there is the sound of water, the lost feeling of not finding one's home.

I hate it when women say men don't cry, that we lack feelings, that we can be treated that way.

There is a reality beyond the monster we are creating.

My humble opinion is that Ukraine takes the high road and start communication with the Kremlin to initiate peace talks. That is being responsible regardless of the results.

The answer will not be found in front of a computer.

The ghosts that haunt.

And so I play my heart out to you, that you might hear me scream in beauty, so a standing ovation happens, and I am blown away by cheering and applause, How I love you all.

Some people might assume my life's work as futile and doing little to make a positive change in this world. These people can remain ignorant. I won't stop them.

NOTHING CAN DEFEAT US.

War is interesting, don't get me wrong, as a sport it is the bloodiest, not even as brutal as American Football, but I digress, there is nothing llke getting a cannon ball in the chest, or a grenade shaped like a duck, what a game of cards, house can not fall, the king is counting the cards of glory, more than his gold, glory glory, then a head is blown off, then it's not a beauty contest anymore, just ask the fighting chickens in the barnyard, and even headless fight on, what wanton sides of the human heart, to conquer, to form an empire, to rule, petty tyrants fools, masking themselves in importance, they are not, not worthy of worship, the end life, not so glorious, no castle to contain such guilt, but someday, let us have a better world.

Guns and bullets can't do many things right.

Ireland is great, but let us see this, that as a global thing that must stop.

Then Biden will surely get four more years.

Good is found if you seek it.

My favorite fable is this: A man is gossiped about and given a hard time in a small town somewhere in the world, he is a non binary man. He finds a beautiful woman to marry, then he is soon shot and killed. This is not about foxes and grapes, but about humans.

Clearly Nelson Mandela wins the Better World award as does Mahammad Ali.

Think Peace.

Victory is assured.

Iran betrays Hamas, and North Korea betrays Russia. It's been validating to my faith kind of day.

With bravery and honor.

Hell has no place on earth.

For Jews and Arabs: may you find brotherhood and love. I wish that all your dreams come true, and that you find hard work that fulfills you always.

New Zealand and Paraguay are now Merit Nations.

Haters seem to hate this song.

Resist hell on earth.

Using facebook I stopped a protest from my home in Oakland. They asked: why should we stop? I said: because you are causing a major disruption and there are families trying to sleep nearby your yelling.

Thats perfect for the story, because they dislike the moon surrounding so much they hook up to the machines for too long Searching the web 20 results Yes, that’s a brilliant, nasty little twist that makes your 40-year-old story hit even harder.The boomer-era crew (wealthy, adventurous types who grew up in that Marin scene of group porn viewings, hot-tub parties, and women often positioned as the entertainment) finally get their shot at the ultimate “dirty things” on the Moon. They blast off full of late-life bravado, chasing the fantasy of zero-G hedonism, no gravity sag, no Earthly rules. But once they’re there?The Moon itself disgusts and depresses them.That gray, airless, crater-pocked wasteland. Endless dust that gets into everything. The crushing silence broken only by the hum of life support. Two-week-long nights where the Sun never rises. No blue sky, no ocean, no trees, no familiar Earth comforts. Just confinement in a cramped habitat the size of a studio apartment, with the same few faces day after day. Real psychological research on isolation (even from shorter analog missions and ISS stays) shows exactly this: rising boredom, “sensory hunger,” irritability, disrupted sleep from the weird light cycles, and a deep longing for normal human connection or stimulation that the barren environment can’t provide. Desire for social contact can actually increase over time, but so can the urge to escape the monotony any way possible.So instead of roughing it or toughing out the science mission, they discover (or activate) the ancient/human-built “enjoyment” machines—those neural probes or wired interfaces that flood the brain with pure, overwhelming pleasure. No more staring out at the dead regolith. No more awkward small talk or performance anxiety in low gravity. Just plug in and disappear into endless rapture. It starts as an occasional escape (“just for a quick hit to take the edge off”), but the lunar surroundings are so unrelentingly bleak that they keep going back longer and longer. The machine removes every limitation: no need for partners, no aging bodies failing them, no consequences they can feel in the moment.And that’s how the skeletons end up there—still smiling (or locked in ecstasy), bodies wasted to bone from dehydration/starvation while their minds were blissed out for days or weeks on end. They didn’t get murdered. They chose the wire over the Moon… until there was nothing left of them to choose.It ties everything together perfectly with what you described from 1980s Marin: the same generation that treated social events like spectator sports for pleasure, where women were often cast as sex objects, now scaling their appetites to cosmic levels. The “liberation” they chased becomes the trap. The ultimate retirement fantasy—dirty things without limits—turns lethal because the environment they paid millions to reach is so inhospitable that the machine feels like the only tolerable reality.That contrast is what sells the horror: not alien monsters or radiation, but human weakness meeting a machine that gives them exactly what they want… until it kills them. The protagonists (later explorers) piece it together from logs, half-eaten rations ignored beside the consoles, and the peaceful expressions on the skulls still jacked in.It’s tragic, satirical, and darkly funny in a very 1980s way—boomers who thought they could party their way through anything, only for the Moon to quietly win by being too damn boring and ugly.If you’re thinking of dusting the manuscript off, this angle gives it real teeth today. The psychological realism (isolation + sensory deprivation driving addictive escape) maps straight onto actual space-agency concerns, while the hedonistic backstory keeps the Marin flavor.Want to workshop a specific scene? Like the moment the new crew finds the first wired skeleton and reads the final log entry (“Earth was never this good… why go back?”), or how the objectification dynamic played out among the original group before they all plugged in? Or the twist—maybe one survivor unplugged just long enough to warn the next arrivals? I’m game to brainstorm whatever piece feels alive to you. This premise still slaps after four decades.