Smart paint could revolutionize structural safety of bridges, mines and more

Smart clothing could become wearable gadgets

Car folds up like origami (on purpose)

Music training has biological impact on aging

Scientists have found a way to decipher actual words from a person’s brain waves

Marijuana mouth spray for cancer patients tough to abuse

The end has arrived. These are the last two stories in the Subversion anthology, but at least they provide a fine sendoff. Both warn us about the dangers of being manipulated by extremism, and both emphasize the value of personal responsibility as the antidote for that social ill.

Timothy T. Murphy’s Received Without Content raises that warning plainly, and makes the point that disadvantaged people are most vulnerable to predation by those who capitalize on injustice instead of resisting it. Readers are also shown that suggestibility and ignorance are no excuse for carelessness. Accepting the consequences for poor judgment is an especially courageous act when the easier alternative is to blame others for dangerous leadership.

In To Sleep With Pachamama by Caleb Jordan Schulz, we’re reminded that establishing freedom in the face of extremism is a risky endeavor at the best of times and never for the fainthearted. Beyond that, standing for the rights of others is a natural maturation of individual freedom, even as it demands a certain willingness of individuals to place their hard-won independence in jeopardy. Oppressors may describe these acts as ‘returning to the scene of the crime,’ but that this messy heroism arises again and again throughout history is a testament of its value to our continuation.

Make the authors happy. Make yourself happy. Buy the book.

At first glance, the next three stories in the Subversion anthology don’t seem to have a whole lot in common. They take place in a dreary, futuristic call center, a fantastic world of dragons and their human snacks, and Hell itself. The characters are worker drones, royalty, and demons. No obvious theme besides subversion, the theme for the entire anthology, for me to develop into a clever introductory paragraph for today’s reading.

But who said the connection between them had to be obvious? A closer examination shows us that these are three very different stories about daring escapes from cruel systems that care nothing for the individuals they depend on for maintenance.

Scrapheap Angel by RJ Astruc and Deirdre M. Murphy is the baldest, cheeriest example of today’s unifying theme. I’m particularly fond of this story because, like the main characters, I spend my weekdays toiling in a corporate cubicle. Also like the characters – and probably everyone else working in similar situations – I pass a lot of time daydreaming my escape and quietly undermining oppression. Still, I doubt the contents of my cubicle will ever combine to form anything quite as amazing as a Scrapheap Angel.

CA Young’s story, The Dragon’s Bargain, contains a warning against ignorance and blind trust. Also, plans formed at the last minute often disappoint, and sometimes catastrophically. To escape a messy fate on the teeth of a hungry power, one must come prepared to the fight. Lest one’s sacrifice be for someone else’s gain…

A Tiny Grayness in the Dark by Wendy N. Wagner is a tear-jerker. Although other stories in the Subversion anthology have children as main characters, none give parents credit for much good. It’s true that some parents are simply awful or too wholesome to be healthy, but most parents sacrifice a lot of themselves for the benefit of their offspring. A Tiny Grayness in the Dark shines a light on love as both motive for and quintessential expression of subversion.

This series of reviews will end soon, but why wait for me to finish reading the book? Buy it here.

The next three stories in the Subversion anthology are all about germination; growth and change from within. Each reveals a different sort of transformation of a different type of group, but all these stories follow one person taking one step in the right direction. They show us that leaders must first revolutionize themselves before they can expect to lead a revolution.

Jean Johnson’s The Hero Industry possesses more whimsy than most of the other stories in the Subversion anthology, but it’s still a good fit. In it, our heroine makes the most of a bad situation for all involved by bluffing and press-releasing her way to the top of an emerging field. All of her success – for herself and her unlikely clients – would be impossible if she was unwilling to negotiate with chaos.

In Flicka, by Cat Rambo, life in the backwoods gets complicated when the arrival of strange neighbors inevitably spurs identity crises among the locals. One young man, exceptional in his own quiet way, wants to bridge the divide between the ‘aliens’ and their reluctant hosts, but trust takes time to build, and hatred undermines all hospitality. To make things right in his world, the gentle man must start with himself and build from there.

Seed, by Shanna Germain, is a many-layered story. Uniquely among the other Subversion stories, it first leads the reader to accept the unacceptable even before the characters must. It examines the delicate relationship between two vastly different cultures, but doesn’t shy from the double-standards within those cultures which make that cross-cultural relationship so attractive. Sometimes rules must be broken for people to embrace each other’s differences, and oftentimes those two acts amount to the same thing.

There are only a few stories left in the Subversion anthology for me to review. Buy it here, and beat me to the finish.