Been in a very contemplative mood lately, in part because I’ve been focusing on background work for a novel, some re-organization (although my office is currently a disaster zone) and my fascination with the Occupy movement. It’s hard to talk about Occupy without getting political, but the reason why I’m interested in what’s happening is due to my love of futurism.

When I wrote Tailfeather, which appeared in Apexology: Science Fiction & Fantasy, I used a dystopian world I had been creating for some time. Overpopulation (and population control) is a huge part of that setting. What Occupy has reminded me, however, is that even though some things may change, others stay the same. Initially, I had counted on people remaining apathetic because the “horror” of the world happens gradually, over a long period of time. Regardless of whether or not you agree with them, the Occupy movement shows that people aren’t as apathetic and listless as others might believe.

There’s been some parallels made to what’s happening now versus what happened in the 50s and 60s. Meaning: after 9/11, instead of a Red Scare steeped in Communism we had (and still have) a fear about people who are Muslim. The Civil Rights Movement has been replaced with a Gay Rights Movement. We now have a growing Women’s Rights Movement 3.0 to piggyback on the bra-burning one and the Women’s Suffrage Movement. (Looks like we’ll always have a Women’s Rights Movement. What does that say about our culture?) And, in place of war protests, we have economic or “class war” demonstrations. (Both were told to get a job…) All of which I find incredibly fascinating because history is repeating itself right before my eyes. No, I wasn’t alive in the 20s or 60s, but we have lots of documentation in the form of books, movies, etc. that we didn’t have before. Can we, as a society, learn from the past? Or do we negate what has come before and assume we’ll do it better because we’re that much smarter?

What’s compelling to me is how we deal with our fear. “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure” seems to be the strategy. In other words, we’re creating policies based on what people could do wrong versus what people are doing wrong. I also feel this is why we’re seeing more outspoken folks profess their religious beliefs, too. Innocent until proven guilty? Now it seems you’re guilt-free if you fit a certain profile.

I’m just an observer, but I wonder what the combined long-term consequences of profiling, economic downturns, and attacking education are. You don’t just give a man an injection and he’s instantly educated. The Matrix does not exist. (Or does it…) I’m of the belief that literacy is crucial for the foundation and maintenance of a healthy society — including giving people and their families the right tools to make the right decisions for their financial and medical health.

There’s a lot of misinformation out there; sometimes I think it’s hard for people to get facts nowadays which is why they turn to trusted sources. Trust is a weird concept, though, because it’s based on a feeling. So a source can be rife with inaccuracies provided it speaks on some subconscious level to either a) what people want to hear (bias) or b) told by someone the listeners respond to (another form of bias).

The challenge for me is — right now I don’t have any trusted sources. I want “the facts” but often that’s clouded under opinorting which has escalated in the past twenty years. (My word for editorial reporting.) So it takes me longer to have an opinion on something unless I am knee-jerk reacting to photos or violence. (Which is, sadly, what some outlets want to get eyeballs on the page.) Sure, the internet helps because I get international news outlets to give me a different perspective, but it’s very frustrating that our American reporters have lost their core ethics in favor of advertising dollars. For a long time, I wanted to be a reporter because they were “the seekers of truth.” It seems like our modern-day “seekers of truth” has to be a comedian like Jon Stewart to simply say with laughter what we cannot say with a straight face.

Well, now I tell stories and explore truths in my plots. Without even realizing it, Redwing’s Gambit for Bulldogs touches on some deeper issues without bogging down the story. How would you react to a cyborg? A former slave? A girl who’ll do anything to find her own identity – even if it means lying through her teeth?

I don’t have any answers to the way the real world works. Some things, like hatred of other human beings simply because they’re different in some way, confound me terribly. I guess that’s why I enjoy writing so much. Because in my stories, my worlds and characters make sense.