Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

I don’t really think of myself as belonging to a single political party.  I think they all have useful aspects, depending on the context.  I’d be all for increased regulation in pre-financial-collapse Iceland, for example, while I’d be Republican as hell if I lived in North Korea.  Right now, in the U.S., it seems like corporations have too much influence over the government (all that revolving door and lobbying industry stuff), so I lean a bit more left.  Don’t get me wrong—I think healthy competition is absolutely essential.  I’m of the opinion that it drives progress, which maximizes harmony.  But I think that stuff regarding life and health should be socialized—stuff like EMS services, health care, police…I see it as the village chipping in to help its needy members and protect them from inhumane outcomes.  (but I’m not wedded to dogma—I’m interested in innovative exceptions, like funding New York toll roads by selling a corporation the naming rights to the road, rather than gouging commuters with increasingly high fares.)  I think it’d be safe to say that no one wants a crazily strong government that lapses into a repeat of the Gulag Archipelago, and no one wants a super-weak puppet state that gives free rein to a mercenary-backed diamond industry.  I know that’s an ambiguous stance—to take things instance by instance and not dig in to either side—but even though it’s not as comfortable (because it doesn’t allow me to rattle off a stock, ideology-borne answer and forces me to think things through problem by problem), I believe it’s the most empowering, functional, and sustainable stance out there.  I’m “pro-nuance,” so to speak.  (Hops off the soapbox).

So as I walk on campus, I don’t feel one way or the other about the mobs of activists chanting about free market this or equal that.  You need both, right?  The real danger lies in extremism, because when ideals trump merit and logic, then—

“THERE HE IS!  GRAB HIS ASS!”  A horde of social justice warriors swarm over me like a rabid colony of incensed fire ants, snapping a black bag over my head, cinching it tight, and spiriting me away.  A few minutes later, they yank the bag off my head and douse me with a bucket of ice-cold water, causing me to gasp in shock. 

They’ve taken me to a small, concrete room, and bound me to a steel-frame chair.  Aside from the chair—and a single naked bulb blazing overhead—my surroundings are devoid of furniture and fixtures.

“Kent Wayne,” the lead social justice warrior intones.  “You have been sentenced to castration for the unforgivable crime of possessing an unregistered Attack Cock.”

“Da FUQ?” I sputter.  “What qualifies it as an “Attack Cock?”  It’s giant, sure, but—”

The [he/she/zim/zir/banshee-kin/I really can’t tell and don’t want to hazard a guess because that might brand me with the label of overlord oppressor] cuts me off with an impatient wave.  “Anything above 3 inches is a punishable offense.  You should have thought long and hard before you willed your body into growing an enormous, wall-widening womb-hammer, Kent.  Let this be a lesson to you—let this be a lesson to ALL of us.”

The social justice warrior reaches back draws a long, gleaming katana out from its sheath.  It slides free with a nut-withering SHIIIIING!

Fuck—FUCK!  These guys are out for blood; reasoned debate is the furthest thing from their hate-addled minds.  They just want their pound of penis.  (Yep—that’s “pound” and not “ounce.”  HEH heh heh!)

So I rip an arm free and reach into my pocket, opening my eReader to Echo and activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

Tyranno-cock (if you have one, you have a name for it.  Don’t try and act like you have no idea what I’m talking about) rips free of my pants, spreading his dick-lips wide in a flesh-quaking roar.


The social justice warriors drop to their knees and prostrate themselves in quick, jerky bows, blurting out fearful exclamations amidst a chorus of sobs and sniffles:

“We’re sorry, Tyranno-cock!”

“Please don’t hurt us!”

“We’d do anything for you—ANYTHING!”

Screw the manifestos and societal luminaries!  THAT, my friends, is how you set up an absolutist autocracy:  by getting the small-minded extremists to worship your sun-eclipsing yogurt-slinger!  Ha HA!  😀


Have you effin’ had it with people evangelizing their favorite brand of [religious/social/political] dogma?  Never fear!  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Vol.4 on Kindle here:  Vol. 4 on Kindle  Echo Omnibus here:  Echo Omnibus  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  If you wanna hear me babble on about anything and everything, and strain my FREAKIN’ BRAIN, then here’s a link to my podcast:  Strained Brains!  It is on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, and Google Play!  Please give it a listen and a five-star review!  Here’s the miscellaneous gear that I use to try and become an uber-human:  Optimization, and last but not least, my buddy Jumar Balacy has made a supercool microsite at!  Go check out his computer-based wizardry  🙂 🙂 😀

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, podcast, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!  😲💪 😜


8 thoughts on “Echo: A Dystopian Science Fiction Novel

  1. I will assume your tyranno-cock is… ‘large’ to compensate for those tiny itty-bitty arms? I’m just guessing. Because I’m sure the disproportion may have contributed to why those reptilian carnivores were so cranky…

    Liked by 1 person

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