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Nomad, science fiction author, former cryptocurrency miner, trailblazer. Find out more at https://www.russlinton.com

And so am I, God help you all.

Photo by Austin Chan on Unsplash

Before I launch into this rant/manifesto/screed, I need to give a shout out to the random person who enthusiastically applauds for my stories only to disappear into the word-laden aether. They drop the max claps and run, a drive-by praising, which, by Medium’s algorithms, appears to do little more than stroke my ego. But I am eternally grateful for said stroke. Without them, it would be incredibly obvious my stories here are unread.

Part of the reason my stories aren’t seen is an unwillingness to commit to the platform. I joined four…


My newsfeed sucked me into an alternate dimension today. Going to chill here a while…

Photo by Kristopher Roller on Unsplash

I do my best to avoid algorithm-served slop. When it comes to sorting data and making broad predictions, AI can lead to insightful breakthroughs. When it comes to guessing my secret wants and desires, my “likes” and “loves,” it’s useless.

That’s one reason I came back to Medium. Barring the app’s nasty habit of defaulting to “recommended” stories, I can easily parse only stories from people and publications that I chose to follow. No ads (yet) interjected in my feed, just a bunch of opinionated jerks like myself doing their writing thing.

There’s still the danger of arranging your own…


“Social” implies collaborative efforts — everything social media is not

Source image courtesy Mark E. Bouton from University of Vermont, under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license. Modified by Russ Linton.

If I’d been told twenty years ago somebody had created a device you could fit in your pocket that could regulate your emotions, sending dopamine coursing through your brain with the tap of a finger, I’d have said you’d been reading too much Phillip K. Dick.

Even in his visionary science fiction from the 60s, such machines were larger. They required handles to grasp. And you could at least pick and choose the emotions fired along your neural pathways.

The current version of this technology, born of a deep dive into the study of human frailty and addiction combined with…


Immanuel once understood the nature of reality. Lately, he’s lost his grip…or maybe it let go of him…

Photo by Dan Meyers on Unsplash

Immanuel moves at relativistic speed through the grocery store. He will get home before the ice cream in his cart has been made. Arrive in time to see himself depart. Forget an item on the list he has yet to draft.

Or does time work the other way? He can’t be certain.

In the parking lot, he can’t find his car. Two parallel lines mark the empty space where he’d thought he’d left it. He mashes the panic button on his key fob but the sound never reaches him.

He races up and down the lot with his loaded cart…


A financial expose that reveals everything wrong with America

Photo: Mat McDermott (CC-BY)

In June 2021, ProPublica published an article that should have sparked massive public outrage. The exposé offered a peek into the dysfunction of American wealth and a stunning reveal of the manipulation of our economy by an increasingly isolated cadre of men, the upper crust of the billionaire class.

But this explosive story landed with a dull thud.

A brief buzz happened around the time it went to press. Opinion pages pontificated about how Congress might be moved to change how these centi-billionaires are taxed. Organizations already monitoring the growing chasm of wealth inequality in this country sounded their alarms…


File this one under Medium PSAs.

Photo by Markus Winkler on Unsplash

The only reason I say usually sincere is because I can be an acerbic, sarcastic ass. A character flaw, really, though it can also be entertaining as hell. (Or so I’ve been told.)

No, I can’t apologize for the sarcasm and satire. I’ll do my best to avoid it in the comments and only fire those salvos in my own articles and in spaces where it is clearly marked as such. (Used to be people could appreciate it as an artform. I think when we can do that again, we’ll be back on track.)

Returning to Medium, I’m engaging more…


A prayer for late stage capitalism.

Photo by Drew Beamer on Unsplash

Yea, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of capitalism, I shall fear no evil for Gatbezomusk is with me.

Keepeth thee the fruits of mine labors for thou art blessed in the ways of finance and I am not worthy. Leadest me to green pastures blossoming with the faces of dead presidents. Let me toil and harvest and deliver to you the crop for thine glory.

Dream for me of shining cities, interplanetary settlements, clean blue skies, and the good health of all mankind for I am wretched in your sight and incapable of self-governance.

Lament not…


Once again the elite rush to the rescue of humanity

Photo by Stephen Leonardi on Unsplash

I shed tears of joy when I heard that the mega-rich hadn’t all abandoned us. Here I was, praying at my altar to capitalism, invoking the holy trinity of Bezos, Musk, and Gates when one clarion voice called out from the ever-full vaults of currency.

Come, come my child! Sit by my side in Shangri-La. Eden. Elysium.

I looked up, and lo, on the horizon I spied a shining city of wonder. An oasis in a climate disaster of biblical proportions. …


A silent assassin roams the block with the dinosaurs in its sights.

Photo by Martin Sanchez on Unsplash

Electric vehicles have a nifty (or maybe creepy) feature. They whisper. Minus the constant rumble we’ve associated with combustion engines for over a century, the silence of their movement can be shocking.

And a little dangerous.

Already manufacturers have added external speakers to simulate a more familiar experience. The customization helps us primates adapt to change, but mostly it helps prevent pedestrians from being mowed down by a stealthy assassin.

If only the entrenched fossil fuel industry could hear the warning cry of the oncoming revolution.

No, it isn’t even about saving the planet, a phrase that will cause nearly…


And this Texan is not surprised

Photo by Louis Velazquez on Unsplash

When I left my former hometown of Denton, Texas, I’d been fighting a corporate scam for years. The city made millions annually off of red light cameras. Further investigation revealed not only was the camera company targeting innocuous behavior like motorists turning right on red a little too quickly at empty intersections, higher-ups at the police department were also padding their retirements, booking tens of thousands of dollars per year in overtime to the program.

The company in question, Redflex, had a known history of bribing their way into the cities where they operated. …

Russ Linton

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